Zombie (1977)
4 tracks, 54 minutes (2001 remastered CD verison)
Spotify • iTunes
1977 is the year of punk, but I’d say that Zombie was angrier, harder-hitting and more impactful than any album coming out of that scene in the UK that year.
Fela Kuti is the eternal king of Afrobeat. He created it, and the style has never managed to step out of his shadow after all these years. It’s an intoxicating mix of Yoruba and Afro-Latin rhythms, grooves that find a mid-point between highlife music and the deepest funk and melodies taken from Yoruba traditions, soul and jazz. Most importantly, the very best Afrobeat – Fela’s speciality – is profoundly political.
The title track is the most memorable one here, a true masterpiece. It starts with more than five minutes of instrumental introduction, slowly building up an infectious groove piece-by-piece and introducing wailing solos from Fela on his sax and Tunde Williams on trumpet. If the piece was just this introduction, it would be brilliant just for that. But it carries on into an acidic attack on the military and soldiers’ unwavering obedience, not just in the face of senseless instructions but also senseless politics. The lyrics are on point:
Zombie no go go, unless you tell am to go
Zombie no go stop, unless you tell am to stop
Zombie no go turn, unless you tell am to turn
Zombie no go think, unless you tell am to think
From about 7:10, it all comes together. There are so many rhythms going on, from the percussion and the drums to the guitars, the horns, Fela’s drill sergeant instructions and the chorus, all playing different rhythms in different cycles creating a hell of a polyrhythm. It’s so much and it’s hypnotic. It ends with a breakdown and another excellent sax solo, unaccompanied this time, with Fela’s typical honking style, leading into a fireworks fanfare. It’s a powerful way to end a track.
Zombie’s influence was felt strongly at the time. It galvanised protestors in Nigeria and across Africa, but also led to severe push-back. The government cracked down on Fela’s compound, his declared independent Kalakuta Republic, which led to its destruction, beatings to Fela and the death of his elderly mother. The album, the song and the vicious reprisals led to riots on multiple occasions. People make angry music all over the world, and 1977 was a hell of a year for it. Punk’s influence is still felt on music today, but when it comes to real stakes and political repercussions, I reckon Fela pipped them all.
No comments:
Post a Comment