(You can purchase Aster Aweke's Fikir and Aster's Ballads, as well as other hard to find Ethiopian music at www.aitrecords.com.)
This review comes late, but it was such a rewarding discovery to realize that superb work from Ethiopia’s worldliest diva has been hiding in plain sight for four years that I just had to backtrack. Aster Aweke became a player in the rise of afropop music (and Afropop Worldwide) in the late ‘80s when she was the toast of Washington D.C.’s Ethiopian community, just blocks from where our radio program was conceived and born. In the days before the encyclopedic, twenty-odd volume Ethiopiques CD series, Aweke—with her lashing, fluttering, crying, howling, and when she wished, soothing voice—was the sound of Ethiopia for many Americans first turning an ear to Africa. Her albums Aster (1989) and Kabu (1991) were pillars—must-own titles in the early days of afropop awareness in America.
The year Kabu was released, Ethiopia’s long military regime ended after 18 years, and the heel that had squelched the country’s performance arts scene finally began to lift. Aweke started returning home to perform, and she traveled the world to entertain Ethiopia’s far-flung diaspora communities. Meanwhile, floods of amazing African music inundated the international market, and Aweke seemed to vanish. She did more performing that recording during these years, but at some point, she began producing titles for the Ethiopian market on her own Kabu Records label. Aster’s Ballads (2004) and Fikir (2006) were both recorded in the DC area under the direction of maestro and producer Abegasu Shiota. Both sessions make it eminently clear that Aweke retains her stunning voice and her gift for making even the most sophisticated pop hook powerfully felt by all.
Unfortunately, the production style on Fikir is disappointing. Spare to a fault, and heavily electronic, it mostly sells great songs and vocal performances far short. To ears accustomed to the rich, African productions coming out of London, Paris, New York, Dakar, Bamako and Joburg these days, this set sounds more like a demo tape than finished work. Fikir reflects the aesthetics of today’s Ethiopian pop, and without being condescending, let’s just say it fails to translate to a wider audience the way Aster and Kabu did in their day.
This is what makes the Ballads release such an exquisite discovery. As the title suggests, the release focuses on the slower, more introspective side of Aweke’s repertoire. If you’re thinking slow = unexciting, think again. These are some of the most compelling vocal performances heard in years, and backed by a full band with brass section, and set to inventive, lively arrangements by Shiota, these twelve tracks put Aweke squarely back in the international game.
“Munayë Munayë” exploits the 1970s Ethio-jazz sound. It’s a bebop waltz with strong, open voicings on piano, and breathy, philosophical tenor sax commentary, a very classy setting for Aweke’s lyrically elastic vocal. “Besebara Follë” works with a full brass section to back one of the album’s most stunning vocal performances. Aweke goes over the top here, reaching high for ornamented melodies as her voice cracks expertly to convey both sadness and strength. “Yekosin Bahirzaf,” with guitars laying in subtle R&B funk overtones, plays as a tuneful jazz lullaby. Aweke’s arresting vocal performances may inspire longing for lyric translations (alas, not provided here), but at the same time, they transcend that need by communicating such visceral and transparent emotions. Heartbreak tempered by experience and wisdom, an almost ecstatic cry of longing, dry-eyed bluesiness—such are the paradoxical associations these complex, subtle, and winning vocal flights inspire.
Aweke herself composed all twelve of these songs, and purely from the stand point of melody, they are excellent. She favors variants on 6/8 and 12/8 time, and also slower tempos. “Hoho Gela” elegantly plays the jazz waltz feeling against an underlying 4/4 swing. But such rhythmic sophistication is mostly underplayed in this set, keeping the focus on melody and vocal. The final track, “Eshururu,” changes the mood with joyful, brassy Ethio-reggae. It is the exclamation point that ends a near flawless album. Aweke is clearly overdue for another star turn in the international spotlight, for she is quite simply one of the greatest African singers alive.
"Basebara Follė"
(You can purchase Aster Aweke's 