I finally received my vinyl of "Orchestre Poly-Rythmo De Cotonou Dahomey" re-issue from Superfly Records ... and it's amazing as always with Orchestre Poly-Rythmo...
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**1000 copies** We’re proud to
introduce the new Superfly reissue of ultra rare 70’s Nigerian
collection of some of their best 45’s, full of funky psych killers,
check ‘Wodeka Roe’ or the hit ‘Gbeti Madjro’ (though every single track
is dynamite!). As usual, beautiful quality repress with paste on covers
made in Japan, Obi and 180grs vinyl, limited to 1000 copies only!
Orchestre Poly-Rythmo are much more than a band.
They’re a window into the culture of Benin and the music associated with
the Vodoun traditions of West Africa. They’re also a reflection of the
impact funk music made throughout the region, not to mention an enduring
symbol of creative drive – having produced their early work during
times of political and economic instability, managing to access the
better-equipped EMI studio in Lagos to achieve the best sounding
recordings possible.
Benin is not exactly one of those countries from which new music is constantly being reported. One name - although the one name is such a thing - that regularly draws attention, even through reissues, is the Orchestre Poly-Rythmo de Cotonou Dahomey. Also known as Orchestre Poly Rythmo de Cotonou, Le Tout Puissant Poly Rythmo or L’International Poly-Rythmo, the musicians from Cotonou, Benin's largest city, have identified themselves as a band in around nine variations of their name. Listed under these names from 1968 onwards, their greatest period was in the 1970s, from which the single titles collected here come from. Their music mixes traditional styles of the country with jerk, the local term for soul or funk. Although one could say that this sound, whose influences include Afrobeat and Highlife, also integrates a few portions of rock into its rhythms. In a good sense, because the polyrhythm clearly dominates the groove, but the drums thrash in every now and then. It sounds a bit different from what you're used to from a Tony Allen, for example. What does not harm the music at all, the energy simply transmits itself energetically in an even more direct sense. Tout puissant!
The influence of the legendary Nigerian musician and activist
Fela Kuti is displayed gloriously with the next two Kuti generations
connecting on this joint release. Legacy + is in fact two albums, with
one each presented by father and son. Femi Kuti, Fela’s son and former
Egypt 80 band member, has been a driving force of Afrobeat and the power
of music to change the world for some years, but it’s Femi’s own son,
Made Kuti, that now steps up to present his own vision.
As Femi was preparing his album -
Stop The Hate - he invited Made, who plays bass, alto-saxophone and
percussion on his dad’s album, to release his own debut record
‘For(e)ward’ alongside his own in a joint package. It’s a smart yet
honestly touching move on his and the label’s part: and naturally pays
dividends to the listener.
Femi Kuti’s output on Stop The Hate
is relentlessly fierce and funky, and for his eleventh album there’s no
easing off the pedal. Kuti Senior delivers messages of freedom and
positivity that are as bold and defiant as they’ve ever been: central
themes of the album focus on corruption in Nigeria’s local government,
equal rights and the end of police brutality for Black people. Pure and
powerful and dispatched with experience and confidence, it’s Afrobeat+
direct from the source.
On Made’s ‘For(e)ward’ album, we’re
presented with a wealth of influences added to the Kuti Afrobeat
formula, with the talented musician also performing everything on the
record. While the hypnotic basslines, rhythms and horns inherited from
previous generations are vital ingredients, Made takes more than enough
turns to make this record his own.
He studied at the famed Trinity Laban
Conservatoire of Music and Dance (the same place his grandfather Fela
studied, back when it was known as Trinity College), while also soaking
up the riches in London’s underground scene, and the city's diverse
influences of club music, dub, hip hop, punk, jazz and other
improvisational disciplines are audible in his music. The song’s
powerful messages come from his own perspective, with the direct effects
of years of political negligence and corruption, alongside sexual
harassment of and inequality for women, brought to the fore.
The (Positive) Force is strong in the
Kuti family. Fela would no doubt be proud of what the next generations
have delivered here - one continuing to play at the top of his game, the
other emerging with promise, both still fighting for the people.
The contemporary End SARS protests across Lagos come more than four decades after Fela Kuti’s Zombie album
launched its musical uprising against the methods of the Nigerian
militia, who responded by raiding his Kalakuta compound, burning down
his studio and throwing his 77-year old mother out of a third-story
window. They come four decades after Fela married 27 women on the same
day, either for misogyny’s sake or to delegitimize the government’s
claims that he’d kidnapped his backing band and dancers, depending on
which sources you read. A life’s worth of rebellion assembles this kind
of political nuance to a man whose influence seeps through Afrobeat and
into the fabric of a country’s resistance.
Take the centrepiece of Tony Allen and Hugh Masekela’s Rejoice – a feverish, limbless hard-bop holding Fela’s legacy on the shoulders of a street parade: “Lagos never gonna be the same, never, without Fela!”
He was Afrobeat’s originator, who mystified the concept of rebellion,
combined the greatest freedom-searchers in Blue Note jazz with the
euphoria of highlife and escapist groove of American funk, and peddled
joy as an act of opposition. In parallel to Northern Soul’s takeover of
postindustrial Britain, Fela’s rebellion mobilised a world whose
resistance hit under the dense fug of igbo smoke, with a shamanic trance
and an open invitation to dance away the hardship.
In
the years since his death, Fela’s legacy has been joyfully upheld: his
son Seun still fronts Egypt 80, Knitting Factory have meticulously
reissued his solo archives and the legendary communal moments at the New
Africa Shrine, while the likes of Ginger Baker, Questlove, Brian Eno and Erykah Badu
have curated selections of his work alongside essays and political
commentaries. As the archeological dig of a lifetime’s work continues to
show the historical weight of Fela Kuti, Legacy+ adds urgency to the tradition – a double release as one, comprising Fela’s son Femi Kuti’s new album Stop The Hate and Femi’s son Made Kuti’s new album For(e)ward.
It’s an instant masterpiece in supplementing the heft of a surname. The
music isn’t Fela’s, but the feeling is the same, and the protest is
current.
Stop The Hate is the literal father album of the collection. Lead single ‘Pà Pá Pà’ is a groove-filled checklist (“I want you to listen to me well”)
and its scope is extraordinary. Femi calls for structural and social
change in government; the need for clean water, safer roads and working
electricity is demanded in the same breath as gender equality and
continued resistance against corruption. Circular grooves lock on key
lyrics: “Stop the hate” and “Stop the land grab”
sound the visceral frontlines of protest, while the organ-laden,
trumpet-heavy ‘Na Bigmanism Spoil Government’ stands with a vicious,
Fela-worthy critique of power.
Made’s contribution on For(e)ward swirls into the mental strains of resistance. The hypnotic locked groove – “free your mind and set your soul free” –
picks up from the closing track of his father’s album, but the message
after three minutes of mesmeric, sprawling future-Afrobeat holds a
demand for freedom that you won’t find on Stop The Hate.
Made plays every instrument on the album; ‘Your Enemy’ and ‘Higher
You’ll Find’ become possessive with spiralling horns, instrumentals and
brass cacophonies that conjure an internal Fantasia. As Tony Allen went on to reject lyrical content to find his loose-limbed percussive protest, For(e)ward conjures as much of a tempest with furious strums and astral horns as it does with words.
Subjects
cross between albums; Femi’s ‘Young Boy Young Girl’ is the utopia that
Made’s ‘Young Lady’ longs for, uncovering the sexual scandals at the
University of Lagos. The wide-eyed circle jams of Made’s ‘We Are Strong’
look to solve the same injustices lamented in Femi’s ‘You Can’t Fight
Corruption With Corruption’. The most striking moment in Legacy+ is Made’s monologue in ‘Different Streets’ to the somber effect of ‘Sorrow Tears and Blood’, ruminating on Fela’s message: “Grandpa
was not predicting the future… we must now understand just how scary it
is that we are facing the same problem from the ’70s, and think for
ourselves how hard we must work collectively to be free.”
On their own terms, neither body of work is starkly more enthralling than its contemporaries. Yet what makes Legacy+
such a remarkable collection is how each album brings vibrance to the
other and revitalises Fela’s archived resistance. There’s something in
the family name that feels as vital now as it did forty years ago.
The musician Manu Dibango, who has died aged 86 after being treated
for Covid-19, covered a vast spectrum of styles, from traditional
African roots music to jazz, soul, Afrobeat, reggae, gospel, French
chanson, Congolese rumba, salsa and solo piano. Most importantly,
Dibango was a founding father of funk.
In 1972 he made his mark with the hit Soul Makossa.
As soon as it was released, as the B-side of a tribute to the Cameroon
football team, there were at least five different cover versions in the
American charts. The use of the refrain “mama-say, mama-sa, ma-makossa”,
on Michael Jackson’s Wanna Be Starting Something, from his 1982 album Thriller, earned Dibango substantial compensation two decades later.
Dibango was an unmistakable figure, with shaved head, shades, a
benign grin and a deep, reverberating laugh. The instantly recognisable
tone of his music was always swinging, melodic and invigorating.
Although best known as a saxophonist, Dibango was also a consummate
keyboard and vibraphone player and a great arranger, who could get the
best from a quartet or a 28-piece orchestra.
As he once said: “What is special is that Africa
has a long historical relationship with sound, and a communion between
sound and the visual stronger than in any other culture. The sound
carries the rhythm and the movement creates the images. The way an
African moves compared with the environment is different from the
western conception.”
Emmanuel Dibango was born in Douala, in French-administered Cameroon.
His father was a high-ranking civil servant, his mother a fashion designer,
and both parents were devout Protestants who disapproved of secular
music. Manu received encouragement from the musical director of his
church choir, and surreptitiously broadened his musical perspective with
a bamboo flute and a home-made guitar. In 1944, he was in the school
choir for the state visit of General Charles de Gaulle to Cameroon.
During the second world war, West Africa provided many reluctant
recruits to the allied forces and Dibango would recall helping to cut
loose the ropes binding “volunteers” press-ganged into the French army.
One of them was an uncle of his.
In 1949 his parents sent him to France
to study and, as an incentive, promised to pay for music lessons. He
arrived on a steamer to take up his education at Saint-Calais in the
region of Sarthe. The only black child in this small country town, he
got on well with his schoolmates, who remembered him bringing the first
bananas they had ever seen. For his part, he found snow exotic and tried
to post some home in an envelope.
He was adopted by the community and settled quickly into the French
way of life, but his individuality, his cultural roots and, possibly,
memories of the “volunteers”, prevented him from accepting the complete
national identity expected by his host country. Due to his parents
having different ethnic backgrounds, he was never satisfied with an
imposed identity. He was unhappy to be classified as an African
musician, preferring to be considered as an artist, and an African.
Considered too old to take up the violin, his preferred instrument,
he studied classical piano for four years. His fellow students included Francis Bebey,
who would become a novelist and musicologist, with whom Dibango played
classical and jazz pieces, although for student dances they became a
blues band.
While he was on holiday in 1953, a friend lent him a saxophone and
Dibango took to the instrument, enrolling for two years of private
tuition. After doing the rounds of French jazz clubs, he moved to
Belgium, where his soulful style attracted the owner of the Bantou club.
Within months Dibango had been signed up by Joseph Kabasele, the
founding father of modern Congolese music, whose band, African Jazz,
spearheaded a musical revolution in Africa. In Brussels he also met his
future wife Marie-Josee (known as Coco), whom he married in 1957.
In 1959 Kabasele recorded the pan-African anthem Independence Cha Cha
Cha and invited Dibango to the Congolese capital, Léopoldville (now
Kinshasa), to work with him. They made many hit records for the Ngoma
label in the prevailing rumba style. Dibango also ran a recording band
called African Soul in which he played the organ on his own
interpretations of American music. He managed a nightclub, the Tam Tam,
but despite financial success, he and Coco experienced racism, so they
moved to Abidjan in Ivory Coast.
After a period as leader of the Ivoirian national broadcast
orchestra, Dibango realised that the creative “miracle” he thought he
was observing in Africa had turned into a mirage, and he returned to
France.
In the late 1960s and early 70s he recorded film soundtracks - including that of Ousmane Sembène’s celebrated feature, Ceddo (1976) - incidental background music and commercials, and singles for the African market.
In 1972 he joined the Congo rumba combo Ry-Co Jazz
for a tour of Algeria, along with the guitarist Jerry Malekani, who
thereafter became his permanent accompanist. Following the death of the
US tenor sax supremo King Curtis in 1974, Dibango released a tribute
single which identified the American as a major influence on his
technique. He then recorded two albums for Chris Blackwell’s Island
label, including the instrumental Big Blow (1976).
In 1982 Dibango worked on a masterful triple album, Fleurs Musicales
du Cameroun, which gathered contemporary and traditional musicians from
the various ethnic groups of Cameroon.
In the same year he toured France with the American jazz trumpeter Don Cherry,
exploring everything from soul to Malian folk music and Thelonious
Monk. Soon after, he was blowing ice-cold funk on his album Electric
Africa (1985), which featured Herbie Hancock, and the hit single Abele Dance. He collaborated with a long list of top class performers: Hugh Masekela, Fela Kuti,
Tony Allen, Fania All Stars, Ray Lema, Bill Laswell, Sly and Robbie,
Ladysmith Black Mambazo and many up and coming Cameroonians.
In 1984 he joined more than a dozen artistes on the fundraising
single Tam Tam Pour l’Ethiopie, released indignantly in response to Band
Aid, which many Africans considered condescending. Dibango’s 1994 album
Wakafrika featured King Sunny Adé, Peter Gabriel, Salif Keita, Papa Wemba and Youssou N’Dour.
In 1967 he was bandleader on Pulsations, the first black music
programme on French TV, and in the early 1990s he hosted his own
prime-time French TV show, Salut Manu. In 1998 his achievements were
celebrated by the rural community where he grew up, with the naming of a
cultural centre after him. He reciprocated by donating the saxophone he
had used on Soul Makossa.
In later years he was an ambassador for Unicef, received several
honours from African countries and in 2010 was made a Chevalier of the
Légion d’honneur. He was still working last year, on tour with Symphonic
Safari, blending jazz with classical music.
In the UK his frequent concert appearances included a 2008 Africa Day
show in Trafalgar Square, but the most satisfying for him were the
regular bookings at Ronnie Scott’s club, where he enjoyed being
recognised as a “jazz man”.
Coco died in 1995. He is survived by his daughters, Georgia and Anya and son, Michel.
Hard-driving, politically-charged, rhythmic, irresistibly-danceable
music; what else could be expected from a band that mixes influences
from Fela Kuti, Parliament/Funkadelic, Frank Zappa,
and Nile Rogers and Bernard Edwards into one exciting and uplifting
musical pot? Such expectations are high, but the London Afrobeat
Collective meets them with ease.
There have been a few personnel changes since Food Chain
(Self Produced, 2015). Percussionist Zak Cohen has left without being
replaced, Giuliano Osella is now on drums and, most noticeably, Juanita
Euka has replaced Funke Adeleke on vocals, so the band has pared down
slightly to a nine-piece line-up. Euka's voice has a lower range than
Adekele's, but it's just as powerful, with a rough edge that gives added
force to the anger to be found in many of the lyrics. Euka's vocal
power is matched by that of the instrumentalists; this is a mighty band
of musicians (and video evidence—see YouTube, below— suggests that the
band is a superb live act as well).
The London Afrobeat Collective formed in 2009, so this release celebrates its tenth anniversary. Following the pattern of Food Chain, Humans
combines politically forthright, socially aware, lyrics with powerful
wall-of-sound music. All of the songs are credited as whole-band
compositions and, for the most part, focus on ensemble
performances—highlighted particularly on "Prime Resources," "Stop
Talking" and "Tolembi" where the horns fly in unison above the punchy
rhythm section. There are some strong solos, too. Taken together, this
three-pronged attack of voice, ensemble and solos makes Humans one of the best of 2019's releases.
This album goes to show the importance of context when listening to music. London Afrobeat Collective’s
self-released third album ‘Humans’, embodies their live performances.
The project is treated as a set list rather than an album, and that’s
worth bearing in mind when listening to it.
Having been lucky enough to see them support Femi Kuti last
year, the positives and negatives here are also the same as they were
that night too: a tremendously upbeat album that will get you moving,
but at the same time can be difficult to listen in one go, with little
variety from song to song (save for Tokomona).
As a general rule, Afrobeat - a genre made famous by the legendary Fela Kuti -
is a mix of jazz, funk and rock, with simple, repeatable lyrics and
platitudes punctuating the instrumentation. This is a genre with a
strong identity, often relying on powerful an almost God-like figure at
the centre, controlling the band and audience through their lyricism and
presence. Fela was well-known for this and even founded his own small
pseudo-state through his charisma and sheer force of will.
London Afrobeat Collective have taken this identity, and rather than
trying to change it too much have simply added to it embodying the
strength of their own singer: Juanita Euka, putting female empowerment
front and centre in the album (something that arguably was not Fela
Kuti’s primary concern).
From the very first note of the album it’s clear what it’s geared
towards: dancing and chanting back and forth with Juanita Euka more than
ably assisted by the tremendous band. However, to really hear and
appreciate the nuance of its parts, the project needs to be heard
through a decent sound system – there is so much in the production that
through small speakers, or even through decent headphones, too much of
the magic will be missed.
There are some stand out songs: ‘Tolembi [We Speak]’, ‘Tokomona’,
‘Stop Talking’ and especially ‘Walk Alone’ make the album. However -
much like their live set - each song melds into the other so much so
tthat it’s possible to dip in and out of the project at any point and
not quite know which track is playing.
In places the pieces can be slightly laboured too, with rambling
sections that could easily be cut to bring song running times down.
Live, this works - giving time for people to dance and become a real
part of the music, building atmosphere in the room - but on an album it
can feel a little self-indulgent.
Overall, though, this is a positive project. Some great musicianship
with the horns particularly stand out from the mix. As the name of the
band hints, it’s a homage to Afrobeat rather than progressing the genre -
but this should never get in the way of having a good dance.
Funky afro-beat big band The Brighton Beat added a vocalist to the mix in 2017. With Ryan Nava
holding the mike (and adding extra percussion too) the band has
broadened their sound even further. Case in point: the new album Live at the Clayton Opera House.
They have enjoyed a warm welcome over the years at that venue in
Clayton, NY and the show on October 20th, 2017 was no exception. Ever
thought that the fierce Genghis Khan could be subjected to a free-flowing sax solo? Or that a Fortune Teller could be divided into chopped guitar notes seasoned with trumpet blasts?
The Brighton Beat is well-oiled live phenomenon and thankfully they
are in the habit of releasing in concert albums on a regular basis.
Their sense of rhythm comes to fore again in a spicy mix of jazz and
funk. A party band that can please music geeks and revellers is pretty
rare.
London has long been a hotbed for experimentation for music from West
Africa, and it’s into this global-local story that we can situate
London’s newest afrobeat innovators: KOKOROKO. In the 40’s World War Two
veteran Ambrose Campbell and his West African Rhythm Brothers, were
enticing Soho music lovers with sweet palm wine sounds. The following
decade, a young Fela Kuti (and his Koola Lobitos outfit with drummer
Tony Allen), would jam with Campbell, and the seeds for his global
Afrobeat revolution were sown.
The band’s name is an Orobo – a Nigerian tribe and language – word
meaning ‘be strong’. Sonically living up to their name, KOKOROKO are an
all star band featuring leading lights from the London jazz community.
Powered by seismic horn section (Maurice Grey, saxophonist Cassie
Kinoshi, trombonist Richie Seivewright), guitar (Oscar Jerome), keys
(Yohan Kebede), drums (Ayo Salawu) and percussion (Onome Edgeworth);
Kokoroko are on a mission to fashion new languages using the medium of
afrobeat.
“This is not idle music!” says Sheila Maurice-Grey, reflecting on the
rich history of sounds that have inspired the band. Whether it's the
social commentary, the political stance of acts
like the Black President, or the high power energy of afrobeat nights:
the music is teeming with a potent energy the band want to propel
forwards, London style. Make no mistake, this is not a band interested
in performative tributes or pastiche. For Maurice Grey, part of the
drive behind their creative impulse to is ask: “what does this music
sound like for my generation?”
“We love this music and want other people to love it the way we do”,
shared Edgeworth. Aside of the primacy of love for the music, a subtext
of the bands creation was a sense of alienation at London’s thinning
pool of afrobeat and highlife nights – particularly of black listeners
and players. “We don’t want this music to die”, he added.
Rather than launching straight into writing their own music, since the
band’s formation in 2014, they immersed themselves in the sounds of Pat
Thomas, Ebo Taylor and others by playing covers to sell out crowds. “I
remember speaking with Dele Sosimi about the structure of Fela’s songs –
every element plays a part. But, before melody or harmony, there’s
rhythm. The rhythmic aspect of the solos from that era is amazing. The
West African approach to jazz and improvisation is hip!”, offered
Maurice-Grey.
In writing their own music, Edgeworth emphasised how much the KOKOROKO
sound is shaped by the capital. “We didn’t want it to sound too clean –
that doesn’t really fit into the London sound”, he said. Instead, the
band opt for grooves with added grit: “we wanted it to sound rough, like
going out and hearing music pushed through speakers or the energy of
people dancing at afrobeat parties: its music we’ve seen work on
dancefloors”.
Drawing as much from nightlife, the musical influences of West African
Pentecostal churches, jazz and Western classical, its both in the middle
of and beyond this mix of influences that KOKOROKO’s self titled EP
takes shape.
Adwa opens deep-ridge grooves. Drawing from the syncopated funk of
Ethio-jazz, it takes its name from the Ethiopian city of the same name.
Composed by keyboardist Yohan Kebede, the victorious spirit of the track
is a meditation not only on the infamous Battle of Adwa, but of the way
societies evolve in the aftermath of conflict.
Ti-de is a soft lullaby taking its cue from a medley of old West African
folk melodies. A meditation on remaining present through change, the
track is laced with opiating guitar lines, soft percussion and languid
vocals that feel at times interchangeable with the grand sway of the
horn section.
The jubilant Uman arrives as a “celebration of women, black women in
particular,” shares Maurice Grey. “I wrote the tune with my mother in
mind”. The track tackles the cultural trope of the ‘black superwoman’
and – similarly to Maurice-Grey’s visual artwork – asks questions about
why misrepresentations about black women exist. Ultimately, it's a
redemptive track that makes space for both the unique struggles black
women face, and their vulnerability.
Like Ti-de, Absuey Junction takes its lead from Ebo Taylor’s horn led approach, and
showcases the band’s deft hand with palm wine infused ballads. The hit
single, first featured on the We Out Here compilation, reached 18
million + views on YouTube. Based on a composition by guitarist Oscar
Jerome, the track captures the sunset hum of Gambia’s nocturnal
soundscapes, winding horn solos and haunting vocals.
A precursor to their album, “it’s an honest capture” of the band’s progression and a stunning introduction to their sound.
If you ask an Afrobeat fan to name their favourite bands—excluding lineups led by Fela Kuti during his lifetime—the probability is that their top five choices will include Seun Kuti's Egypt 80 and Femi Kuti's Positive Force, both based in Lagos, along with Dele Sosimi 's
Afrobeat Orchestra, based in London. Other credible outfits have
emerged, but none which has so far seriously challenged that tripartite
ascendancy. London trumpeter Sheila Maurice-Grey's Kokoroko
is an outfit to watch, however, combining, as it does, a firm grip on
the post-Afrika 70 tradition with some striking new directions.
Kokoroko debuted on record as part of the Brownswood label's 2018 compilation We Out Here, a showcase for emerging young London jazz artists which was recorded under the light-touch supervision of reed player Shabaka Hutchings, feted for his own work with Sons of Kemet, Shabaka & the Ancestors and The Comet Is Coming. Kokoroko has now released its first disc (and download), a 4-track EP which clocks in just shy of 25 minutes.
Kokoroko is a horn-led mainly-instrumental album. It is also an
ensemble work, but one which includes space for uniformly compelling
solos from Maurice-Grey, saxophonist Cassie Kinoshi, trombonist Richie Seivwright and guitarist Oscar Jerome. A deep-strata rhythm section is anchored by bass guitarist Mutale Chashi .
Kokoroko turns out tough, classic Afrobeat grooves on the up-tempo
"Adwa" and "Uman" and also reveals a sensitive touch with ballads from
beyond the standard Afrobeat paradigm. Closing track "Abusey Junction"
is particularly lovely and at just over seven minutes it is the longest
track (it was also the closer on We Out Here). The tune was
written by Jerome, who confirms his position as an important voice on
the new London scene, as previously announced on his self-released EP Where Are Your Branches? in 2018. On "Adwa," Jerome turns in a gritty solo at times reminiscent of early period James Blood Ulmer,
while on the ballads he evokes a glistening melodicism in the same
league as that of two benchmark West African guitarists, Kante Manfila,
the Guinean electric guitarist who was Salif Keita's collaborator in Les Ambassadeurs, and Koo Nimo, the Ghanaian palm-wine master.
Kinoshi, who recently released the luminous Driftglass
(Jazz re-freshed, 2019), the debut album by her SEED Ensemble, is
another top-rank young talent and she blows a coruscating solo on
"Adwa." Seivwright, who has played with Maurice-Grey and Kinoshi in the
Nérija collective, is less widely known but welcome both in her own
right and also for her instrument—the trombone is rarely heard in
Afrobeat, but it fits in snugly here, both as part of the horn section
and also as a solo instrument. As leader, Maurice-Grey modestly refrains
from hogging the solos, but she turns in blinders on "Uman" and "Abusey
Junction," the first full of fire, the second shimmeringly beautiful.
From every angle, Kokoroko is a hugely impressive debut.
When your band name translates as “Be Strong”, you’ve got no choice but to come out swinging, and that is exactly what KOKOROKO have done with their debut self-titled EP.
KOKOROKO’s name is taken from Orobo, a Nigerian tribe and language. With roots in Africa and London, KOKOROKO’s
sound is a cosmic blend of tradition and inner-city sunlight. Drawing
inspiration from afrobeat, jazz, African folk and more, this band of
kindred spirits share their perspective on modern-day living, the only
way they know how – with infectious riffs and water-tight rhythms.
“Adwa”
explodes into action with warm organ notes, which could quite easily
build into a contemporary house banger; but that isn’t KOKOROKO’s style.
The skipping percussive hits set your pulse racing as the horns join
the party, making their presence known as the track begins to ascend.
“Adwa” dodges and weaves around the core riffs with a mid-section
powered by a dusty, unpredictable guitar solo. Not to be outdone, as the
guitar fades a burst of brass attacks your senses, leaving no rest for
your already shuffling feet.
For the weary dancers a respite is
waiting in the form of “Ti-de” – a wandering, swaying African waltz,
during which, each member is allowed the space to flex their musical
muscle throughout the six minutes of reflective soul. Little hints of
flair and finesse fill the gaps between the song’s main motifs, as the
band refrain from hitting full throttle. They want the listener to stay
connected to this moment with no distractions.
“Uman” is a
“celebration of women, black women in particular” according to Maurice
Grey, the collective’s composer and trumpeter. The initial notes sound
almost mournful, highlighting the struggles that have occurred
throughout history, and sadly that still arise today. As the notes fade,
the mood is shifted to become more empowering, a knowing laugh in the
face of adversity. This is a celebration of womanhood and black culture,
not a song of sympathy.
The EP closes with the glistening “Abusey
Junction”, KOKOROKO’s nocturnal, introspective lullaby. Built upon a
composition from guitarist Oscar Jerome,
this is a song that is held close to the hearts of all that who hear
it, and will no doubt continue to bowl over thousands of new listeners
with it’s calming, meditive groove.
