If you’ve ever walked into a dive bar at 2:00 AM and felt like the walls were sweating grease, you’ve probably heard The Budos Band. Specifically, you've likely heard "Up From The South." It’s that track. You know the one—it starts with a drum break so crisp it feels like a slap in the face, followed immediately by a bassline that sounds like it was recorded in a basement filled with cigarette smoke and old tube amps.
The Budos Band Up From The South isn't just a song; it's a mission statement. Released back in 2005 on their self-titled debut via Daptone Records, it served as the world's introduction to the "Budos Sound." It was raw. It was unpolished. It was exactly what music needed at a time when everything else was starting to sound a bit too digital.
The Staten Island Connection
Most people hear this track and assume it sprouted from the soil of Lagos, Nigeria, in 1973. Nope. It came from Staten Island. The band was basically born out of a jam session at a place called the many-named "Budos Temple," where a group of friends decided to see what happened if you mashed together the polyrhythms of Fela Kuti with the heavy, doom-laden riffs of Black Sabbath.
Honestly, it shouldn't work. On paper, mixing West African Afrobeat with psychedelic rock and a touch of Staten Island grit sounds like a mess. But "Up From The South" proved it was a masterpiece of minimalist tension.
The track is anchored by Brian Profilio’s drumming. He isn't playing a million notes. He doesn't have to. He just hits the snare with a specific kind of violence that drives the whole thing forward. Then you’ve got the baritone sax. It rumbles. It growls. It’s the sonic equivalent of a muscle car idling at a red light.
Why Daptone Records Mattered
You can't talk about this song without mentioning the late Gabriel Roth (Bosco Mann) and the Daptone House of Soul. They recorded this stuff on analog tape. Real tape. No Pro Tools trickery. No "fixing it in the mix." If someone hit a wrong note, it stayed. That’s why "Up From The South" feels alive. It breathes. You can hear the room. You can hear the sweat.
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Most modern "retro" soul tries too hard to sound old. The Budos Band didn't try. They just were. They were part of that legendary stable that included Sharon Jones & The Dap-Kings and Charles Bradley. While those artists leaned into the soulful vocals, The Budos Band stayed instrumental, letting the horns do the singing.
Breaking Down the Groove of Up From The South
There is a specific moment in "Up From The South" where the trumpets kick in with that sharp, staccato melody. It’s infectious. It’s the kind of hook that gets stuck in your head for three days, but you don't mind because it makes you feel like you’re in a 70s heist movie.
The structure is deceptively simple:
- A killer four-bar drum intro.
- A relentless, looping bassline.
- Stabs of organ that add a layer of "spooky" to the soul.
- The brass section acting as the lead vocalist.
The song doesn't have a bridge in the traditional sense. It doesn't have a soaring chorus. It just builds. It layers. It creates a pocket and then sits in it until you’re forced to nod your head. It’s the definition of "vibe."
The Legacy of the Sound
Since 2005, the band has evolved. They’ve gotten heavier. If you listen to their later albums like V or Long in the Tooth, the rock influences are way more obvious. The guitars are fuzzier. The atmosphere is darker. But "Up From The South" remains the gold standard for their Afro-soul roots.
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It has been sampled. It has been used in countless commercials and TV shows. Why? Because it communicates "cool" instantly. It’s universal. You don't need lyrics to understand what this song is saying. It’s saying that the groove is the most important thing in the room.
Misconceptions About the Genre
People often call this "funk," but that’s not quite right. Funk is about the one. Afrobeat is about the interplay between the rhythms. The Budos Band occupies a weird middle ground. Some critics tried to label it "Ethio-jazz" because of the minor scales they use, which definitely have that Mulatu Astatke feel.
But really? It’s just Budos. They created their own category.
How to Get That Budos Feel in Your Own Listening
If you’re just discovering The Budos Band Up From The South, don't stop there. You need to hear the rest of that first album. "T.I.B.W.F." and "The Volcano" are essential listening.
Then, move to Budos Band II. You'll notice the shift. The "South" was the starting point, the baseline of their identity. Everything they’ve done since is just expanding the borders of that territory.
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It’s worth noting that the band members have various side projects too. Many of them played with the Dap-Kings or in Menahan Street Band (the guys behind the beat for Jay-Z’s "Roc Boys"). This isn't just a hobby for them; it’s a craft. They are scholars of the groove.
Actionable Steps for the Aspiring Crate Digger
If you want to truly appreciate what makes this track tick, do these three things:
- Listen on Vinyl if Possible. This music was designed for needles and grooves. The analog compression of a record makes the brass section sound like it's right in front of you. The digital versions are fine, but they lose that "warm" hair on the low end.
- Trace the Roots. Go listen to Fela Kuti's "Zombie" and then listen to "Up From The South" back-to-back. You’ll hear the DNA. Then, go listen to Black Sabbath’s "Hand of Doom." You’ll hear where the "evil" comes from.
- Check the Credits. Look at the names on the back of those Daptone records. You'll see the same group of musicians popping up everywhere. It was a true collective, a family of sound that changed the landscape of independent music in the mid-2000s.
The Budos Band Up From The South isn't a relic of the past. It’s a living piece of music that still sounds as dangerous today as it did twenty years ago. It’s proof that you don't need a million-dollar studio or a pop star's face to make something that lasts. You just need a basement, some brass, and a rhythm section that doesn't know how to quit.
The best way to experience this is to turn it up until your speakers start to rattle. Don't worry about the neighbors. They probably need a little soul in their lives anyway.