It has been quite a lot of work collecting the material for this post. In all I have spent nearly six months going through unlabelled videos, looking for what I was sure I had recorded. I was dangerously close to giving up when I found it, on a tape with varied recordings from local television (when it still existed...), hiding behind a disappointing documentary on Sunda music.
These songs are taken from a film entitled "Faja Lobbi" from Dutch cinematographer Herman van der Horst. The full film/documentary can been seen here. And I can certainly recommend it, if only for the absence of any form of commentary (and that's usually the part that irritates).
Although I had seen this film in the 1970s I was not aware that the title "faja lobi" (or "lobbi") referred to a flower, and that this flower is (or was) the national flower of Suriname, the south-american country which until 1975 was a colony of the Netherlands*. Up to this day the first thing that comes to mind with "faja lobi" is .. well .. plant-related, but not of the flowery kind. I tend to associate "faja lobi" with spicy peanut soup, - of the type that burns a hole in the lining of your stomach and which I used to eat 'con mucho gusto' (until it did...).
There is more.
For the former Dutch record company Philips also released an EP with music of Big Jones and his Kawina Band, i.e. the artist featured in the film.
The second track, "Ala pikin nèngre", is the first song in the video.
I will refrain from making superfluous remarks about the African nature or origins of this music....
* It is actually slightly more complicated. Suriname was a colony from around 1667 until 1954, when it became an independent part of the Kingdom of the Netherlands. The last ties were cut on November 25, 1975.
I have updated a few videos. First I have collected all I have of the programme "L'artiste et sa musique" featuring the (unfortunately late) queen of kamalen ngoni music Coumba Sidibé into one video:
This is really all I have of this absolutely legendary performance. But I am still hoping, of course, that one day someone will come up with more and/or in a better quality.
Secondly I have redigitised the video of Oumou Sangaré's song "Yayoroba", to which I was referring in the last post. And I have added a second song, which you will no doubt recognise as "Saya Magnin". The dancer I was referring to comes in at about 8'50...
And finally, as a bonus, I am adding a video of less than a minute of a rare version of "Djama Kaissoumou", a song which was one of Oumou's first hits and featured on the cassette which launched her into stardom. Again, it's all I have.....
This post is mostly intended to draw your attention to this remarkable video posted on YouTube by Ngoniba:
And if, like me, you can't get enough of these videos, please look around for more on Ngoniba's Youtube channel. Here is one to help you on your way.
The principle star of these videos is, of course, Mariam Bagayogo. You may remember the video I posted a few years ago. As I mentioned then, besides the singing and the balafons accompanying her I was particularly fascinated by the dancing. And, having watched Ngoniba's videos a few times, I am again fascinated by the intricate dancing in these videos.
It is no secret that dance is at the core of a lot of (if not most) music in Africa. When I first started interviewing Malian artists in the 1980s I was struck by the frequent use of the word "rythme" when they were talking about songs. It soon became clear to me that this was not accidental, but that rhythm and music are the same thing, or part of the same thing. And that rhythm also meant dance. Talking to Daouda 'Flani' Sangaré and Alou Fané, who had both been dancers with the Ballet National du Mali, I learnt that all the dances have a meaning, as does the rhythm. A dance can carry a message, like "I fancy you" or "I respect you", or can - for example - be used to underline the dancers' identity as part of a group, family, caste etcetera.
When it comes to dances there still are many misconceptions with the 'general public' in the western world. "African dances" often are seen as very exhuberant, with arms and legs flapping all over the place, and - preferably - with loud djembe drumming. Fortunately, most dances are not like this, and are actually very controlled and wonderfully subtle. I remind you of that fantastic dancer in the Oumou Sangaré video I posted earlier, or Alou Fané's delightfully understated dancing in this video.
The movements of the dances by Mariam Bagayogo also do not conform with the general idea of "african dances". Look at this video by Mariam from 1986 for example (another one from Ngoniba):
The flexing of the knees, the step: dance and music are one.
EDIT May 12, 2013: Ngoniba has sent me a link to a recent and very interesting article on Maliweb about Mariam Bagayoko. In this article she talks about her career and about her situation at the age of 70. Apparently she has taken over the care of the 17 children and 4 wives of two of her brothers who have passed away. Her message to Malian readers is that they should follow in the footsteps of their elders, i.e. respect the traditions.
The processes of the mind are a mystery. In the last few weeks, ahead of the inauguration of King Willem-Alexander (April 30, i.e. tomorrow), a calypso from the 1930s has been continuously popping up in my head. I have found myself singing it under the shower, and for no obvious reason. Tiger's "Money is king" (and the music can be heard here) was true in 1935, and unfortunately little has changed since those days.
Through a similar mysterious process my mind has always linked money with ... not a king, but a president. Perhaps it is because his name sounds like the lingala word for money (mbongo), or because of the many reports during his reign of his excessive wealth, reputedly gathered by dubious means (and with the aid of neo-colonial powers in France), but Omar Bongo's name immediately evokes images of large quantities of money. Omar Bongo, a.k.a. Albert-Bernard Bongo, died nearly four years ago, but still his name lives on in Gabon. And not only in the name of a town in the south-east of Gabon, but also because his son, Ali Bongo Ondimba, succeeded him as president. In that respect the Bongos are not unlike royalty.....
During his lifetime Bongo has done more than enough to guarantee a place in the eternal memory of his people. Particularly through music his name has been immortalised to a degree that will take centuries to be wiped out. If you think Sekou Touré left his mark on Guinean music, go to Libreville and go through the Gabonese music archives. He was undoubtedly helped by his wife (and mother of the current president of Gabon) Marie Joséphine Kama, who after divorcing him in 1986 launched a career as a professional singer under the name of Patience Dabany. I am not quite sure of the sequence of events (and any additional info is welcome..), but it appears that Omar Bongo was instrumental in launching her career by funding the creation the group Kounabeli, of which Josephine Kaba was not only the lead singer but also the choreographer.
Many videos (here or here or here) can be found of Ms. Dabany and her group and here is just one example, from 1986, to give you an idea:
Isn't that just great?
Kounabeli, which appears to have been founded mainly in honour of the Gabonese Democratic Party, the P.D.G., seems to fall in a category of musical ensembles which is virtually unknown in the West and which seems to have countless representatives in Gabon: the groupes d'animation.
These groups consist of large numbers of women dancing and singing, - and mostly in praise of Omar Bongo or of the P.D.G.. The most popular ones are accompanied by a (small) soukous-style orchestra, but I am sure there also groups with traditional accompagnement, or even a cappella.
I would like to share two examples of the music of these groups with you. And I am well aware that the music in itself does not do justice to the experience of the live performances of these groups, which must be overwhelming...
The first example is a cassette by Kounabeli. This is probably a bootleg version of an lp from the 1980s. I remember hearing the lp-version once and being very disappointed. I found I preferred the tinny sound of this cassette. Perhaps because it accentuates the female chorus. This is especially the case in "Lessimbi", and slightly less in "Anniversaire de Bongo" (I told you..).
The second is from an lp from 1985, released as an own production by the group Missema. The recipe is very similar to Kounabeli's, with plenty of hip-hip-hooray-for-good-old-Omar-B..
The sound will probably be more acceptable to the average mélomane. But, if you ask me, the massiveness of the group is slightly lost in the recording. And that's really a pity, because that is the element that makes these recordings stand out among the numerous middle-of-the-mudtrack soukous albums.
To round off this post another video, this time by a group from the Ogooué-Lolo province of Gabon. The subject of their animation is, of course, Mr. Bongo and his good deeds....
PS: I have to give it to the old dinosaur, this music is much better than that depressing King's song we are supposed to be singing tomorrow.....
In the aftermath of the death of Margaret Thatcher I have missed a documentary analysing the relation between Thatcherism and the present economic crisis. Perhaps it was broadcast and I just did not see it, or perhaps this is being prepared. Or maybe the absence of such an analysis is an indirect result of the deceased's policies. Certainly in the Netherlands the media have fallen victim to the "free-market economy". The dramatic effects of this can be observed daily. A movement towards (very) 'light entertainment for the masses' which started in the 1960s with the then new broadcasting corporation TROS was rocket-fuelled by Thatcherism. What was seen in the late 1960s and early 1970s as mindless drivel and the lowest of the low has now - through a process that can only be described as 'incestuous' - achieved the status of 'high culture'. Products of this free-market culture have been exported all over the world. And I am not only referring to Endemolproduce such as Big Brother and similar blockbusters, but also to the Tiëstos and Armin van Buurens and other - in my opinion disturbing - phenomena. Mindlessness as a major export.
The latest exponent of this trend is now almost literally forced down the throats of an entire nation. Apparently it is not enough to infect the brains of the defenseless with retarded programming mixed with and/or incorporating matching adverts, with the "King's song" (see this article in The Guardian) an element of coercion is added. We, as a nation, are expected to sing along with this sub-Eurovision (and that's as low as it gets) standard sh*t, in celebration of the new king. This may be the start of the new Middle Ages.....
Perhaps stubbornly, I am still hoping it is not too late. Although on a local level all seems lost, globally there may be sufficient individuals ready to combat the regression into cultural barbarism. By joining forces we can avoid slipping into the abyss. The motto "l'union fait la force" ("Unity makes strength") was - according to this wikipedia page - first used in these low countries in the 16th century. And that's where we will have to look.
As it happens, this unity, this joining of forces, was the main target of the policies of the late Mrs. T. and her sad & misguided successors. The vigour with which she attacked any form of grouping of workers to defend their rights against the forces of the free-market economy - and specifically the trade unions - can only be described as manic. So it stands to reason that we turn to these very unions in our attempt to turn the tide.
And that's where we arrive at the subject of this post: the orchestra of the National Union of Tanzania, the NUTA Jazz Band (see also this earlier post). A great example of strength in unity, and of the high cultural level that can be the result. A unity that is demonstrated in strong vocal harmonies, in a solid wall of horns, and in some great interaction between musicians. And although I have no information about their salaries, I am convinced they can not be labelled as 'overpaid' (like many of the exponents of the present-day 'free-market culture').
This cassette, released by FLATIM Records (see also here), was probably recorded sometime in the mid-1970s. It is a collection of brilliant and very Tanzanian songs, but there is certainly an influence of the then dominant Zairean (Congolese) music. Particularly the influence of the (by that time) Tout Puissant O.K. Jazz is more than obvious. And, as you may have noticed, this will give a band a serious advantage in my rating.
One song stands out in this respect: "Mwana Iddi". In every aspect this is a superb tribute to Franco, but especially in the execution of the sebène. After 1'40 the build-up starts, an ascent in stages which reaches its culmination after 3'19 with one of the very best Franco-esque solos I have ever heard. The band clearly has listened carefully to the grand maître, for they also have grasped the added value of the shouts (with the O.K. Jazz often by singers like Chécain and Boyibanda).
But let me stress that NUTA Jazz is nevertheless very much original, very much Tanzanian - and very much authentic NUTA Jazz.
Completely off-topic: I have had to introduce a relatively mild form of moderation on the comments. What goes on in the warped minds of those sad individuals who think I will let them get away with link-ridden and mostly ill-conceived and shoddy mails, is completely beyond my imagination, - and I have no intention of finding out either.
Anyway, the moderation may result in a (hopefully short) delay in the publication of any comment you are still very welcome to make. And it is certainly possible that I will remove this form of censorship (and I am the first to admit it) in the future.
On topic: this post is primarily intended to inform you of a new, small-scale initiative. And I hasten to add that I am personally not at all involved, and do not stand to gain a single peso or eurocent. I am a consumer like yourself* and as such open to anything new.
You may remember that post of the wonderful record by Sali Sidibé, which Michael from Switzerland allowed me to share with you. Subsequently Michael has remained in contact. In September 2011 he mentioned he was going to Mali in December.
A few months later he reported back: "I collected some 130 tapes - in a few years you will not find it anymore..... I discovered Mouye Traoré, a nice Sali Sidibe being very young...., some Koni Coumaré with Bazoumana Sissoko, some old Toumani Koné.... some really hot Fula singers - and ngoni (= hoddu) - players I wasn't aware of before, some really good stuff....
And yes, I could make some recordings - Zoumana Téréta at the sokou (violin) together with 2 ngoni-griots being one of the more interesting ones - but also Daouda Dembele with his wife....
And Moudou Tounkara, one time with the smaller ngoni (irident) and one time with the base version of it... And another ngoni player Assana Gaucko, from Segou.. Some bambara balafoni from Segou.... as I payed the musicians, I've got the rights from them, and the recordings sound quite well....
So it has been more or less a ngoni-related travel, I even could buy a used instrument....."
Two months ago another mail: "I produced the CD of a recording I did with Zoumana Téréta, Hama Sissoko and Moudou Tounkara: "Juru nani fo".
I'm selling these to friends or lovers of african/malian music, therefore in no store; maybe this will come.
The benefit goes 100% to the musicians, which have been payed already for the recording in BKO.
Therefore, if you' re interested in a CD, which is professionally pressed (and not burned), I have to ask you 25 € for it, included shipping, etc.
And, as it's for the benefit of the artists, I don't want it to be shared in the internet."
He has since sent me the CD, which indeed has a very professional look about it (and in this respect beats quite a lot of CD's from commercial sources). The quality of the recordings, made on January 20, 2012 in a private house in the Magnambougou district of Bamako, is excellent. Apparently/audibly a small audience is present during the recording and this results in some feedback (talking, commenting) and in some 'background noises' (like cell-phones ringing, cutlery falling on the floor, doors closing). The music regularly breaks off and there are small interruptions for discussions between the musicians. Personally I love these kind of 'one-take' recordings (well actually I have a general preference for one-take recordings..). But I can imagine it is not for everyone.
Star of the show is - without a doubt - Zoumana Tereta, whom you may remember from an earlier post. You may remember I described Zou as a "survivor from another era". In this "Juru nani fo" he seems very much in his natural habitat, in the living room playing for a family. At the same time it is clear that he has evolved tremendously as an artist since my recordings in 1999.
So would I recommend this CD? Certainly. But it is not for everyone.
You can obtain the CD by sending an email to Michael: kabako[at]proimago.net.
As Michael has explicitly asked not to share any of the music I would instead like to share with you a cassette (from the 1980s) by an artist who will probably never be famous outside of Mali, but he was world-famous in Mali in the 1980s and 1990s. Not only did he do quite a few cassettes on local and regional historic heroes, he also talked about topical events, like a strike by lorry drivers.
And please note the "talked about", for Daouda Dembele does not sing, he is a rapper avant la lettre, a talking djeli. But I hastily add that both descriptions don't do justice to Daouda Dembele's rare talent. For he is, like Zoumana Tereta, a voice from the past, an echo from history. A 'raconteur' as there used to be many, in the time before television, and even before radio. A master of his art, who many Malians will remember from the time when they were sitting with their friends or family, sipping hot tea and listening attentively to his stories.
I hope you have taken a look at Flemming Harrev's new site chock-full of discographies*. I am a particular fan of sites like this (e.g. Bolingo and, of course, Radio Africa), as they give me a chance to figure out what I have to look out for. And Flemming's site, unfortunately, dramatically demonstrates the many gaping holes in my collection...
Luckily there is also an other, brighter side to this. I was studying the very interesting - and new! - discography of the Ngoma label. So far only 45 and 33 rpm, so I guess I will have to continue patiently (I am lying...) waiting for a list of the 78s. Anyway, in the list of EP's I found I actually have something to contribute. And this contribution is - as far as I know - one of the most remarkable of all the EP's in the catalogue.
I can't tell you anything about the artists except their names (and even about that I am not 100% sure - see below..). And I have only the music. But this is more than enough.
Side A has two tracks by a certain Kabongo Mbokodi, and I suppose Lulua Jazz is the group accompanying him. The musical style is one you may recognise from singers like Tshala Muana, so music which certainly in the days when this record was released (and my guess would be that the recordings are either from the early 1960s or the late 1950s) would be labelled "folklore". But does the use of a bottle as a percussion instrument justify this label? And what about an accordion? Is the accordion part of Lulua folklore? If it is I may have to do some digging into this folklore!
Side A is lovely, but side B is no less than spectacular. The accordion has been replaced by flutes, and the initial impression could be that this is certainly folklore. But hark, what is this? A double bass? A sax?
Again the rhythm is very much Lulua, a fascinating and compelling rhythm with a very strong and certainly distinct character. So why are they called "flutistes Bayeke"? Aren't the Bayeke from neigbouring Katanga? And - while I am at it - are the artists called Tshibitshabo and Tumba, or is Tshibitshabo playing tumba?
You see, there is still a lot to investigate and to discover. And fortunately for us all, there is still so much wonderful and fascinating music to listen to.
EDIT March 19, 2013: Jan Duinkerken has sent me this scan of the frontside of the sleeve: .
And I have uploaded scans of photocopies of a catalogue of the Ngoma Super 45t series on the wrldsrv-website.
* I read somewhere that sites made in flash (like afrodisc.com) can't be viewed on an iPad. I can't check this as I do not possess such a device.
Even for someone with a fundamentally positive outlook on life it is getting increasingly hard to see the bright side of things. For one there is the depressing news from a country which was for centuries seen as a source, if not fountain, of culture and higher matters, that there has been not just one, but a veritable horde of mentally defective and/or brainwashed voters who have given in the outrageous bribes by a certain politician with a preference for under-age females. And in writing this down I realise how totally absurd and almost fictional the situation in Italy must be for those who have not lost their minds.
But I am sorry to have to report that things in the Netherlands are hardly any better. Three of the four major Dutch banks have had to be 'rescued' by the state, after those in control have made a total mess of it. The old set of 'old boys' responsible for the gross mismanagement are being replaced by a fresh set of 'old boys'. Instead of seizing this opportunity to put an end to the ridiculous remunerations which have become common in banking management circles, and apparently and demonstrably bear no relation whatsoever to the accountability which was the excuse to introduce these in the first place, the prime minister has defended the top salary of the replacements by pointing out that the salary is 'in line with the market'. In the meantime the tax payer is presented with the bill for this financial fiasco. The same sorry sod tax payer who has been conned by previous governments, in times when the economy - in retrospect of course - was booming, into moderate to zero pay rises, under the pretext that - and I quote - "after the sour will come the sweet". Instead of the sweet we are now being forced into accepting the bitter...
All this immoral behaviour has not led to any self-examining or even modesty. On the contrary: the vice prime minister instead has seized the moment to start pointing at the immorality of those bl**dy foreigners immigrants! He has demanded that immigrants should sign a participation contract, - the objective being that immigrants agree on the basic principles of 'our society'. I, as an embarrassed native, would never sign such a contract, unless those who are consistently and persistently demonstrating their total lack of respect for any principles do so first. The net effect of measures like this are exactly the opposite of what they should be, - at least in the words of the politician who proposed this. Instead of ending tendencies towards homophobia and repression of women within immigrant communities it will, once more, acknowledge and legitimise the already not so latent tendencies towards racism and xenophobia within (apparently) large groups of the native community.
And the weather has been crap too.
So to end this easily forgettable month I would like to share with you this third volume of the "El Sonero de Africa" series by Laba Sosseh (and the great Dexter Johnson).
While I recognise this is not the best record vinylwise, and the recordings certainly don't measure up to the modern-day 'basic principles', I just love the unpretentiousness, the imperfection, the down-to-earthness, the no hassles* fun, - which to me make and have made these records (volume 1, volume 2) into evergreens over the last twenty-five or so years.
I'm going to lie down and sing along with these tunes now....
Another (short) post in the series of countermeasures.
With this magnificent video by Fanta Damba No.2 (recorded by the RTM in 1983) one can't help but thinking: if this is number two, what is number one going to be like?
For this is a real masterpiece.
From the very first note Fanta Damba goes straight for the jugular. And although she is accompanied by only two musicians it feels like there is a huge ensemble at work. Those two musicians are of the top league of Malian accompagnateurs: on ngoni Moriba Koita* Moctar Koné (see comments - his identity has not yet been confirmed, but it seems very likely this is him) and on guitar the ubiquitous Bouba Sacko, who you may remember from the Ami Koita video I posted not too long ago.
Fanta Damba's vocal power and the ease of her singing in this song is certainly a highlight in Malian music. When I rediscovered it a few days ago, going through a pile of video cassettes, I watched the full twenty minutes with open mouth, tears streaming down my cheeks.
The song is "Duga" ("vulture"), one of the oldest songs in Malian musical tradition. And although the song is often linked to the epics surrounding Da Monzon Diarra and the Bambara empire of Ségou, there are apparently also people who claim it is a Malinke classic. I recommend reading these - varied - explanations about the lyrics and origin of this song, which can be found here.
A remarkable moment at the beginning is when Fanta is rearranging her foulard; it is the first time I have seen presenter Zoumana Yoro Traoré laugh....
*I was initially sure I heard Zoumana Yoro mentioning Moriba Koita in his introduction of this song. But if you compare this video with the one of Ami Koita, you will have to agree that this is not the same ngoni player. If you have any idea about the surname of this Moctar, please let us know.
EDIT February 28, 2013: Flemming Harrev has sent me a scan of the back of the sleeve of Fanta Damba's record SP 005 which has a photo of Moctar (or Mocktar or Mouctar) Koné: It's him in the video, don't you agree?
In case you are wondering about the fall in the frequency of the posting on this blog, I have recently purchased a new second-hand VHS recorder, and have been messing about with the digitisation of video-cassettes. I hope and intend to share the fruits of these efforts (which are in an exploratory phase right now) at a later moment.
In the meantime here is a short interludum.
With this record by Ry-Co Jazz I get the same uneasy feeling I had when I first heard the CD on the RetroAfric label (Retro10CD, 1996). In fact even slightly more so than that CD. It's not that I don't like the CD; there are quite a few rather nice songs on it. And there is the added pleasure of Gary Stewart's informative liner notes (which is a thing that is missing from a lot, if not most, Congolese albums...). It is just that there is a certain akwardness about it, which I for a long time credited to the Parisian influence. I saw a comparison with the recordings of Kabasele with the African Team, and the feeling of missed opportunities I often get when listening to those records.
But now, many years later, I suspect bad timing may have something to do with my uneasiness. This single is a good example of this. Both sides feature a cover of a song originally recorded by the O.K. Jazz. The A-side is a cover of Dele Pedro's "Tu Bois Beaucoup" (which is also on the CD, by the way), which even within the repertoire of the O.K. Jazz is not a typical song. The appeal of the song is one of a gimmicky type. Musically it is not one of the highlights of Congolese music of the early 1960s. In the version of Ry-Co Jazz the gimmick is watered-down, and the result falls absolutely short of the mark.
The B-side is a cover of Franco's 1960 classic "Liwa Ya Wech". This song has been covered by artists in several countries. I have even heard a Guinean version (and I don't mean the version by Miriam Makeba). In a way this is surprising as this is a very personal song, about the death of a personal friend of Franco. If you ask me the personal touch and even intimacy of the original is completely flattened by this version, even it is sung by Essous, an ex-member of the O.K. Jazz. Although I am not averse to organs, the one on this single does not lift me off the floor and definitely sounds very dated, very late 1960s.
All in all I don't feel all that Ry-Co after listening to these two songs....
After more than 23 years of making radio programmes I am seeking new ways to share my passion for African and Latin music. My intentions are 100% non-commercial.
If any post offends you please email me or report this in a comment.
