This Friday 11th June, fans of real black music are going to feel nice. The OKRA project has teamed up with Adesose Wallace’s Ibile and Dalston’s Passing Clouds venue to bring the people a night of tone, taste and texture spanning Africa, the Caribbean and South America.
Representing Africa, 11-strong outfit Ibile hit the stage with a serious blend of Afrobeat, Highlife and raw West African drums. For better or worse, there has been an exponential rise in the number of Afrobeat/Afro-Funk/Highlife bands in the capital over the last few years but be warned, Ibile is the real deal. If you read the excerpt from our interview with him, you’ll know that Adesose Wallace is as authentic as they come. He’s played with Geraldo Pino, the James Brown of Afro-funk, and the inspiration for Fela Kuti to transform his Hi-Life Jazz sound into Afrobeat. Ade has also worked with Hugh Masekela, Miriam Makeba and a host of other African music legends and to this day, teaches West African rhythm and song to students countrywide – basically, he’s real.
Representing the Caribbean, OKRA presents Ras Happa and the Harambe Drummers throwing down a live set of pounding Jamaican roots drums and dance. Long before reggae music warmed its first amplifier and rumbled it’s first speaker cone, the island of Jamaica danced to the beat of Nyabinghi, Kumina and Revival drums. Rhythms and dances which are so powerful, they still emerge in the beats and sequenced movements of the freshest bashment dancehalls. Unfortunately, the dancehall didn’t assimilate the spirit of the culture with quite the same vigour…..that’s where we come in. To compliment proceedings Duke Etienne and Suga Kan’n keep it raw, roots and occasionally, savage with a DJ selection linking the past with the buzz of the afro-future.
Representing South America, Otto Nascarella takes a pause from the rootical, tropical funk of his Saravah Soul project to throw down a scorching selection infused with his Brazillian roots.
“The Creole Choir of Cuba, referred to as “Desandann” domestically, is composed from the descendants of several waves of Haitian migrants who escaped slavery at the end of the 18th Century or more recently came as labourers to work Cuba’s sugar plantations.
Between 1795 and 1805 30,000 Haitians emigrated to eastern Cuba. Two more waves followed, 1920-1940 and the 1980’s.
Today, estimates of the Haitian population in Cuba range from 300,000 to 1 million. Each wave of emigrants had its own distinct characteristics and brought with them their strong music and dance traditions, religion and cultural habits on their journey from Haiti to Cuba.
Grupo Vocal Desandann preserve the rich cultural patrimony of their parents’ and grandparents’ birthplace through music especially ”La Cancionistica” which has been enriched by elements of other Creole speaking Caribbean countries.
Their repertoire consists of a wide range of choral arrangements with percussion including Choucoune, a Haitian merengue, Gran Toumobile, a Creole Mazurka and Doudou Moin, a Martinique merengue.”
This was the intro the audience were given yesterday before the group came on. Honestly speaking, I tried not to set my hopes too high, preparing myself for a ‘user-friendly,’ cliched and a comfortably ‘ethnic-extravaganza.’
What came next was pure magic. In a language foreign to the entire audience, Desandann communicated a message that went far beyond the literal translation of their set. They told their tales of struggle, hardship and celebration using nothing but pure energy and emotion. Sound-wise, the harmonies were beyond sublime. Although slightly over-choreographed and a touch gimmicky at times, each performance seemed to hold a spiritual truth that connected us as listeners, to their forefathers’ stories and experiences. I would love to say that their execution was disciplined but that would be selling it short; despite the strict military precision at which Desandann progressed from one song to another, each song seemed to evoke spirits that possessed them whilst they delivered their messages. The level of intensity was immense and we were all captivated as they went from sombre goosepimply lamentations to traditional Creole folk and even high-octane tribal chants.
Please forgive my writing if this sounds cheesy, STOMP, this is NOT. In fact, of late, I’ve been quite uninpsired by the live performances I’ve experienced. For the unknown acts I’ve stumbled across – the recurring vibe I feel, is that of the hustle of the group performing, i.e. trying to appeal to the audience they were paid to please and lacking in the energy they once used to fuel their ambitions to reach a greater ideology through sharing these gifts.
“We all gotta eat, right?”
And as for those who’ve already made it, I personally feel as if there’s a plague of laziness, whereby the artist/s know precisely what’s going to happen and when, whilst the audience also know precisely what is going to be delivered and when. Its all value for money, no surprises and all that s**t.
Essentially both cases have the same boring outcome: a certain predictability and a false depiction of the artists’ freedom in live performance.
Desandann on the other hand, achieved the complete opposite by every measure. A ‘palatable,’ ‘riveting’ group unravelling many layers of freedom and truth. What I anticipated to be the ‘Caribbean version of Ladysmith Black Mambazo‘ turned out to possess a much richer core and purer intent.
Wilton’s Music Hall was a perfect setting for the performance with its peeling walls and worn out, yet beautifully embellished interior. Its stripped-down ambience was brought back to life by Desandann as they paid homage to history and time.
I cannot completely vouch for their non-cheesiness as there was a moment where I assume the organiser of the event was light-heartedly dragged out into the front to strut his stuff with one of the female singers. In saying that, it gave the choir a chance to express their gratitude for being provided with such an opportunity.
Desandann are quite familiar to other Caribbean Islanders and have been touring there, in America and Canada for quite some time. During Haiti’s disaster, Desandann were deployed there to maintain morale amongst the citizens, singing in the streets and in aid hospitals. However in Europe, Desandann seem to have soared in popularity only a year or so ago. Tonight, they featured on Jools Holland so hopefully they’ll be able to keep on returning back to teach those that have not yet heard.
As a result of their unexpected British popularity when they came to the UK to perform at WOMAD and the Edinburgh International Festival last year, Desandann recorded an album here in two days. I have not heard it but have since come to learn that they also perform songs in English, hymnals and other easily-likable styles. Thus I am unaware of the album’s content. Everything I have critiqued, relates to this particular live show. I can imagine the potency of Desandann’s message being lost within digital media formats. Who knows? However, in order to support their journey, I will definitely be picking up a copy. Desandann live, is a performance everyone ought to check out, in at least one stage of their life.
It’s been while since we spoke in depth. Apologies for the hiatus. Time will show where time was spent. I’ve been busy collating some pieces for the site, some pieces for friends and getting our monthly sessions back up & running. Thankfully, Lola has been holding it down in the meantime despite her own hyper-hectic schedule. Props to her for keeping the flow…
Alright, I was rappin’ with my man Jocko last night and all he could talk about was rhythm. With any African diaspora music, you cannot isolate the rhythm. The rhythm is always linked and the rhythm is always moving. Back to Jocko, as he was talking, I had a realisation. I love the rhythm. The rhythm is the foundation for nearly all music I hold close. My recent delve into the cross-pollination of the rhythm in the Caribbean (click here for the first evidence of this) made me realise just how little I knew about the traditions that underpin our musical expressions. Journalists love to squeeze tags like ‘Afro-inspired, Tribalistic and Tropical’ into their descriptions of contemporary musical movements, but what do those things really mean? I can honestly say that digging the traditions of the French Antilles, and meeting some amazing personalities in doing so has changed how I perceive music. Forever.
‘Traditional music has another aim than to entertain. Traditional music is the past, it is the present it is the future. Eternal music. Popular music aims solely to entertain but with the traditional, entertainment is but one of many aims.”
That’s my friend and colleague Suga Kan’n’s word. When he’s not making organic ice cream, he travels the African continent absorbing it’s traditional rhythms, dance and song. He also happens to have roots in Martinique. Linking with him provided me with an introduction into the Gwo-Ka I share with you today.
Both the name of a family of drums and the music they create, Gwo-Ka runs deep. Most often used as a platform for social commentary and inextricably linked with Africa, her culture and the idea of ancestral lineage, the Ka is heavy. Before I continue, check this out to feel the real…
The big drums the brothers are holding the foundation rhythm on are Bouladrums. You’ll find these type of drums or similar across the Caribbean. Again, the link… The soloist is playing something called a Kake drum. His job is to follow the moves of the dancer who is constantly trying to outsmart him with their steps. Traditionally, only one dancer holds the floor at any-time….pressure if your movement’s not fluid!
There are seven main rhythms in the Gwo Ka family each having dozens of variations. The tradition has been on Guadeloupe since the first slave ships docked. Some say the rhythms come from the Kongo (an idea I like) others say they developed with Guadeloupe’s slave communities. Either way, there’s a depth to the Ka you can’t ignore.
Alongside Velo, the official king of Ka (whose statue can now be found on la rue Saint John Perse, Point A Pitre). The work of Gwo Ka musicians like Germain Calixte, Ti Celeste and Carnot deserve a place on the world stage.
Recognition is a sore point when it comes to Gwo Ka. For reasons which I explore in an upcoming SHOOK feature, the style never made a strong impact on the collective consciousness outside of the islands and their ex-pat communities. There are a few heads who have bridged the gap and taken the Ka somewhere other – mostly somewhere Jazz. Again, hold tight for the SHOOK piece. You’ll have all the info you need, past and present….
When something touches you its good to share it. It cleanses the soul. My soul feels a little cleaner now. I hope this all means something to you. If it does, be sure to stay tuned for the fullness and for more rhythm talk…
A singer, self-taught guitarist, painter, writer and musical pioneer, Lizzy Mercier Descloux was special. Her sound, like that of her No Wave peers, occupied the space between Punk and Funk. It was her expansion of that space that made her so unique. Sounding more like a softly spoken beat poet than a singer, Lizzy chanted, scatted and chatted over effect-laden rhythm tracks composed of minimal, single note guitar lines, off-key harmonies and rhythm sections oozing with funk. To begin with at least, the people weren’t ready. Like Albert Ayler’s Free Jazz formations of the early 60’s or J Dilla’s late 90s MPC musings, Joe Public and Ian Industry slept….thankfully though, they woke up.
A Paris native, Lizzy made the transatlantic jump to New York in the mid 70s. Starting as she meant to go on, she published ‘Desiderata’ (a collection of poems and photographs), bought a Fender Jazzmaster guitar, starred in the New Cinema short ‘Blank Generation‘ and eventually recorded a six-track mini LP for the cult legend ZE Records under the moniker Rosa Yemen in 1978. Rosa’s low-key Punk Funk stylings invited comparisons to fellow No Wavers ‘Mars‘, but the release showed few signs of the genius that was ahead of her.
The real gold came with the release of her ‘Press Color‘ long player in 1979. The album is simply off the chain. Now, I was born in 1979 and waited almost twelve years to experience genres whose seeds can be found germinating on Press Color. LP cuts like ‘Hard Boiled Babe‘ and ‘Birdy – Num -Num‘ are mind blowing. The former sounding like a pre digital Burial/Sbtrkt cut with French accented vocals while the latter presents an eerily pitched jazz workout punctuated by double time, proto Drum & Bass rhythms. Heat.
Predictably, LMD found little fame with her 1979 offering. Despite its artistic calibre, ‘Press Color’ was barely distributed in the U.S.. The true light of her work managed to shine through however and a tour of the States and Europe grabbed the attention Island Records supremo, Chris Blackwell resulting in the tropical funk of ‘Mambo Nassau‘.
Recorded in the Bahamas at Blackwell’s Compass Point Studios and crediting one Wally Badarou with co-writing and production, Mambo Nassau married the futuristic Punk Funk of Press Colour with subtle African/Caribbean musical constructions and hyper energetic equatorial vibes. Although not as hard-edged as it’s predacessor (which is natural when you exchange the NY skyline with the Bahamas coastline), Mambo Nassau still has it’s fair share of noteworthy moments. Highlights include the synth driven syncopation of ‘Five Troubles Mambo‘, the melancholic stepping of the Bob Marley cover ‘Sun Is Shining‘ and the Pidgin Funk of ‘Lady O’K'pele‘. Lizzy had been closely studying ‘World Music’ collections issued on the french Ocora label and it’s no accident that the Mambo Nassau LP bears the hallmark of an artist who was looking beyond the Western preoccupation with funk, soul and rock. Again, success was elusive under the star spangled banner but this time Lizzy’s efforts were appreciated in Europe, with her home country’s CBS office adding her to their roster. The people had woken up.
Clearly the ‘World Music’ bug (World Music was a term which was yet to come into existence) had bitten LMD hard. 1983 saw her exploring the African continent, beginning in Ethiopia and culminating in South Africa. Naturally, she recorded an album on her travels, it’s title track ‘Mais où Sont Passées les Gazelles‘ becoming a surprise hit in France and despite being three albums deep in creation, it is this track that remains her signature piece to the European market. It peaked at number 30 in the French charts and it’s international focus somehow managed to alter the course of French Pop music from that point onward.
From here on in we complete a familiar story. The sequence is this:
1. Artist offers up some truly inspirational forward thinking creativity. The people sleep.
2.Artist continues to do so, the people sleep but some take it on.
3. Artist’s output loses some of its original magic but the people are now awake and lauding his/her present offerings with praise.
4. Artist ‘peaks’ in the mainstream sense and continues to create work which gradually falls into obscurity again, but this time without the quality that characterised their early releases.
In Lizzy’s case, this ‘post-peak’ period saw her working with Chet Baker on her 1985 offering ‘One For The Soul‘ and linking up with old peers from her No Wave days Mark Cunningham and Constance Burg for her final release, 1988’s ‘Suspense‘. There is also rumoured to be an unreleased album of her work recorded in 1995.
At the end of her recording career, Lizzy settled in Corsica and revisited her old loves, painting and writing, completing a novel ‘Buenaventura’ which is as yet unpublished. Sadly, in 2003 she was diagnosed with a cancer which proved terminal when she left our realm in on 20th April 2004. It is said that two Dolphins surfaced as her ashes were scattered into the sea off the coast of Saint Florent, Corsica. The Dolphins knew too…
Needless to say, the very fact I am writing this shows both my admiration and gratitude for the influence her work has had. I am happy that compliation projects like Strut’s ZE 30 and Soul Jazz’s New York Noise are doing what the re-issues of her early work failed to and shine a broader beam on a truly inspirational pioneer. An artist who was immersed in punk and yet never conveyed any anger in her work, instead presenting a child-like wonder of the world, its cultures and possibilities. I’ll leave the last words to punk icon Richard Hell with whom Lizzy worked on her ‘Desiderata’ book:
“At 17 she was more sophisticated than anyone I’d known, while also seeming utterly unaffected. Or at least her affectations came from such a stubborn confidence and will to defy convention that they were irresistible.”
Click Here to listen to Duke Etienne’s latest Afro/Two-Step/Funky/Aquacrunk/Soul selection which kicks off with LMDs ‘Hard Boiled Babe’… and see below for Lizzy Mercier Descloux’s unrivalled discography.
Heads High is a community enterprise. It's just we have a very wide definition of community. Your views, comments and nudges in the right direction are highly valued.
Any material offered for download on this site is intended solely for consideration/promotion . Please do not hesitate to CONTACT US if any of the material is your intellectual property and you wish it to be removed.
Loading...