Originally published by dummymag.com
On August 12th 1997, in his birthplace of Lagos, Nigeria, the funeral of Fela Kuti took place. One million people attended.
If anything can express the immense adoration of Nigerian people for
the most famous African musician of the modern age, it is that one
million of his fellow countrymen came to pay their respects. Some even
danced around his open grave as live music sounded across the crowds,
spurring them on to express their love for him and his work in a way
that Fela would surely have seen fit. Multi-instrumentalist, Afrobeat
pioneer, social and political activist, human rights advocate, serial
womaniser,
AIDS victim, sonic revolutionary;
many descriptions have been attributed to the man who captivated
millions across the world with his outspoken beliefs and oft-criticised
personal life, but the legacy that endures most vividly is that of the
radical, awe-inspiring music that continues to influence a myriad of
artists worldwide.
Now, to celebrate his life and legacy, the complete works of Fela
Kuti have been re-packaged and re-released by Manhattan-based Knitting
Factory Records/Kalakuta Sunrise, after the former was granted the
license from the Fela Anikulapo Kuti Estate for the global re-release of
his catalogue. Totalling an incredible fifty albums’ worth of music,
the joint label venture have scheduled an ambitious three-batch
re-launch between March and September of this year, which kicked off
this month with ‘The Best of The Black President 2’, a double CD of 12
tracks ranging chronologically from Fela’s political awakening in the
late 1970s after visits to the
USA and Ghana (
Everything Scatter,
Sorrow Tears and Blood) to the early 1990s and his ode to Thomas Sankara after his assassination (
Underground System Part 2).
Each track from ‘The Best of The Black President 2’ and onwards will
have detailed written commentary from noted Afrobeat historian Chris
May, as well as specially commissioned artwork and photography.
To celebrate the release of ‘The Best of The Black President 2’, and
in anticipation of the release of Kuti’s entire recorded catalogue, we
asked musicians, DJs and taste-makers who love Kuti to tell us just what
it is about the man that so inspires and informs them. From the first
time they heard his music, the anxious, decade-long efforts to collect
it and the way his sound shapes the mindset and tastes of producers
across a wide variety of musical genres and disciplines, hearing these
testimonies of love and loss speak to the enduring impact of Fela Kuti’s
music, and serves as an apt prelude to the re-release of his work.
Here’s to you, Fela.
Auntie Flo
I’m writing this in the aftermath of our final Highlife night at the
Sub Club in Glasgow as part of a residency that has taken place over
the past 18 months. The night was given the theme of ‘It Began In
Africa’, a commonly used phrase that refers to the birth of rhythm in
music coming from pre-historical Africa. For me, however, ‘It’ really
began with Fela. Fela Kuti (in a similar vein as Bob Marley) embodied a
nation, created a voice for his countrymen, gave birth to a whole new
musical genre in Afrobeat and continues to posthumously bring fresh eyes
and ears to Nigeria and the African continent in general.
I’ve read books, seen documentaries and watched the musical over the
last few years which tell Fela’s life story, and for those not familiar
with it I would recommend that they’re your first port of call.
Following the music, of course. Music-wise, there is a ton of it!
Seemingly never ending, the originals are either almost impossible to
find or in terrible condition, so it’s fantastic that re-issues are now
being put out.
A couple of years ago, I was given the opportunity of warming up for
Fela’s son Femi Kuti and his live band in the Arches in Glasgow. The
concert gave me a glimpse into what it must have been like to witness
Fela playing one of his all night sessions at the Shrine in Nigeria. He
and his band would play live all night, for hours and hours on end. Like
most music being made for a specific context Fela’s music was made for
this setting, creating tracks that could seemingly perpetuate endlessly
without getting boring. When Femi played the lasted for over three
hours, but similarly could have lasted forever. For me this was a new
experience when listening to a band as I, like I’m sure many people,
have that moment an hour or so into any band’s performance where legs
start getting tired and no matter how good it is, you start to think
you’ve got your money’s worth.
This gig, although very much a band performance, felt much more like a
club night with a DJ playing records. Except it was all live! In this
sense I believe that Fela Kuti was one of the world’s first DJs; being
able to build up long sets over the course of a whole night, whipping
the crowd into a frenzy in doing so, in the same vein to any Panorama
Bar DJ. Much is made of Fela the political freedom fighter, the
womaniser, the musical pioneer, the dope smoker, but Fela the DJ is
something that resonates for me as much as any of the above.
Ghostpoet
Fela made me understand that talking about everyday life through
music wasn’t a crime, but a necessity. He taught me that being true to
yourself is worth more then any riches, fame or status. Fela was making
music in a time where civil unrest, fear and oppression were rife – a
time way before the internet, social media and streaming – but his words
burned bright like a beacon for all to see. He sold and created nothing
but the truth as he saw it, conjuring up compositions that the average
man or woman on the street could understand, appreciate and take to
their hearts.
The lessons I’ve learned from him as a person and through playing his
music for many a year have subconciously soaked deep into my brain.
Maybe it was some sort of subliminal message in the talking drums or
call and response of the brass? Who knows… The sense of mystery and
drama has always sat well with me, and that rough and ready essence is a
feeling I can never quite stray far from in my own work.
To choose one favourite Fela track is a task in itself but if I had to choose just one, I would say
Water No Get Enemy.
That brass intro causes goosebumps everytime, that guitar groove and
the hypnotic bass always get the hips moving and only Fela Kuti could
compose a song about something as supposedly simple as water and create a
piece of Afrobeat history.
Jesse Hackett
Confusion Break Bones was first played to me by my close friend and Pipe Down
NTS Radio show partner
Otis Marchbank. It’s a track from one of the last records Fela
recorded in 1992, and marks a departure from some of his more well known
Afrobeat classics.
Harmonically, it seems to have a menacing atonality and impending
doom in its resonance. Sounding almost more like a Sun Ra track, its
fugue-like, contrapuntal, syncopated organ parts have an off-kilter,
sloping feel. I’m always strangely attracted to songs that have a kind
of ‘wrong’ or ‘accidental’ energy to them; as if the musicians – their
tuning and timing – were all a bit off-colour during the studio session.
I think this track really epitomises that aesthetic. It has a
bizarre, non-musically-correct sound that makes your average,
pitch-perfect muzo wince in discomfort. It’s a dark track that grooves
hard and rattles like a meat grinder on a cold lonely mission into sonic
oblivion.
For all those who want to search beyond the tributaries of
Water No Got Enemy or
Zombie, check this strange little gem, its a twisted beauty!
JD Twitch
Fela Anikulapo Kuti.
Fela Ransome Kuti.
Africa 70.
Egypt 80.
Koola Lobitos.
Nigeria ’70.
Kalakutta Republik.
Who the hell is this guy?
I first heard of Fela Kuti when I was around thirteen years old. There was some very odd news piece in the
NME
about him visiting London and doing some crazy PR voodoo stunt that
involved resurrecting a supposedly dead band member. Google sadly fails
to bring anything up about this for me now, but I know I didn’t imagine
it. Whatever, I was intrigued. As time went on I’d sporadically read
more little snippets about him here and there, but there was absolutely
no way for me to hear what his music sounded like. Bands I loved like 23 Skidoo would site him as a huge influence, which only made me more desperate to hear him.
Over the next decade or so I must have visited more than fifty record
shops around the UK but I never once saw a copy of one of his records –
nor did I ever meet anyone who had heard him. Those seem like
prehistoric times compared with today; where with a couple of clicks I
could have his entire back catalogue at my disposal. But, in hindsight,
that almost 15 year wait was most definitely worth it. Perhaps it made
me appreciate his music all the more when I finally heard it.
In 1997 the Barclay label in France released two six-album box sets
of classic Fela albums. This in itself presented a dilemma. In 1997 I
was dirt poor, and coming up with £70 for one of these boxes was quite a
financial challenge. I managed to come up with the dough for one of the
sets and proceeded to gorge myself on Afrobeat. What a revelation this
music was! It was loose, vivid, rough around the edges, vital,
life-affirming, joyous, powerful, political, endlessly hyper-kinetic.
Those horns! The drums! The call and response vocals! The build up! That
artwork! And of course, The Man. Fela!
His music was all I’d dreamed it would be and way, way more. A week
later I sold some records so I could afford to buy the second box, and
shortly after we started our Optimo nights. Optimo was initially very
Fela heavy but sadly it seemed Glasgow audiences weren’t really ready
for fifteen minute Afrobeat masterpieces and even now, in these
Fela-literate times, it’s hard to pack a Glaswegian dance floor with raw
unadulterated Fela unless it has been doctored and edited – and there
are now endless unofficial Fela edits and remixes too. I now probably
have almost every record he ever made, and I dream about one day doing
an entire night devoted to his music. In the meantime, his music has led
to me discovering all sorts of music from across Africa. Fela Kuti was
the gateway drug to endless hours of pure musical joy for me.
Gilles Peterson
Ever since I first heard
Roforofo Fight by Fela Kuti being played by DJ Paul Murphy in
JAFFAS
club on Tottenham Court Road in the autumn of 1984 I was enthralled by
the depth and funk of this new music. As a DJ I’ve probably spun more
Fela than most other music during the past 30 years… his music is
timeless and never feels out of touch. It’s simply raw and rhythmic and
dirty…no one can deny its power.
I’ve chosen
Sorrow Tears and Blood as my Fela choice as
this new elongated version has just appeared on a brand new Fela
collection, ‘The Best of The Black President 2’… you can play this as
warm up, wrap up or at peak time… Afrobeat perfection!
A "THANK YOU" for this article goes to ...
dummymag.com