'Mère Supérieure'

Shungu Wembadio Pene Kikumba has gone by various names--including Jules, and later Jules Presley, also Bokulaka (chief) and Chief Coutumier de la Village Molokai--but the world will always know him as Papa Wemba, one of the greatest singers, composers and bandleaders Congo music has ever produced. Wemba first emerged as a vocalist in Kinshasa's top "youth band," Zaiko Langa Langa, founded in 1969, but he began freelancing early, particularly with bands interested in incorporating the music of his native Kasai region in the Congolese interior, bands like Isifi Lokole and Yoka Lokole. In 1976, Wemba formally launched the band he has been identified with ever since, Viva la Musica. A decade later, he would create a new, international persona in Europe and tour the world with a different band, but Viva la Musica has remained, with or without him, a kind of bedrock and home base for this musical voyageur.

Stern's has done an impressive job of summing up a complex career, both in the 18 tracks on these two CDs, and in illuminating sleeve notes by Vincent Luttman. This collection wisely steers clear of Wemba's better known international work to focus on the evolution of Viva la Musica. The first CD (1977-83) provides the richest material, spotlighting the rowdy "rumba rock" that first put Wemba on the Congo music map. "Mère Supérieure," Wemba's first big hit, dispenses quickly with the laidback rumba and lunges for a rowdy seben groove, punctuated by exuberant, even brash, guitar flourishes. The guitar work is exuberant throughout this disc, which captures a magic moment when melodious, sensuous rumba guitar was champing at the bit to achieve rock and roll intensity.

"Amina," a Pepe Kalle composition, features Wemba's distinctive, slicing voice at the top of a high-flown vocal chorus. A 1980 song called "Loni," drops briefly into a 12/8 feel, before arriving at the seben, one of many Wemba nods to music of the Kasai here. Some of these tracks suffer from technical flaws, general fidelity, and even some minor speed variations, but the material transcends imperfections. We get the 1981 original of "Analengo," the song that would fuel Wemba's international emergence seven years later, also a rare duo performance with Wendo Kolosoy--the other "Papa." The latter songs on CD 1 start to take on a Paris shimmer, but remain very much in the guitar-driven, rumba rock mode.

CD 2 (1984-97) announces a major shift with the 1984 "Malimba," Wemba's first collaboration with a non-African, Belgian composer Hector Zazou. Cuban and Congo rhythms give way to a disco beat, and the brass section rejected by Zaiko Langa Langa family of bands is back. "Kitida" finds Wemba back in his familiar mode in a collegial collaboration with other Clan Langa Langa vocalists, but overall, the selections on CD 2 chart new directions. "M'balamuna" and "Jingle Amina" dig satisfyingly into folkloric Congolese chants, while "L'Esclave" highlights Wemba's quest for new pop formulas--in this case, starting a musical quote from Bob Marley's "Redemption Song," and resolving in a catchy refrain that runs through the whole song. This is just one example of Wemba, even in his Viva la Musica work, looking for ways to escape the sectional song form and other conventions almost slavishly followed by more conventional Congolese acts of that era.

Wemba's spectacular voice, and composing gifts shine everywhere, even though the selections on CD 2 do point the way to some of his less satisfying work to come. The downfall of so much Congo music in the '90s was the penchant for allowing electronics to replace living, breathing musicians, and Wemba at times, to quote a song here, became a "Victime de la Mode"--a victim of fashion. The song plays on Wemba's identity as a fashion guru, telling the story of a woman who asked God for all the clothes in the world, but wound up dead in the ground, like everyone else, but the title also applies (unintentionally) to the music.

As this long-overdue Wemba retrospective hits the streets, the man himself is in court, facing a possible prison sentence for his involvement in a visa scandal the Congolese call Affaire Ngulu. That story is unresolved, but no matter how it turns out, the music here leaves no doubt that the man is a giant and a gem of Congo's rich popular music. No judge can take that away from him!

Contributed by: Banning Eyre for www.afropop.org