When I first received notice of a Felabration taking place in Amsterdam last year, celebrating the life and work of the near-mythical Nigerian musician Fela Kuti (1938-1997), I couldn't help but feel a bit uneasy. As a musicology student a few years back, I was already quite taken by his music and background, so I should have been pumped to be among a great bunch of likeminded Fela-enthusiasts, right? Far from it, I felt inexplicably detached from the event and I stayed at home. With the 2nd annual edition coming up, I keep pondering the distance between myself and the 2nd annual Felabration. Here are some of my loose, cutting-corners, never-mind-the-bollocks thoughts on the subject:
To my mind, the key question to ask here is: What do we really celebrate when we celebrate Fela’s life and works? When we ‘bring The Shine (Fela’s infamous Lagos nightclub and residence) to Mokum (Amsterdam)’ as the organisers of next month’s glorious Felabration 2 say?
Well, there is a lot to celebrate: Fela’s works as a freedom fighter and humanitarian in the face of persecution put him near the top of the list of inspiring leaders in post-colonial Africa. The creation of ‘his’ Afrobeat music was a groundbreaking effort in the synthesis of Westernised African heritage such as jazz and funk and the indigenous Yoruba and Highlife musical styles which left its mark on musicians and audiences across the African continent and well beyond.
Even as his music spread across the globe, Kuti retained an air of exoticism and mystery about him. His values and manners were untouched by the Western world throughout his career. He took his immense retinue of musicians, caretakers and wives (he had twenty-seven (!)) with him wherever he went, putting great pressure on accomodation and hospitality with their homegrown habits. Part of the myth of Fela Kuti is the fact that above all, he remained true to his (Nigerian) Yoruba roots despite the lure of Western civilisation. Het is a symbol for many, be it as the rebel, the musician or the human rights activist, and as such, it’s not hard to see what Fela Kuti could be celebrated for.
I say could, because to my mind the intentions of this celebration are not completely obvious. I would like to propose here that an event such as Felabration, for all its good intentions and sincere convictions, is as much a celebration of the tradition that was created around Afrobeat (or African music in general, for that matter) in Amsterdam (and Western Europe in general) as it is about what actually went on at the Kalakuta Republic, the ‘Shrine’ the organisers speak of.
With the rise of World Music as a commercialy interesting phenomenon for Western audiences in the late 80s, a process was put in motion that can only be explained as a massive displacement of meaning in these musics. Large record labels were eager to compile and distribute large amounts of indigenous musics from around the globe (especially from South-America, Africa and the Carribean) to cater to an increasing Western audience. This audience warmed its ears to music that was a little bit different, a little more exotic than what they were used to. This is to this date the way most average listerners approach these musics, whether it’s Buena Vista Social Club, Amadou & Mariam, Youssou N’dour, or Fela Kuti: as music that pleases them because of it’s exotic properties. rhythm, instrumentation or language: similar to our own, but not quite the same.
It’s for the same reason that Middle-Eastern and some Asian musics are far less popular in the Western World - music that is created in a different tonal system is still a little far-fetched for the average listeners. I will not go into a lengthy discussion on music and cultural imperialism in colonialist Africa (did I hear a snore?), but it is a fact that music from regions that we’ve thought our own tonal systems is far more appealing to Western audiences than the music from regions in the world that were less touched by the cultural endeavours of our ancestors. I’m not trying to pass judgement here, just putting it out there.
Now as most musicologists learn in their first year of studies, music is in most cases nót just pleasing to the ear. Music has many layers of meaning embedded in itself. We talk not just of the soundbytes itself when we talk about music; we talk about the culture it was created in, we talk about traditions and rituals that music is embedded in, we talk about the places and the means by which we experience it, we talk about the values of the musicians and the way the audience responds to it. It is at this point Western listeners are still struggling to keep up with the plot, especially when World Music is concerned.
It’s hard to tell exactly why we care so little for the circumstances that originate the music we all listen to. Especially in recent years, music has become such a commodity that, admittedly, there is just too much music going on to bother with the background story. But then again, most people would not make an effort to put together an official celebration for a single artist (fanclub meetings don’t count). When the idea sparks to celebrate such a singularity, such an otherworldly phenomenon (especially to Western audiences) as Fela Kuti, than He must be part of the cultural 1% (which is ironic, Fela being the archetyplal frontrunner for the 1970s version of “the 99 percent”) one of the happy few we do care hear about, to immerse ourselves in the life and times of this Great Musician.
Is it, really? One of the prime progenitors of these festivities is Jungle By Night, a very young and hot Amsterdam-born-and-bred 9-piece that takes a fair few cues from Fela and Afrobeat. But, as they’ve stated so many types for fear of stereotyping, they’re “not just an Afrobeat band”. On their first album, they take influences from jazz to hiphop to Indonesian Gamelan, but still they slyly position themselves as leaders of a Dutch Afrobeat movement. They’ve als commented many times that they do not share Fela’s political views or put the same kind of social commentary in their own musical output. The event is further managed by their label and their manager.
Given, it’s hard to express any social commentary as an instrumental ensemble. And anyone should be awarded for making their own music, instead of just copying existing music. You could be forgiven for thinking they’re the ‘evolution of Afrobeat’ as mr. Tony Allen (the long-time backbone of Kuti’s band Egypt 80) once said, cause you wouldn’t be wrong. But when you go to such great lengths to celebrate the creator for Afrobeat, you’d better do it for the right reasons.
So I dare to ask: Will Felabration 2 really be a night to remember Fela for his contributions to the world? A memorial as much as a celebration? I’ll grant the organisation the benefit of the doubt. But of the audience I’m not so sure. I have a hard time believing that on October 12th 1500 people will indeed pay tribute to Fela Kuti. Or that people will even be aware that there’s more to this music than the way it makes you move as they walk into the Paradiso. Some of the most inspiring stories in modern music probably never even reached most of the fans of Jungle By Night, despite their best efforts.
Well, all I can say is, there’s more to this event than an awesome, sweaty party at the Paradiso. And it’s not up to Jungle By Night or the organisers or even Tony Allen to live up to the true potential of this event. It’s up to you, whether you’re going or not, to know about Fela Kuti, and not just his showtunes.
His Wikipedia page is quite the pageturner. So get acquainted. Here’s the link to the event
You're welcome,
J.
