"I Wanna Be Free"

Femi Kuti’s undying allegiance to his father’s legacy, in itself, is commendable. The son of one of Africa’s most influential 20^th century artists, Femi has been steadfast in realizing what his father never did – the global success of Afrobeat. Whereas Fela did as much as possible to not take part in the recording industry’s business – for example, never playing a song live after he recorded it, making it impossible for fans to hear “hits” live – Femi has attempted the opposite. That is, he’s gone to great lengths to seep his father’s blend of African ritual rhythms and Western-influenced jazz and funk into every category possible.

Femi cut his teeth playing alongside Fela in 80, starting his own Positive Force (the live band he still maintains) in ’86.  He snagged a deal with a Motown imprint that never caught much attention; Femi’s blessing is his curse, being the son of ’s beloved hero. When Fela passed in ’97, within months Femi dropped Shoki Shoki while MCA was re-releasing dozens of classic Fela concerts. The contrast was startling: Fela was known for super-extended jams where a song rarely registered under 10 minutes, while Femi was configuring Afrobeat into pop formats with straightforward hooks and choruses clocking in at four apiece. The soul of Afrobeat obviously inhabited Femi, but the grooves didn’t have enough time to develop.

When returning in 2001 with Fight to Win, Femi continued with shorter explorations of Afrobeat-inspired tunes. His cross-pollination took root with guest spots by rappers Mos Def and Common, both equally innovative in their respective genre. You could hear the development in Femi’s saxophone, a slightly polished version of his father’s schizophrenically abstruse, utterly beautiful solos. Fela engaged the spirit of African struggle in his music, tying social/political beliefs into song. The man was arrested over 200 times in his life, spending years imprisoned, starting his own compound (Kalakuta Republic) separate from the governing bodies of Lagos and married 27 women in one ceremony. Fela’s only tie seemed to be music – everything else seemed fleeting, so unnecessary to him. He played life exactly as the gods: a game to be engaged within, but not held onto.

By the sounds of Live at the Shrine, Femi has indeed found his voice. Recorded in March 2004, Live embodies the same magnificence his father created. While the songs are still shorter – few break the seven-minute mark – Femi says more with less. The rhythmic structures, as funky and soulful as attempted on his two studio recordings, shine with a stunning luster unavailable by the clean machines of click tracks. There’s something to be said for the chance of failure: during a live show risks are plentiful as there’s no second chance. This is what tries and tests the Best, and with Live at the Shrine we can safely say Femi has earned that title. 

An accompanying DVD enhances the experience with footage from the concert.  Not that the CD needed it – layer after layer of horns, keyboards, guitar, bass and a host of percussive accompaniment unfold through the hour. During the show Femi is surrounded by seemingly endless occupants inhabiting the same sonic space; proving philosophy by action, music to the Kuti family is a communal affair. The polyrhythmic rapidity of “Can’t Buy Me” – a song, as director Raphael Frydman’s watchful eye shows, was nearly omitted – is one of the highlights, as is the scorching, screaming “Shotan,” Nigerian slang for self-destructive anger. This is the plateau Femi often works from, offering Nigerians a direction from internal defeat by blaming external forces; this is how, as Fela put it, music becomes a weapon.

While his hyper hybrids are inspiring, Femi really catches his groove with midtempo swing. This is where the trance-like hypnotism sets in. The record’s opening set, including “Dem Bobo,” “I Wanna Be Free” and “If Them Want to Hear,” tone down the BPMs while allowing the sing-along hooks to take flight. Centered around personal and social liberation, the keyboard- and bass-led tracks find such solid grooves one’s hips are commanded to sway. 

There’s one moment of the film that sums up much. One back-up vocalist is speaking about Femi’s intense practice schedule while he plays in the background. Pictures intersperse of Lagos , Femi and the band, as you hear the heartbreakingly gorgeous intonations. She reveals how addicted to music this Prince is, performing in the bathroom, constantly, never stopping. Live at the Shrine not only affirms this claim, it gives the young warrior a freshly crafted crown to don, for the royal lineage lives on. 

Contributed to Afropop by Derek Beres.  And watch for Femi Kuti on tour in July, 2005!

July   6           Montreal, PQ               Metropolis

July   7           Toronto, ONT            The Opera House  

July   8           Ann Arbor, MI                    Ann Arbor Summer Festival

July   9           Chicago, IL                  Metro  

July   10           Milwaukee, WI                    Summerfest

July   12         S. Burlington, VT             Higher Ground

July   13           Northampton, MA   Pearl Street

July   14           Boston, MA                 Paradise Rock Club

July   15           Philadelphia, PA           Theatre of the Living Arts

July   16           Washington, DC           9:30 Club

July   17           New York, NY            Central Park Summerstage

July   20           Boulder, CO              Boulder Theater

July   22         Flagstaff, AZ               Orpheum

July   23         San Diego, CA           House of Blues

July   24           Los Angeles, CA           Hollywood Bowl

July   27           San Francisco, CA    The Fillmore

July   28         Eugene, OR                 The Jungle

July   29         Portland, OR              Wonder Ballroom

July   30         Seattle, WA                 Showbox

 

Contributed by: Derek Beres for www.afropop.org