Did I tell you that I’m learning Spanish? A second visit to South America this summer confirmed my desire to one day live in Buenos Aires, or possibly Santiago.. or, hey, Colombia. Why not. Anyway, in honour of my (painfully slow, despite the French) adoption of a new language, let’s play some Colombian criolla music.. champeta, to be exact.

Benn loxo has a surprising number of listeners in Barranquilla, Colombia. Ok, not so many; there are three, as far as I know. But that’s more than I’d expect.

Benn loxo’s Barranquillan readers has sent me lots of music over the last year, mostly champeta, with a splash of cumbia here and there. Before you read any further you should check-out the wonderfully translated Wikipedia article on champeta. It’s clear to me now that the word champeta “makes reference to the knife, used in the work, in the kitchen and as defense and offensive weapon of this culture of he himself name.”

The African origins of champeta are immediately clear. Much of it sounds like a very slightly South Americanized soukous. It has a very different sound from the majority of South American styles, including the music by Belizean-African musicians that you might have heard here before.

The first couple tracks today come off a World Network release by Colombiafrica – The Mystic Orchestra, called Voodoo Love Inna Champeta Land. It’s a collaboration between Colombian champeta musicians and several well-known West African musicians, including members of Kékélé and Bembeya Jazz, Diblo Dibala, Rigo Star and others. Wow, that first song.

The second couple are reader contributed champeta tracks straight from the source. Unfortunately I don’t know who they’re by. Please let me know in the comments. Thanks, Fabian and Farid, for hooking us up with the artist names.

Respect to all the champeta fans out there who tune in to Benn loxo, and thanks for the promos and musical discoveries.

Colombiafrica / The Mystic Orchestra – Sambangole / Tres Golpes Na’ Mas
Colombiafrica / The Mystic Orchestra – Mini Kusuto
Dogard Disc – Quedo En Las Tablas
Charles King – Echale Tierra

It wasn’t a great BBC quiz week for me. Only 3 right. I guess that’s understandable considering I’ve been working long hours recently, preparing for something I probably won’t do anyway. (I was hoping to do a rugby series on Benn loxo like I did when I was working at the football world cup, complete with pitch-side African classics. We’ll see.)

Anyway, since my work plans for the next six weeks hang in the balance it’s appropriate that I do Benn loxo listener, Fabian, a favour and post a mystery song that he’d like to know more about.

If you know the composer, singer, language or any other detail about today’s song please leave a comment or send me an e-mail.

I’ll also include a second track by Jean Raph Loumbet sent my way by Fabian some time ago. I love the lyrics and the driving beat on this one.

Loumbet and his band, Les Zoulous, were apparently the first Ivoirians to produce Congolese soukous. The style had long been popular in the country, and mixing with a hint of post-Djedje Ivoirianess sounds great. Today’s track comes off his 1981 release, Renaissance Volume 1.

Speaking of Côte d’Ivoire, does anyone have a copy of Eba Aka Jerome’s single, Trahison?

Unknown – Patricia
Jean Raph Loumbet – Mbonge

Today we have a guest post from Benn loxo listener, CC Smith, in memory of Madilu System:

Bialu Makiese, better known as Madilu System, died suddenly on Aug. 11 in Kinshasa from complications of diabetes. He was 57 years old.

A member of the beefy front line of singers of TPOK Jazz since 1980, Madilu was known as Franco’s favorite singer, and his husky, nuanced baritone was heard on many of Franco’s greatest songs of that era, most notably supplying the lead on “Mario.” (This worldwide hit from 1986 was beautifully reprised by Africando on the 2006 Ketukuba album, again with Madilu on lead vocal.)

Following the death of Franco in 1989 and the dissolution of OK Jazz, Madilu proceeded with a solo career and had just released a new recording, La Bonne Humeur, in Paris this summer. He was also an exceptional harmony vocalist, and frequently joined other singers such as Nyboma, Josky and Malage in duets and lush choral arrangements.

His warm cameo “Tapale” on Kekele’s Kinavana album is one of the delights of that production. But my favorite song by Madilu is “Ya Jean” from his Sans Commentaire album of 1994, a gorgeous heartfelt tribute to Franco Luambo Makiadi with Rigo Star providing the lead guitar on the first section, and Syran Mbenza standing in for the ghost of Franco on the second part, channeling the Grand Maitre’s signature guitar lines as Madilu pours out an anguished wail from the depths of his soul.

CC Smith
The Beat Magazine

Madilu System – Ya Jean

Benn loxo reader and contributor, Fabián, comes through again with some great music by Congolese musicians living in Kenya during the 1970s. I’ve also included a few tracks from my own collection to beef-up the post.

I love reading the stories about how all these bands and the personalities behind them are connected. This is especially true when you’re talking about a relatively small group, Conogolese musicians living in Nairobi during the 1970s and early 80s.

Pepelepe was formed by ex-members of Baba Gaston’s Baba Nationale who had recently moved to Nairobi from Zaire in the early 1970s.

Jim Monimambo formed the Boma Liwanza offshoot, Special Liwanza, in Nairobi in 1976. I would love to get some more Boma Liwanza music. Anyone up for a trade?

Monimambo also wrote and performed for Orchestra Shika Shika, another group that had formed in 1980s in the aftermath of Boma Liwanza’s break-up.

I’ve included some Orchestra Mazemba since they were one of the leading Congolese bands in Kenya during the 1970s and 80s.

Finally, something from the Kenya and Tanzania natives, Simba Wanyika, so we can hear how it wasn’t just the Congolese playing that pre-benga, early soukous style in 1970s Nairobi.

Thanks to Benn loxo reader, Cheeku, and Matt over at Matsuli Music for first introducing me to Shika Shika and the various Liwanzas. And thanks, Fabián, for the continuing contributions.

You can find more info by people who know a lot more about this era than I do here and here.

Orchestre Pepelepe – Mulambo
Orchestre Special Liwanza – Mwale parts 1 & 2
Orchestre Shika Shika – Diabanza
Orchestre Shika Shika – Ivete parts 1 & 2
Orchestre Super Mazembe – Kassongo
Simba Wanyika – Shilingi maua tena maua

Last week I got back from an 11-day trip in Cuba. I spent about a week in Havana plus a few days time in the west of the country, seeing Pinar del Rio, Vinales and finally the beaches and underwater life at Maria la Gorda.

It goes without saying that Cuban music, both old and new, is amazing. I heard the tourist-ringed but high-quality live salsa and rumba on every corner in Havana Vieja, Santaria rumba with the Conjunto folklórico, Afro-Cuban jazz at La Zorra y El Cuelvo, late nights, hard reggaeton and I-wish-I-could-dance-like them action at numerous clubs in Miramar and Vedado, sub-par big-name salsa at La Casa de la Musica and much more.

I try my best not to get political on this site, but let me say that visiting Cuba is a bit like going to a maximum security prison on the beach, snapping pictures of friendly inmates as they go about their business.

Most Cubans aren’t allowed to travel at all, even inter-city within their own country. The average monthly cash take-home is about 15 Euros a month. Prostitution is a disturbingly tolerated practice on a scale that outstrips Nigerian oil bars and Senegalese nightclubs. There are no boats on the water or in the harbour aside from patrols and tourists, not even for fishing. The vast majority of people aren’t allowed to own a car or pretty much anything else. If you’re a Cuban and have a relationship with a foreigner living in Cuba you will usually kiss your chances of getting a travel permit goodbye. The whole system is setup to reward those who play by the rules and punish those who don’t. Never question Fidel and you might get a TV. Organize enough anti-US parades and you might just get a job at a hotel… and the tips that come with it.

As I said to a friend earlier today, Cuba is a beautiful, fascinating… and ultimately very sad place. Any positive things I had thought about certain aspects of Fidel’s Cuba, such as good medicare, innovative urban agriculture policies, etc, went out the window. All of that is worthless if you have absolutely no freedom. And for all those who keep telling me “it was good you went before he dies” – no hurry, it’s not going to change anytime soon. If anything, rules are tightening these days. State-appointed company heads are being replaced with pro-Revolution activists by the dozen and authorities are cracking down on previously overlooked practices. I saw a bunch of “Viva Raul” signs around Havana, albeit small ones not quite ready for the prime time.

Anyway… very glad I went.

And as this is an African music web site I thought I’d post a song by a Congo-born Angolan who has been heavily influenced by Cuban music, salsa in particular. We can all thank Benn loxo listener, CC Smith of The Beat Magazine in San Francisco, for today’s music. I’ll share some real Havana Afro-Cuban later in the week.

Ricardo Lemvo combines salsa, soukous and some Afro-Portuguese elements into his music. He’s lived in the States since he was 15, but was born in Congo to parents of Angolan descent. He normally records with Makina Loca, but he’s also done some work with Africando.

Lemvo’s latest album, Isabela, was released this month. I’ve had it on repeat this afternoon while I cook a spicy, end of winter chilli con carne.

Ricardo Lemva & Makina Loca – Kasongo Boogaloo

I’m going to be driving for seven hours today. I need some good sounds for the road.

Guitar.
From the 60s.
African, of course.
Something to keep me awake.

“Eh bien, mon ami!” sings Dr. Nico. There we go… let’s hit the autobahn.

African Fiesta rocked the soukous airwaves from 1963 until they split in 1965. It was originally a collaboration between the great Tabu Ley Rochereau and the “Dieu de la guitare”, Dr. Nico Kasanda. Tabu Ley then went off to form African Fiesta National. Dr. Nico responded with his own originally-named venture, African Fiesta Sukisa.

With a name like “the God of the guitar”, however, you’re bound to get a little cocky; by 1968 this band had disbanded since the other members didn’t feel like they were getting their due.

“Eh bien, mon ami” showed-up on Sonodisc’s 1968 release, African Party. I love the way Dr. Nico sounds like he’s weeping at the mic. Lots more on Dr. Nico’s assorted recordings and checkered past over at musikfan.

African Fiesta – Eh Bien Mon Ami

I’m going to Argentina for two and half weeks so there won’t be any new posts until March 29th.

I leave you with some Mbilia Bel, one of the first female mega-stars of African music. She became popular when she started singing with Tabu Ley Rochereau during the 1980s and eventually earned a reputation as a solo artist through her work with percussionist Rigo Star in Paris. She now lives on the West Coast in the US.

You can grab today’s track on Bel’s 1991 album, Bameli Soy.

Enjoy, et bientôt.

Mbilia Bel – Lizanga Bambanda

For those who know and love Dakar, you’d probably laugh and say, “really? are you kidding?” if I told you that a new amusement park opened here, just down the street from Soubedioune fish market. Ah yes, the Disney of Dakar, a West Africa Wonderland – say hello to Magicland!

A bunch of us went down yesterday afternoon to check out this wonder of the sub-Saharan world. We ate cotton candy, watched our friend’s cute kid ride the rollercoaster, bashed the crap out of each other at the karting, and even rode some mechanical bulls. Good, clean fun made twisted by the fact that all of this was happening in my dusty home of Dakar.

If you’re asking yourself, “what’s the big deal? It’s just some crappy new amusement park,” you need to get your ass over to Senegal and see why such things can only be funny.

Anyway, in honour of all that’s plastic and metal on the West African Atlantic coast I’m going to post some carnaval soukous music by the late Pépé Kallé. Sometimes known as the Atomic Bomb, this rather portly master of the Congolese soukous sound is right up there with some of the top soukous musicians out of Congo during the 1970-90s. He’s played with some great musicians in his day like Diblo Dibala and Kinanga “Boeing 737″.

I always like a good dose of rumba rhythm on a Monday. You can also enjoy some if you buy Gigantafrique, Kallé’s 1990 best-of release that contains the track I’m posting today.

Pépé Kallé – Cé Chalé Carnaval

WAKE UP! It’s Saturday! Time for wailing guitars, gyrating buttocks and shaking bosom!

I completely forget who this song is by or what the title is. But long live bootlegs, long live soukous and long live Congo.

Well, I’m awake now… you?

Congolese Music for a Saturday Morning

There’s this great club in Dakar called Le Voyageur. If you hit it on a good night it’ll be packed until dawn with a couple hundred sweaty, university-aged Central Africans dancing to hip-hop, rnb and, most often, soukous.

I like the Voyageur because as much as I enjoy Senegalese mbalax, contemporary Congolese music, particularly soukous, is much easier to move to. Something about the quick, repetitive rhythms and swiftly-picked electric guitar makes you want to stick your ass right out there and shake it around the dancefloor. (My back is almost better so this may soon be possible.)

Soukous is one of the most recognizable forms of sub-Saharan African music. It has a large following in Western countries not limited to African ex-pats, comes in many forms and has been around for a long time. Old-school African music collectors will sneer at new forms of the music while the kids at Le Voyageur will laugh at the soukous of old.

In today’s post I’m going to do a hack-job at tracing the evolution of the kind of modern soukous you’ll hear in the DRC, the Voyageur or some hot-spots in Ixelles, Brussels.

First we’ll start with Kanda Bongo Man. In 1981 his album, Iyole, was a major hit both in Europe and in the DRC. Its success helped further the morphing of soukous into a high-energy dancefloor music as many of us now know it.

Secondly, Kanda’s star guitarist, Diblo Dibala, used this success to launch his own project, Loketo. Loketo, like Kanda Bongo Man’s band, inspired many other bands and eventually splintered into numerous soukous spin-offs.

Third, Dibala eventually left Loketo and put out a few solo albums and others with Matchata. His style remained consistent: a high-energy soukous infused with quick guitar, nice harmonies and fast rhythms.

Dancefloor soukous is now firmly established as the dominant form of music in Congo thanks to the work of Kanda, Dibala and others. It continues to evolve, so lastly I’ll post a track by one of the current kings of the Congolese music scene, Koffi Olomide. He has developed his own flavour of modern soukous called ndombolo that’s currently all the rage in Kinshasa.

ps- I’m pleased to announce that I’ve hopefully struck up a deal with some local hip-hop and graffiti artists in Dakar so we’re going to try to do some kind of a multi-post feature next week. Stay tuned…

Kanda Bongo Man – Iyole
Koffi Olomide – Droit de véto
Diblo Dibala – Super K
Loketo – Pingui Bill