Concert review - Seun Kuti and Egypt 80 with Atomga

29 March 2012 (Boulder Theater, Boulder CO)

This has been my week for afrobeat and Egypt 80. I reviewed a new release of vintage Fela Kuti earlier this week and last night I got to see his son front that band. What an amazing show!

Atomga

I talked to Frank Roddy and Casey Hrdlicka from Atomga before their set. They told me their original intent was to start a Fela Kuti tribute band, but they decided to broaden their vision to a musical sound rooted in afrobeat. They've been making the rounds in Denver, but this was their first time playing at the Boulder Theater and they were excited to be sharing the stage with Egypt 80.

Afrobeat demands a fairly large band. The polyrhythmic beat needs to stand out, which calls for a drummer and at least one percussionist. Guitar and bass are also critical, along with keys if possible. But the crown of any afrobeat band is the horn section. Atomga's line up covered all of this plus a vocalist, filling the stage with eleven musicians.

They started the set with their song, Kapital, laying down the beat and letting the horns play the hook. The horn arrangement on the tag had a great Latin vibe. Once the song got underway, the guitar and horns traded off sections in a tight funk groove. When vocalist Devan Blake Jones came in, his smooth voice added a jazzy veneer. Later, Jones proved to be very versatile, shifting from soulful to more reggae style. The backing vocals looked good, but were too hard to hear. The sound engineer should have kicked them up in the mix.

The horns were very tight, showing off some well crafted arrangements. Each player had many chances to show off. While all of the horn players took some great solos, Alekzandor Palesh's trombone stood out. He had a couple of surprising leads that showed some subtlety. Guitarist Casey Hrdlicka was a little more forward than normal for afrobeat, but he had a tasteful touch that emphasized the soul/funk influences on the style.

Any concert performance needs to balance the music with a good entertaining stage presence. Atomga covered this well. They were clearly having a lot of fun and reacted to each other and the crowd. Whether it was Palesh's absorbed dance steps or Bari sax player Leah Concialdi's aura of joy, the band connected well with the audience.

Seun Kuti and Egypt 80

The crowd's excitement built in the interval between the bands. I talked to a couple of people who had seen Fela Kuti back in the '80s and several others like myself who had only heard the recordings.

I've seen tribute bands and "classic" reunion bands, but this was different, although the surface seems similar. Like a cross between the two ideas, Seun Kuti leads his father's old band, covering several of the old songs and channeling his father's performance to some extent.

But this wasn't a band trapped in amber or in decay. Instead, they had a vibrant sound, which featured numerous new songs. They also had less emphasis on free jazz than Fela had. Seun may affect some of Fela's mannerisms, but he's not playing a role. He sang. played his sax, and danced with total intensity, carried by the music.

Seun didn't come out until the second song and the difference was electric. He strode to center stage with the grace and poise of an athlete. And as the band vamped, he raised his sax to play. That's when the stage energy leaped to a new high. Seun reveled in both the attention and the ecstasy of music. Seun let the song build before breaking into a call and response with the dancing backup singers. During the main vocals of the song the two women punctuated his phrases with the repetition of their lines.

There were so many great songs, but one of Seun's newer songs, Rise, stood out. While most of the grooves were uptempo, Rise started with a cool, mellow funk groove and mournful horn lines. Here, he followed Fela's style and riffed on political/social themes while the band played: "Government does not represent people, they represent big business." While he spoke of Africa, he made the connection between there and the US. Drawing a parallel between African debt and our banking crisis, he declared it the "same shit, different style". His sly tone and cadence conjured Fela for us.

In constant motion, his dancing style was also familiar. Part spastic surrender to the polyrhythms and part storytelling mime, he embodied and channeled the songs' spirits. But while Seun held court in the center, the rest of the band were anything but passive. Just as each found a space in the groove to fit their beat, their notes, or their fill, each band member created his own performance space through dance, singing, or eye contact.

In particular, the axatse player was incredibly dynamic. He danced and lunged, all while keeping his beaded gourd in time. As he mouthed the words and gestured, he interacted in turn with the audience he could see. In the middle of a pounding rhythm and dance party joy, when he made eye contact, he created a moment of personal connection.

Aside from the pair of beautiful dancers, Egypt 80's stage management also contributed to the energy. The horn section were lined up in the house right back corner. But when they traded off leads, the soloist came down to center stage to garner full attention. So, there was a constant movement of players coming in and out. Even Seun dropped to the horn line when someone else soloed.

There are plenty of hot bands putting on great shows, but at the end of Egypt 80's 2:20 minute set, I felt grateful that I had caught this show. The music and message were moving, the grooves demanded a night of dancing, and we all formed a connection to a distant time and place as the band raise both Fela's Africa of the past and their own vibrant sound of now.

Many more photos on my Flickr.

March singles

Happy March! This month features a soulful cover, a rework of classic blues, and something new.

Birdy - Skinny Love (from Birdy)



Young newcomer Birdy is getting a lot of attention these days. Her song Just a Game is on the soundtrack for The Hunger Games, she's recently appeared on The Ellen DeGeneris Show and Conan, and she's built a strong following in the UK. Her cover of Bon Iver's Skinny Love made it to #17 on the UK Singles chart and it's easy to hear why.

Bon Iver's version features their casual indie folk treatment that conjures a front parlor jam. But Birdy strips it down and gives it a soulful intensity. I love the way she plays with the tempo. The piano slows in moments of tentative reflection, but then the whole song picks up speed to push through the emotional sections. The idiosyncratic delivery, along with her voice recall Joni Mitchell, but Birdy's home base is more soul than jazz. Skinny Love is one of several covers on Birdy's self-titled debut.

Gary Clark, Jr. - Catfish Blues (From the PBS Special, Blues At The White House)



Guitarist Gary Clark, Jr. is another hyped, young talent. Much like Birdy, his reputation is validated by his performance. I don't know if I'd go so far as to call him the savior of the blues, but he has brought a new energy to the sound. Much like Jimi Hendrix, Johnny Winter, and Stevie Ray Vaughan, Clark has an innate sense of the blues that's filtered through his own stylistic voice. He evokes the classic Muddy Waters sound without paying slavish attention to the master.

His solo here on Catfish Blues is a treat as he maintains the basic groove while getting in some squonky lead punches. I've heard a few tracks before this and I'd been impressed, but now I'm motivated to give Clark a deeper listen.

I Used To Be a Sparrow - Life is Good (from Luke)


Swedish band I Used To Be a Sparrow is an unlikely duo. Indie rocker Dick Pettersson's work with In These Woods has a dark driving sound, while Andrea Caccesse's Songs for the Sleepwalkers is more thoughtful and layered.

Their work together on Life is Good emphasizes Caccesse's earnest character in the vocals with Pettersson's musical energy. The arrangement is open and airy, with a definite Irish rock sound that comes from the ringing guitar tone. Drop by their Bandcamp page to sample Luke and see what you think. It's a fairly interesting album.

The Men - A Minor (from a Record Store Day sampler from Sacred Bones, Todo Muere, Volume 2)

Record Store Day (April 21) is an annual event designed to support locally owned record stores. Quite a few artists create special vinyl or CD offerings that are only available from participating stores and many shops also feature live performances. It's a cool idea because big name bands like Wilco and My Morning Jacket participate along with less well known bands.

The Men's extensive eight minute psychedelic jam, A Minor, is collected along with other artists from Sacred Bones Records. The meandering start recalls a mix of garage-psych and early Pink Floyd. The simple, one chord strum is decorated with resonant echoes and fill melodies. Then the Men kick in with the vocals, driving the song's acid rock intensity. Like all great head music jams, A Minor uses hypnotic repetition to hammer away the listener's ego. The transition into an early heavy metal grind is pure icing.

Commentary - Old and in the way

Photo credit: Gene Kirkland, via SlashOnline

Slash recently outed himself as the crotchety old guy of the neighborhood in an interview with Absolute Radio. Actually, he complained that, in a world of digital downloads, "music has lost its magic". With physical CDs falling in popularity, he misses the packaging, which used to contribute to the whole experience of a new purchase.

To some extent, Slash is right. Aside from the cover art, CDs can offer booklets full of lyrics or liner notes. Occasionally, the packaging itself is interesting, like the cool NES cartidge presentation for Beck's 8 Bit Variations.

Back in the day, record albums provided a larger canvas for much more intricate artwork. Anthony Phillips' Wise After the Event featured Peter Cross' amusing illustrations and people have spent hours identifying everyone on the Beatles' Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band cover.

But is all the magic gone? Björk's recent Biophilia offers a good counter argument. The album is a multimedia release with music and associated apps to accompany the songs. It may not spark a new mainstream trend, but it is a sign of a wide open universe of cool ideas that aren't tied to albums, per se.

More important than the packaging or sales model, the magic is really in the music itself. My first encounters with several bands have been hearing the music without the benefit of packaging, whether it was the first time I heard Elvis Costello on the radio or the Golden Awesome via a download.

Maybe Slash is bothered by more practical concerns. He probably doesn't like that consumers are no longer forced to buy full albums. Instead, they can select just the tracks they want. This makes recording an album's worth of songs more risky. At some level, I'm sympathetic to the old model because I am still an album oriented listener. But there are some advantages to "pick and choose" song selection.

The obvious benefit is that consumers get more power: they don't have to pay for filler songs. But it's more important that people are listening differently now. They create song lists like the old school mix tapes, but longer and easier to share. And shuffle play lets people discover interesting juxtapositions within their music collections.

Nothing stops artists from selling full albums, but they have to create the value to justify it: it might be a concept album that gains its power through the narrative flow of tracks or more fluid transitions that turn the whole album into a single musical piece where each track is a movement.

In any case, where Slash only sees what's lost, I see some interesting possibilities. Slash's pessimism hasn't forced him out of the business, though. His new solo album, Apocalyptic Love, is due out in May. In the meantime, stay off his lawn.

CD review - Fela Kuti and Egypt 80, Live in Detroit 1986 (2012)

Looking for an answer in Afro-beat exploration, Fela knows his heart

Every life sends out its ripples. But in his time, Fela Kuti raised waves that continue to rock the world. Fela is credited with creating Afro-beat by melding jazz, funk, and African elements into a potent stew. This distinctive sound still largely defines what many people understand as African popular music.

But music was more than entertainment for Fela; it was a political lever. His songs were uncompromising in confronting the corruption and oppression he saw in his own Nigeria, as well as across Africa. He asserted his belief in an Africa built from its own cultural strengths and values. The Nigerian political leadership responded to his criticism and rising popularity with force. Attacks on him and his commune were followed by trumped up charges.

Fela was released in 1986 and he participated in Amnesty International's Conspiracy of Hope tour in the US that June. After that tour, Fela continued to perform in the US, including at Detroit's Fox Theater in November 1986.

New York's Knitting Factory Records is releasing Live in Detroit, 1986 this May. This bootleg recording captures Fela's live show feel: four songs spread out over 2 hours. This long form approach gives Egypt 80 the chance to effectively set a hypnotic groove that's more a shared ritual than a simple song. Fela's stage presence shines through this recording as he talks to the audience, teaches them the call and response parts, and leads the band out into wide open spaces.

In my country, you know, things happen just like that. You go on your way, mind your business. You don't do shit, don't do nothing. Next thing, man, you're in prison, man. Just like that.

Then sometimes you want a drink of water. Open the tap. No water. Just. Like. That.
...
In my country, things happen. Just. Like. That. Not only in my country. All in Africa. Hey, when I say my country, I mean Africa.

Fela's matter of fact tone during his simple spoken intro for Just Like That belies his troubled history. The music starts with a syncopated beat and a jazz vamp. Additional parts slowly layer in and build up the complexity. The rhythms are unmistakably African, but the groove captures astrong 1970s, Miles Davis vibe. When the horns kick in with a Latin flair, it shifts the feel into a more recognizable Afro-beat sound. By the time the chanted, interlocking vocals kick in, the song has built up a deeply complex polyrhythm.

Egypt 80 adroitly drops parts in and out, allowing the jazz vamp to reassert before falling again under the waves of crossing instruments. The horn solo is another Miles touch. The band drives the tight, repetitive groove to support free floating horn solos.

Then, while the the song slips into a holding pattern, Fela sets up the crowd for their part. He teaches the call and response, explaining the words. He tosses the lines with the audience a few times, then he starts in with his lead vocals. With a rapper's sense of flow, he free styles a bit and then settles into the story of the song. The balance here is wonderful. Like a plate juggler, he moves between his solo vocals, a call and response with his own choral singers, and the call and response he taught the audience.

The song drifts ever onward but never gets boring. Even better, each of these longform tracks has its own style and sound. Confusion Break Bones leans experimental, using discordance and time differences to create a muddy, confused sound that resolves into order when Fela is ready to let it. Teacher Don't Teach Me Nonsense has a more joyous, driving tempo, with looser horn solos and Fela's hypnotic voice. Beast of No Nation uses a heavier bass line to set up a reggae style groove to underlie the Afro-beat polyrhythms to come.

This show demonstrates Fela's chosen path to rankle political feathers and challenge an audience with long, jazzed out explorations. He succeeds because his message comes through and the base groove anchors the chaos. Like his music, Fela is a man looking for an answer, all the while knowing his own heart.

As a bootleg recording, Live in Detroit, 1986 has its weaknesses. The sound quality is compromised with a strong electrical hum that stands out during the pauses. But when the music's playing, there's nothing to hear but a great man and his band.

Here's a very brief excerpt from Teacher Don't Teach Me Nonsense that focuses on the central vocal section of the song: