Colloque

I returned from the symposium - or 'colloque' - in Bamako last weekend, but still haven't been able to digest all the impressions and information from this highly compressed (only one week) but absolutely fascinating meeting. The highlights of this inspiring gathering were too many to deal with in one post, so I intend to dedicate several posts to these.

I am planning to post images of a brilliant concert by the legendary orchestra Super Biton, led by Mama Sissoko, who demonstrated he must be counted as one of the most outstanding guitarists in West-African music.

Then there will be a post dedicated to the fantastic research done by Vincent Kenis (who unfortunately was unable to attend the colloque), Césarine Sinatu Bolya and a young Congolese whose name I forgot to write down. They interviewed 'survivors' (musicians and mélomanes) from the golden era of Congolese music, i.e. the 1950s and early 1960s. This includes Paul Mwanga (photo right), who, contrary to what I wrote in my post about the song "Mokolo Nakokufa", is clearly not dead, - or at least was still very much alive at the time of the interview some five years ago.

More mysteries were resolved (and others added...). I was able to retrieve the titles of some unreleased Super Biton tracks, which I also hope to share with you in the near future. I found out more about the Malian lamellophone about which I reported a short while ago.

Other highlights of the colloque included a performance in the restaurant of the Institut Français by a group of azmaris from Ethiopia, which led to a remarkable encouter between a masengo and a sokou (photo right)... I intend to post a few videos of this encounter.

Then there were two very short but delightful performances by John Collins, the eminent expert on highlife music in general (and Ghanian music in particular). Unfortunately on Thursday John received news that his house in Accra had been hit by the floods which destroyed parts of the city. It seems likely (but I have had no confirmation of this) that his music archive has been damaged.... I will keep you informed.
We had some interesting discussions about the influence of the Kru sailors on the musics of west and central africa. No doubt this will lead to another post...

The presentations during the colloque gave plenty of food for thought. I was particularly interested in Lucy Duran's presentation about the phenomenon of the "sumu" (soirée), and the domination of female singers in the Malian music scene (in Mali, that is...). I will certainly come back to this, - and probably soon.
Others. like Ariel de Bigault and Uchenna Ikonne (of the Comb and Razor blog), surprised me with presentations packed with information on subjects about which I know little or nothing.

I could go on about the meeting with experts like Francis Falceto (of the brilliant Ethiopiques series), Wolfgang Bender (the author of - amongst others - the classic "Sweet Mother, Modern African Music", who in his presentation spoke about a subject which is very close to my heart: the archiving and preservation of African musics) and Gérald Arnaud (a francophone expert on yoruba music). I am sure I will dedicate posts to subjects about which they talked.

As I wrote, the programme was very compact. I would have loved to have talked more with South African lawyer, radio presenter and researcher Richard Haslop, who in his excellent presentation on South African music not only came up with some intriguing musical examples, but also appeared to have a fine nose (or ear) for good music in general.
The same goes for prolific writer (he will be finishing books about Malian and Burkinabe music very shortly, and has just published "Afro Pop, L'Âge D'Or Des Grands Orchestres Africains") and almost manic record (vinyl) collector Florent Mazzoleni, who I assume was mainly responsible, or at least instrumental, for my invitation to the colloque, and whom I certainly expect to meet more often (assuming he will be in Europe long enough).

And, of course, it was a great pleasure to meet 'my brother from the other end of the world': Graeme Counsel. We were fortunate enough to - again (after our visit to the first new-style Semaine Nationale in 2001) - share some memorable experiences in Bamako, one of which was the 'excursion' to a performance by one of the new style Apollo groups, Les Frères Dembélé, fronted by a very convincing female singer with a voice somewhere between Tata Bambo and Coumba Sidibé (photo left). This excursion too will be the subject of a post.

I am sure you have understood by now that it was a great meeting. I met many others, who I will mention in future posts. But special thanks must go to Lucien Roux (photo right), the 'directeur adjoint' of the Institut Français, who together with his very friendly staff not only organised the meeting but also proved to be a very pleasant and warm host.

More soon......


I had planned to post this video before leaving for Bamako, but just didn't have the time. It seemed a suitable way to get into the mood for a trip to Bamako. The video is by that almost archetypal Malian musician, 'Tasidoni' Karamoko Keita. This video from 1986 is not of the same exceptional image quality as the one I posted earlier, but is in my opinion musically more exiting. The title, "Randevou Ma Gne", seems to be a misspelling of "Rendezvous magnin" (magnin = bad).

Why worry?

I know I shouldn't, but I can get very worked up about stupid adverts. Unfortunately for me, there is an ever expanding range of those, and the level of stupidity has gone down to way below what until not very long ago was considered absolute zero. When it comes to that paradigms shift faster than the speed of light......

One advert that has completely put me off buying anything from that particular brand is by a manufacturer of cameras. In this advert a lady announces that she is a type of camera. Who are you kidding, woman? Are you receiving treatment for this psychopathic delusion?!

And this brings me seamlessly (!) to the subject of this post. For there are very few musical groups that have a name that is more inviting, more curiosity provoking than the group of the late Suberu Oni. Indeed: Why Worry?

I have attempted to dig up some background to this musical master from Nigeria, but have found it a challenge. Suberu Oni appears have been one of the pioneering highlife artists rising to fame in the 1950s and 1960s. A contemporary of Ayinde Bakare and Theophilus Iwalokun, he was a native of Ondo (and assume they mean the city in the state of the same name) and sang in a local Ondo dialect with a distinct, deep guttural voice.

The name of his record label suggests Suberu Oni was proud of his origins. The name Ekimogun is probably related to the name of an annual event. "On Ekimogun Day all sons and daughters of Ondo Kingdom at home and in the Diaspora come together to showcase their culture and raise funds for the development of their community.
In the past 23 years that the Ekiomogun Day has taken place, hundreds of indigenes have benefited from scholarship awards and trainings, through the funds generated by the organisers of the event, the Ondo Development Committee."
I think it would be too much of a coincidence to assume that Oni´s label led to the naming of this event. It seems more likely that both refer to another element of Ondo tradition and/or culture.

As to this lp, I am totally in the dark when it comes to titles and other useful info. Perhaps someone can help us out. If not, we still have the solid, old style music and those remarkable voices. And that in itself is good enough, if you ask me.
So why worry?

Ekimogun EKLP 096 (alternative link)

Twin

For those in Bamako, Mali, from October 24 to 29 there is a chance to meet some of the experts on African music during a symposium organised by the Centre Culturel Français in Bamako. And I will be there too, not so much an expert as an experienced amateur (and/or 'dabbler').

For me it will be a chance to meet some people again. Graeme Counsel and I only meet in Bamako, and it will be just over ten years since we last met on the occasion of the first Semaine Nationale des Arts et de la Culture, which took place from September 11 to 21, 2001. But some sadness will also be inevitable, as many of my musical friends will be missing, - and missed. Daouda 'Flani' Sangaré, Zani Diabaté, Ali 'Farka' Touré: they have all passed away.

For those who are unable to attend, I will attempt to report on the event when I get back.


All this has little or nothing to do with the cassette I would like to share with you in this post. This cassette has presented a mystery to me since I got it in the early 1990s. I have no idea what ensemble, troupe or group is playing, and I can only guess what the titles are. The sleeve carries no information apart from the title "Gao Thonville". And I am pretty sure that by the last name they actually mean "Thionville", a town in the north-east of France near the German border.

Apparently Thionville is twinned with Gao. This 'jumelage' was started in 1986, was suspended in 1992 (as a result of the Tuareg rebellion) and resumed in 1999.

My guess is that this cassette is a result of the enthusiasm of the initial twinning. This enthusiasm is reflected in the musical content. Or perhaps "love" is a better word to describe the general feeling (sorry) of the music.

The songs appear to be entirely in the Sonrai (or Songhai or Songhoi) tradition, which is no wonder given the history of Gao as the capital of the Sonrai empire. Perhaps you even recognise track B3 as a version of "Tamala (Maïga)", the first song of the Songhai lp in the "Premiere Anthologie de la Musique Malienne" on Bärenreiter-Musicaphon. Compared to this, the version on this cassette is much smoother, less earthy, and this is largely a result of the strange instrument which plays a leading role on this cassette. You may be tempted at first to think it is a kind of balafon. A smaller type perhaps. But listening to the first notes on side B it becomes clear that it must be a kind of lamellophone or thumb piano. This instrument, plus the njarka (fiddle), and the proud singing of the girls' chorus make this cassette one that could claim a permanent place in your musical memory, - as it has done with me....

Gao Thonville (cassette)

EverGreenSound

In this post I would like to share with you a rather obscure lp, produced in Nigeria but containing music from Congo. The obscurity is limited to the production. The artists, although not credited on the sleeve nor on the label (for copyright reasons?), are of the well-known variety. Of the ten tracks on this compilation four are by the O.K. Jazz, two by the Negro Band, two by Rock-a-Mambo and two by the the - perhaps less known - Dynamic Jazz.

Although I am not sure about the Dynamic Jazz songs, I estimate all the tracks to be from the late 1950s. The songs performed by the O.K. Jazz were composed by that great guitarist Antoine Armando, better known as Brazzos, and were originally released as Loningisa 189 (in 1957) and 211 (in 1958). The songs by both the Negro Band and Rock-a-Mambo* were originally released on the Esengo label as Esengo 192 ("Kumaye"), 194 ("Senhorita"), 119 ("Brigitte") and 71 ("Bakoule Bidama"). And Dynamic Jazz made records (and quite a few) for the Ngoma label. Both "Rumbita Dynamic Jazz" and "A mi amor bonita" were at one point released on the Super 45 (EP) 1005.

As a compilation this record deserves excellent marks. It features some of the Greats of the époque d'or of Congolese music. "Bakoule Bidama", for example, not only stars singer Rossignol, but also Kabasele himself, as backing vocalist (and a brilliant one, if you ask me!), plus Essous and Nino Malapet. Franco and Vicky Longomba both are prominent in the O.K. Jazz songs. But that is only to be expected.

Needless to say that my favourites are the tracks by Brazzos. I am still trying to figure out what latin original 'inspired' "Cuidado Conamallo" (which I suspect should be "cuidado con la mano"). I am inclined to believe that the O.K. Jazz copied the song (or perhaps just the name of the song) from other Congolese orchestras. I recall having heard a version by either Rock-a-Mambo or African Jazz (if I bump into it I´ll post it).

Lyric-wise there is a lot to be enjoyed, especially in that same song. With Vicky in fluent jibberish-spanish: "Venga, chiquita! Baila! Awela-wela" (or "abuela, abuela"?) ", si yo me muero muero muero de todo mi amor".
Who invented these lyrics?

ISP 101

* Actually "Brigitte" is credited in the Esengo catalogue to Lucie Yenga et l'African Rock.

"San" but really Nioro

In this post I would like to share two wonderful videos from Mali. Both are by a 'troupe' from San, a town (or village?) in the Ségou region.

Ségou may be known as the historic heart of the Bambara empire, it is also a region with a large cultural variety and diversity. A diversity that has been eminently exploited by great stars like Hawa Dramé and Safoura Denou & Seny Sangaré.

In this case I have been told that the songs are both Sarakolé traditionals. The first song, "Danama", has also been interpreted by another Malian diva, the great Mah Damba, on her very first cassette. And I am sure I have heard the second song performed by another singer, somewhere, sometime (please help me out here...).

I love the almost informal 'ambience' and the sheer fun of these two songs, and more particularly the dancing. The men take turns in showing of their skills, almost in a peacock manner. And the women in turn react (when they feel like it) by joining them. And the dance itself has absolutely nothing to do with the over the top dancing that is sometimes presented as "the" African dancing.



Although I have had this video for over twenty years I keep discovering new details. I refer to the reactions by the participants of the troupe, and not to the curtain, - which has of course seen some great acts over the years (you may remember this video, and I´m sure you´ll find more examples on Ngoni´s great Youtube channel).

The second song starts of in a much slower tempo, which reminds me of Hawa Dramé. But then it gradually gathers speed until, after 4'20, it switches into another rhythm, and a more peacocky dancing ensues. What a delight!

EDIT/CORRECTION: January 15, 2012: A comment on YouTube, plus the find of a video by "Les artistes de San" have urged me to investigate the origin of the groupe in these two videos.
This research has led to the correction posted here.

The videos in this post are in fact from a groupe from Nioro, in the Kayes region and near the Mauretanian border. As to the cultural origins of the music it seems likely the comment on YouTube may be right that group is Bella (i.e. maure).

Mbaraka on TV

I have to confess it is at times hard to keep up with all the comments that are sent to me both on posts on this weblog and on videos uploaded to Youtube. Although I don't always have the time to react to all of these I can assure you I do read them and do appreciate all the comments* you send in.

The other day a comment was sent to me by a Mr. Msomali, who is - I deduce from his writings - a Tanzanian living in the UK. He wrote about a subject which is also very close to my heart and very high on my (unfortunately extensive) wishlist:
"I want to start the discussion of where the videos of Mbaraka Mwinshehe can be found. I am sure it is in Kenya and Japan.

I will explain why.
Mbaraka took his Morogoro Jazz Band as part of a large group of cultural ensembles/artists representing Tanzania in the EXPO 70 exhibition that took place in Japan in 1970. Being good in technology as they are, I am certain the Japanese recorded every event that went on in each pavilion.

As to Kenya: a lady asks her husband to take her to a Super Volcano show (when the Band was visiting the couple's town) as she says she listens to their songs almost every single day on the Radio, and she also watches them often on the Television. All this is in Mbaraka's song called 'Nipeleke Nikashudie' (which roughly translate as "Take me, so that I can see them perfom live"). By TV here she means VOK Tv (Voice of Kenya Tv).

I believe both VOK (now called KBC Tv) and NHK Tv (Japan's National Tv) have Mbaraka's videos in their archives.

I also believe that both these institutions have a public duty to release these videos of one of the truly gifted musicians to come out of East Africa.
His country was/still is too poor to have have had Television in his lifetime, but he served Kenyans and entertained them in equal measure, and has everyone listened to his song EXPO 70, celebrating his participation there?
Mbaraka belonged to all of us, so the least these two institutions can do to world music heritage is to release his videos into the public domain.

Any ideas on how we can go about asking them to do this service to world music, anyone?

Regards
Mr. Msomali"

What can I say? I support this appeal wholeheartedly. I can't wait to see a video of this giant of Tanzanian music.

If there is anyone out there who has links with either Kenyan or Japanese television, please help us out!

And should you need any encouragement I advise you to listen to this brilliant sample of the great man's repertoire, which as it happens contains both the song "Nipeleke Nikashudie" and two songs dedicated to the EXPO in Japan (including that killer "Expo No.2"!!!!). And the five other songs are all equally disarming in their unpretentious and truely authentic brilliance.

POLP 566 (or POLP 566) (December 21, 2016: update the first link to 320 kbps)

* I would like to make an exception to those sad idiots (and I am holding back here...) who try and slip a commercial link into their so-called comments.

Crossover

Over the years I have come to acquire a distinct aversion against the term "crossover". It must have started in the eighties with (the highly respected and very likeable) journalist Stan Rijven, who was always on the lookout for the connection, the 'cross-fertilisation' (yuk) and the 'sameness of the other'. At the back of this inclination I couldn't help but suspect a lack of confidence in the appeal of African music.
My personal preference lay and lies in finding the 'otherness in the other', in the authenticity of the (so far) unknown. If I had wanted more of the same I wouldn't have ventured out into the realm of African music. How can I appreciate a crossover if I have no idea of the individual elements involved in the crossing?

Rochereau (r) with a very young Daouda Sangaré

Twenty-five years later my aversion is still present. Experience has shown that musicians claiming that their music is a 'crossover' between styles usually produce a watered-down blend of predominantly western music.

This doesn't mean, however, that all 'interaction' between different musical styles is uninteresting. But the real enjoyment of this can only start with the understanding and acknowledgement of the styles involved.

And that brings me to the subject of this post.

For how can anyone really enjoy Rochereau's version of "Seyni Kay Fonema" without knowing Laba Sosseh's original (here and here), and without having some knowledge of Rochereau and his background and of the music of African Fiesta (in this case National) and African Jazz?
Rochereau's version was recorded in the late 1960s and is not only interesting because it is a cover of a Senegalese song. That in itself is if not unique, at least very special. I suspect that Laba Sosseh singing a Congolese tune (Orch. Bella Bella's "Sola") is not half as special.
It is unclear why "Izeidi" is included in the title, unless Roger Izeidi is playing the (prominent) maracas in the song or is responsible for the rather abundant orchestral arrangment, as he was in the Surboum days with African Jazz. Both are possible.

The end result is very enjoyable. I doubt very much though if this song can or should be called a crossover. Not only is there no crossing going on (it's just a slightly different version of the original), but also it is not really very far from African Fiesta's style. As Franco put it in 1987, the main source of inspiration of the African Jazz school of Congolese music lies in Latin-American music. So a Latin-tinged song like "Izeidi Seyni Kai Fonema" is normal for one of the main representatives of the school.

The B-side of the single (Ngoma J 5153), "Los Probas", seems to confirm this. I haven't been able to trace the - no doubt latin - original of this song (maybe this has another title?), but it is still very much in the African Fiesta style of borrowed melodies like "Africa(n Jazz) Mokili Mobimba" and "Kayi Kayi".

The second single (Ngoma J 5156) has more of the same: an instrumental, "Négra Sanda", which could be (and I'm not saying it is) a version of "La Negra Sanda", a song composed by a certain Francia, and made famous in the early sixties by Pete Terrace (I hadn't heard of him either..) and - perhaps even earlier - by Fajardo y sus Estrellas.
The B-side, "Munequita" (and that's what he sings), certainly is not the "Muñequita" of Sonora Matancera or of Orquesta Aragón, nor Aragón's "Bella Muñequita", - but I'll be damned if the original is not Cuban.

Luckily I have traced the source of "Trembla Tiera" (Flash FL 39, the B-side of Sam Mangwana's wonderful "Bina Ringa", which has appeared on several lp's and cd's). The song was composed by a certain G. Ruiz Perez and recorded as "Tiembla Tierra" by the (still) great Orquesta Aragón.

With all these tracks I love the way in which Rochereau is trying to cover up that he has no idea what he is singing. In "Izeidi Seyni Kay Fonema" this results in a kind of melodic mumbling with a few recognisable words thrown in. In the spanish songs he is slightly more confident, but still has a tendency to drift off into gibberish.
I love it!

More Rochereau to follow soon.

Ngoma J 5153
Ngoma J 5156
Flash FL 39

or as one file.

PS± Covers of the Ngoma´s are very welcome...

Title (no longer) unknown

The cassette I would like to share with you in this post was a major source of inspiration for me to want to dig deeper into the music of Mali. I copied it from a Malian living in Amsterdam in the mid-1980s. I remember he complained that a lot of Malian music was "talk talk talk". I assumed he meant he was no fan of the "Regard Sur Le Passé" genre. I, however, was new to this phenomenon, and was - and still am - intrigued by the combination of epic and music. The epic part was (and still largely remains) a mystery to me, but the music.... Well, what can I say? It was love at first hearing.

A little later I discovered that some of the tracks of this cassette were also available on lp. The lp being the Bärenreiter-Musicaphon version of a Malian original, by the Orchestre Régional de Ségou. The cassette had "Super Biton" written on it, but it was clear that this was the same ensemble.

To be honest, I still prefer the cassette.
And not just because of the absence of the irritating fake applause on "Da Monzon". But mainly because of the titles on the B-side.

The cassette is undisputable proof of the Greatness of the regional orchestre of Ségou. An orchestra that can come up with a majestic, or even imperial, beginning like the one of the second or the fifth song on the B-side, should have at least a museum to preserve their legacy and to glorify their name.

Unfortunately nothing of the sort has happened to Super Biton. As I reported in an earlier post the orchestra fell apart in the late 1980s, and it is nowadays hard to find any traces of the orchestra in Mali, other than indirect references*.
I hasten to add though that attempts are being made to revive the orchestra, albeit in a leaner version. I'll keep you informed.

At one point I found someone who gave me the titles of the tracks on the B-side, but unfortunately the list got lost somewhere between Bamako and Amsterdam, along with assorted other items of my luggage. Perhaps there is someone who can help us out with these?

As a bonus I add another version of "Bakari Dian", which is from a cassette recorded at my request in 1990 at Radio Mali. It is perhaps hard to recognise, but it is - unless I am very much mistaken - the same version as the one on "Regard sur le passé à travers le présent".

"Bakari Dian" (Malian cassette earlier 1980s)

And finally as an extra bonus I am adding a FLAC version of the Bärenreiter-Musicaphon lp.

BM 30 L 2601

* and while on the subject of videos, you may want to take a look at this 1990 video by the last remnants of Biton. Certainly worthwhile.

EDIT November 13, 2011: I had to change the title of this post, as I have retrieved the names of the songs of this cassette. In meeting the members of the orchestra in Bamako, I was able to sit down with them and listen to the cassette. Toussaint Siané, with the help of the other singers (and especially doyen Mamadou 'Coulou' Coulibaly), wrote down the missing titles. The version with the titles can be found here: Bakari Dian (Malian cassette 198x)

Short message

To those that are getting worried I may have stopped: I am experiencing some problems with the connection to the internet. I am busy trying to resolve these.

I have no intention of stopping, and hope to resume 'service' as soon as possible.

EDIT August 21, 2011: Connection has been restored, so a new post can be expected soon.

Jealousy

I have asked (the now unfortunately late) Daouda 'Flani' Sangaré about the labelling of this album. And he agreed that "Rythmes du Wassoulou" only partly covers the music he and his friend Alou Fané recorded. Both Flani's and Alou's roots lie in an area just to the east of the Wassoulou. Alou has indicated that he was influenced mostly by the music of the hunters (donso n'goni), but Flani's influences are more diverse.

Compared to their first album (which I posted earlier) the second one has more of Flani than of Alou. Also the themes of their songs seem to get increasingly moral and theatrical. I assume their work with the Ballet National (see this post) had something to do with that.

As a member of the Ballet they were encouraged to do research. Flani told me that whenever he went to his native district he would go and talk to the elders, and would coax them - by gifts of cola nuts and some money - into telling him the tales and legends of the past. He was well aware that, until he would get to a certain age, they were not going to tell him the whole of these stories. And he assured me that he too did not use all of the information he had received...

The main inspiration for their songs came, however, from daily life. "You in Europe sing about the moon and the sun. You can sing about anything as long as it sounds okay", commented Flani when I first interviewed him. "But we have to have a reason to sing a song. The song has to reflect reality, either the reality of today or that of the past. Suppose I would sing about the moon, people would come up to me and ask me what I mean."

Both daily life and the theatrical were obviously present in the song which became their biggest 'hit' ever: "Keleya". The song is about the jealousy ("keleya") between co-épouses (co-wifes) in a polygamous marriage. When performing the song Flani would dress up as a woman, and would at times improvise to add to the comical effect of the song. The song was even recorded for television:


In the video, recorded in 1983, Alou is playing kamalen n'goni and Djourou Diallo flute. The song was later also recorded with the Djata Band, and was re-recorded by Flani, Alou and Djourou in 1995 1987 (see comments) in an austere London studio for the album of the same name which was released by Indigo (label Blue). An album which I - unfortunately - cannot recommend.

Besides "Keleya" the lp which I am sharing with you in this post contains a full palette of wonderful songs.
Starting with "Flédonkli", a song in which Alou and Flani alternately sing the lead. I just love the natural way in which they take turns, while staying in their own style. The two voices meet at the end.
The uptempo rhythm of "Flêlibana" certainly does not remind me of the music of the Wassoulou (apart from the very end, that is). Sung solo by Flani, this song appears to be inspired by a traditional (percussion?) style of Flani's Ganadougou district.

My favourite song on this lp is the last one of the A-side: "Ounhoun Koro". I know this was a favourite of Flani himself too, if only for the 'posé' rhythm (Flani was a sucker for posé rhytms; he loved Haruna Ishola). Alou's subtle ngoni playing is matchless in this song, adding to the posé effect. Flani's voice is full of deep emotion, while Alou's vocal is almost comforting behind him. I especially like the last thirty seconds, when they almost fade out the song, but without touching the volume.

"Mangoya" is perhaps the most Wassoulou style song of the album. It is sung in an almost monotonous singing style by Flani. I am sure this must be related to the lyrics.
You may recall the last song, "Koursigui Tan", from the tribute to Zani Diabaté. In this, the original version, Alou demonstrates that you can increase the tension by playing an apparently very stoic rhythm. I have heard several ngoni players trying to imitate this brilliantly understated style, but so far I have not heard anyone who can match Alou. I never cease to be amazed, by the way, by the timing of Flani in rejoining the song (after 4'07).
I will write about the lyrics of this song in a later post.

Ivoire Polydisc IP 8301

PS: I won't bore you with the technical challenges that have kept me from posting in the last few weeks.