MUSIC (Classic, Congolese): Tabu Ley's Christine

The video we have here is a re-release of an old song from the last millennium by maestro Rochereau as a 21st century #LingalaPop clip. It is widely known even by today's fans that Rochereau later assumed the more 'authentic' name of Tabu Ley, in a Congo which, in an orgy of renaming -- of people and places, and a country -- had chosen to call itself Zaire, 'under the influence' of Mobutu Sese Seko. And it is as Tabu Ley that he features in the video, as singer and dancer and more.

Click to watch the video

Tabu Ley introduces the song himself. We can't wait for the song to start. And then we see it, an old song from the sixties in a new HD light -- with a redefinition of 'contemporary' dance moves, and with dancers in sort of new-age clothes. And still all ballad and all melody -- fine, fine melody! A second coming!

But the original version of the song exists still. And it is exactly the same as the new. Except that, truer to its age and times, it is in audio. And so nobody's dancing, and no one's there to show off fancy things. All sound and neither flow nor frenzy nor fury of bodies in motion, then. Everything is vocal and so instrumental, and everything is left to the discerning ear and to the imagination -- and so so enveloping.

Click here for the original audio version of Christina

READ: A brief on Tabu Ley's early life

READ: More on Tabu Ley's life-story

Nedy Music and Christian Bella, Two Soul Brothers, in a Classic Plea ~ "Rudi"

Rudi is all about heart-wrenching separation, followed by a man's desperate plea for forgiveness from his girl. It is a plea earnestly vouched for by a soul brother. There are no qualms here about pouring one's heart out -- as things have gone truly elephant, we reckon. All that macho stuff about keeping deeply felt feelings, certainly of love and 'loss', under wraps -- all that is out the window. Rudi is thus in many ways a sweepingly romantic narrative -- even if the hard-core of the vexing issues is not addressed, even obliquely. 

The air is full of melody, with (and in) this song. Melody fuses in an endearingly mellow fashion with the harmony of well-toned voices and refined instrumental play to deliver a truly rich aural gift. The words are well-chosen; and the lines, as the ear receives them, are superbly crafted. They project a sincerity which -- if other facts of the contentious case (the source of all the trouble that has thankfully given rise to this beautiful song) are in balance -- should tip the verdict in favor of the "crier", and give us a happy, happy ending.

Franco Luambo Makiadi's Libala

Epic. Majestic. A Tour de Force.



Click to listen to the audio of the song. There is no video

MUSIC (Classic): Kapwepwe by M'Pongo Love

At the end of November 2015, I published a post on one of M'Pongo Love's most memorable songs, Ndaya. And I inserted an image/link there to another of  her great creations -- Kapwepwe. On July 17 this year, I tweeted two Youtube links to the respective songs, just to share my appreciation of them.

Since that November post, I have continued to feel a sense of guilt; a sense of disproportionate attention to two wonderful things. I felt that I simply had not paid Kapwepwe the attention that it deserved as a moving musical feat -- and feast of the spirit. It's a stand-out light in its own right, radiant in its own glow. A Time bender.

In several ways, Ndaya and Kapwepwe represent, nay invoke, different kinds of engagement. The one is more sonorous, more introspective; the other less pensive and more upbeat. Sunnier. More of a call, with a rousing beat (by Orch. Les Ya Toupas), to the ever receptive dance floor -- a floor so hopelessly intertwined with the days of our youth. Yes, more about the moment than about connections. 

Both songs are veritable classics. They are intrinsic to baby-boomer remembrances in and of Eastern and Central Sub-Sahara. They are an enduring part of our fond past. 

Alas, for all that flourish, for me the recorded song, Kapwepwe, ends abruptly at 2:35 minutes -- just as we're getting comfortable in our flight of fancy -- though it runs, inexplicably, for another 2:47. If there is any unifying theme in the two halves, it is that they both start with the very same beat, which, to the inattentive ear, is practically over before it even registers in the ear. Still, one is left with the sense that the tune -- that some kind of tune -- lingers somewhere in there in the second half. So that there is a hint of unity in that palpable difference.

Kapwepwe, thus, is, truly, a tale of two musical territories with a jagged borderland one wishes one didn't have to cross. Territories which, like DRC and Zambia, have staked claims to this meme, with all the intrigue worthy of Byzantium. Still...


Here's Kapwepwe:

READ: Simon Mwansa Kapwepwe.











Blog Post updated August 10, 2016

Africa's Happiest Songs of The Year: Introduction and Selection Criteria ~ #TheYamboSelection

The material that appears below is a somewhat revised and 'domesticated' version of  the one released earlier in connection with Africa's Top 40 Pop songs of 2015. The present focus is on The Happiest Songs of 2015

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This is the second annual edition of #TheYamboSelection, presenting the full list of Africa's Happiest Songs of 2015. The same criteria are used this year (January to December 2015) as were used last year to select and rank, out of the songs released or published during the year, those that project and/or elicit the highest quotient of happiness in the listener/audience.  

As before, the focus in this series of lists is the song, not the singer, with the added requirement that only songs in video form qualify. In addition, the song must broadly fit the standard definition of popular (or pop) music; that is, music in any of these distinct genres, or any combination of them: Benga, Blues, Bongo Flava, Hip Hop, Kwaito, RnB, Rap, Reggae, Rock or Soul. We are not dealing here with gospel, classical  or traditional music; although borderline cases or creative partial 'fusions' with them will always be considered. 

Several segments of the Happiest Songs -- specifically Top 5, Top 10 and Top 25 -- will be separately released for quick reference, and (for whatever it's worth) in order to focus attention on them and permit longitudinal and other comparisons.  But, as we start browsing and clicking, let's remember that Top 10 is hallowed space. Only the best songs (or in this case the happiest songs) should populate it, in proper order, regardless of country or sex or language or ethnic identity or religion, or race; and here they do. 

In 'happiest songs' we include only those in which the singers have made patently creative use of those elements that characterize all music (of which pop is an integral part) in order to give them (the songs) superior appeal to the average or accomplished ear. These elements are: Tone, melody, harmony, beat, rhythm, audibility, tempo, and the visual impact. In addition, however, the happiness factor must come into play, in order to reflect how the song reaches the generalized ear, and how the hearer responds to it.

Pop music is 'popular' in the sense that it resonates with large publics, in their present (or day-to-day, or contemporary) circumstances. If not pop, it is traditional in orientation, and thus locked in, and into, the past; though some of these may eventually acquire the revered status of classics. Over time, it is important to realize, too, day-to-day begins inexorably to provide a break with what we may call the past. This is distinctly the case in multicultural environments, or the 'melting pots' of  deep-urban localities.

As already pointed out, #TheYamboSelection rates only music videos. The point here is that an artist who does not release the video version of a song is simply not ready for big time with that song. Fans nowadays want to see what's going on with the artiste and his or her 'band' while the song is sung. Today's pop scene, it seems obvious, is inescapably audio-visual. Sound quality matters exceedingly, and so does the quality of the visual dimension. And let's not forget that the production of a video is a cooperative venture between the artiste(s) and the video director/producer. The latter do deserve credit too when things go really right.

Success demands that the audio-visual challenge be simultaneously attacked from two perspectives: (a) From the performance perspective, the artiste's obligation is to produce the vocals, the lyrics and the dance or 'stage' routines (the 'body language') that together signify, accentuate or enhance his or her persona in the eyes and ears of the fans. (b) From the recording perspective, both the sounds (in all their permutations and combinations) and the visuals are technically the responsibility of the cinematographer and/or the video director/producer.

The artiste must therefore choose very carefully, and it costs a tidy sum to commit the people who can produce a video of high technical and artistic quality. Indeed, as directors such as Clarence Peters, Justin Campos, MattMax, C.A.R.D.O.S.O and Moe Musa know -- and as those who know their work do too -- the task of directing/producing a winning music video is not merely a technical challenge but a demanding creative-artistic one as well. This does of course rope in the actors, the artistes, as everything visual converges on the set. Certainly, the dancing and other forms of acting must be well choreographed for the camera and synchronized with the song, even if the sound of a particular single or track comes to the set pre-recorded.

The naming of more than one hit inevitably prompts the question as to which hit comes first, and which next or last. Sometimes, all too often perhaps, there are ties which must be broken and songs which must thus, regrettably, be excluded. The more valued the list, the greater the regret all around.

In selecting and ranking Africa's Happiest Songs -- limited to Sub-Sahara as already indicated -- the following six criteria (each on a scale of 1 - 5, with 5 being the highest score) have served as a guide (and thus an otherwise altogether qualitative proposition is tempered with a known procedure):

1. The creative appeal and musicality of the voice asset.
2. The choice and mastery of the musical instruments in play.
3. The poetic form and content of the lyrics.
4. The artistic and aesthetic depth of the video component.
5. The synchronic or choreographic quality of the audio-visual
product, in terms of: harmony, tone, melody, rhythm, beat and color (dis)play.
6. Based on the foregoing, how happy the entire single/track, from beginning to end, makes me feel: about it, about me, about the moment -- and, for the time being, about "things" or life. This criterion also serves as a qualitative tie-breaker; that is, a virtual 'casting vote' whenever any other criteria yield a quantitative tie.

In addition to the six criteria, the maximum number of listed titles under which an artist may be indicated as the lead singer in a given year is firmly restricted to three; but there is no limit to the number of times an artist may feature or make cameo appearances in listed songs or videos.

Updated: January 19, 2016

MUSIC: Wangu by Donald and Diamond Platnumz

Wangu, released in July 2015, is super cool music by two of Africa's leading artistes, Donald and Diamond Platnumz. The two are like brothers. Like twins almost.

Really nice to hear, and to watch, this song. The beat's evergreen. The dance moves are a delight. This tastefully produced piece is surely going to be everyone's favorite. A classic in the making, then.

The bar goes higher and higher.

Wangu's mine!

MUSIC (Classic): M'Pongo Love's "Ndaya"

When did anyone on social media last, or ever, hear M'Pongo Love sing, folks? To all those who've never heard her unforgettable voice, here's a hint of what used to go down -- suavely, all so often -- in a bygone time. With a little swag, perhaps.  A golden time before (today's) time. A form of life, before life.

It's not just the vocals that are lovely. As always with Congolese music, it's the blend and the flourish of instrumentation, too. The saxophone and the guitar, in particular.

Here, in Ndaya (somewhat) reloaded, M'Pongo Love sings earnestly, with an innocent's voice, She sings in passionate, undaunted tones of her one love; and of the victory (sure to come), against all public and private odds, of her all-consuming marriage. I hear more yearning, than certain Love. It all sounds (certainly now) a little like optimistic personal testimony, but she is, was (always will be), a socially-constructed diva; a songstress widely admired -- and loved for being loved. Loved, even, for being Love itself/herself. The greater the admiration of her found, perhaps, the farther away one was from Kinshasa, or Kisangani, or wherever else in the Congo she might happen (or be supposed) to be, moment by musical moment. That's how the magical, magnetic, pull of her sort works -- and worked with so much effect in those days of her popular reign, in the era of the radio.

The cities farthest away from her mystified abode -- African cities outside of the Congo (where Lingala, music's language itself,  reigned with a blend of near absolutism and dazing, dazzling 'benevolence') -- were the places she had her most ardent admirers, I suppose. And the most intense of these were perhaps the anti-clockwork cities of Nairobi and Dar-Es-Salaam, to the east. All the guys I know that knew 'er voice loved 'er. But she didn't reign alone, being a member of a royal 'clan' of artistes who found themselves, somewhere there beyond a zillion trees of the great rain-forest, inescapably at the heart of something; of a genre. The very heart of what Conrad mistakenly called Darkness.

Ndaya is a lovely proclamation of everlasting love. Deeply felt love. Love felt despite, and even because of, a vexing tide of doubt and gossip and malevolence. A love -- enigmatic, precarious love -- dependent so entirely on The (very) One loved! We can toast to that -- mystery.

PS: YouTube has considerable chatter about this song. Read it and be informed. YouTube views of this song currently stand at 131,830.

PPS: Here, as a 'bonus' offering, is Kapwepwe, another great song by M'Pongo Love:

MUSIC: Dr. Nico Kassanda's Enduring Classic, "Mokili Ya Nzambe"

Just sit back and savor this awe-inspiring musical performance, this symphonic melody of a track, by legendary Dr, Nico Kassanda. He, who's a fine reminder of the people who peopled our pasts -- and who glorify who we once were and still are, as Time flies -- and of "places" we've been to, where there were no videos and no selfies, and should re-member. This enduring classic. This Mokili Ya Nzambe.

It really does transport you back in time, and brings you right back. And back again. And then back and back.

A wonderful, orchestral serving of sound, with (did you hear that?) nearly 90 seconds of pure, uninterrupted stringplay. That's nearly a third of the whole piece! Truly enriching. Gilded days, is what I remember.They plainly don't make 'em like this no more. And so one must surely find a pedestal for this lilting artefact -- this rare aural vase.


Click here to listen to the audio

[No videos then: So, only 154,242 views (as of now), all these years!]

Kanda Bongo Man's "Muchana": The Makings of a Classic

Watch: Video of Kanda Bongoman's Muchana

Yesterday (May 26th) evening, as I drove and listened to Nairobi's Classic 105, Larry Asego, the 'DJ' of the hour, played Kanda Bongo Man's single titled Muchana, which was released as a video in 2012, if my source is correct. It brought back many memories of what Kanda Bongo Man meant to a certain generation of us. A caller endorsed Asego's comment that if one wasn't moved by the guitarist's solo moment in Muchana, then one needed to have the ears checked. I silently concurred, behind the wheel.

That radio-play has prompted the lines that follow.

Kanda is a much-adulated Congolese/Zairean musician in large swathes of East Africa -- Kenya, Uganda and Tanzania. He is particularly fondly regarded as a versatile singer with awesome dance routines by those who came of age (I won't define coming-of-age) in the Seventies and Eighties. But his reputation began to fade, at first imperceptibly, with the coming of the video -- and then, specifically, video music. It's a fate that has befallen most of his great compatriots, certainly in the countries I have mentioned.

It can be said in retrospect that Congolese musicians of Kanda's age, and those who shone earlier than he did and probably served, at least  remotely, as his sounding-boards -- titans such as Franco (a.k.a. Luambo Luanzo Makiadi), Tabu Ley (Rochereau), Bozi Boziana (with his lovely troupe), Pepe Kalle (with his two 'faces' -- here's the other), Papa Wemba; and the leading divas: Mbilia Bel and Tshala Muana -- were tutored on audio recording and live performance, on some sort of stage that was invariably set on minimalist principles. Kanda was something of an exception, to be sure, with his stylish (to the older ones perhaps rebellious and precocious) dress-code. In general, one can say that older Congolese musicians were never -- or, more accurately, never became -- adept at the nuances of show which video music came increasingly to demand of the lead singer and the instrumentalist and the bit players.

With the video, a fusion of sight and sound rather quickly became the defining feature of popular music -- the very genre (let's call it Lingala Pop) which the Congolese certainly assumed their fans would forever associate them with. Sight required a choreography of colorfully dressed and agile bodies -- bodies dressed more modishly, if not more minimally as well, than in the not-so-distant heyday of Congolese music, when Lingala and music meant the same thing.

Kanda could be most of that, and indeed was (to some still is) something of a Johnny-come-lately dandy. So was/is the irrepressible Awilo Longomba, and some of the younger artistes. But many veterans began quickly to look like veterans in fading garbs -- and to lose their appeal and fans across the region.

But even for impresarios like Kanda, the fact that the musician (at one with his/her band) was not the master of all his/her set, or stage, or 'production' became more and more obvious with the rapid evolution of the music video, incorporating the increased 'equalization' of audio and video components of the totality of a single, or an LP.

I am trying to say here that a good music video now requires (has indeed to some degree always required) for its artistic and commercial success a certain mix of things: the well-endowed if less glamorous contribution of the producer, the director, the set designer and the camera woman or man. In all of Africa, the Nigerian music industry -- representing a highly competitive market segment, energized by a huge consumer base, and lodged in a culture where highly-charged 'theatrical performance' is deep-rooted -- has been the most successful in cracking this 'code', since circa 2013-2014. That is to say, it stands out as a country with the entrepreneurial and material resources, and audience-base, required to monetize it. Other countries will follow.

Earlier yesterday, I'd had a sort of interior monologue about what constitutes a classic, and how 'hits' morph into what we loosely or strictly call classics. In brief, we can say (it is widely known, for sure) that, in pop music, the hit that tops the chart(s) in the first week of the year is not necessarily the hit of the second week or the month, though it might be. The first month's hit is not necessarily going to be the hit of the quarter or the half-year, but it just might be. The hit of the half-year may or may not be the hit of the year. One year's chart-topper is highly unlikely to be the next year's. Today's fans, for whom last year is by definition passe, just want to celebrate something newly 'dropped' -- something of this year -- which conveys a sense of now and, therefore (certainly implicitly), of temporal movement. 

But underlying this 'tradition of the new', this fixation on the 'here today, gone tomorrow' moment, is a deeper interest, as one grows older, in enduring 'likes' (that is, in what we have widely favored in the past and still like, and like to like still); in, as we say in Kiswahili, Zilipendwa (or Zilizopendwa). Likes we can grow with and pass on from our cohort to the one after us, and then from one generation to the next, on and on as time flies, are what we, all of us, come to know as classics.

Kanda Bongoman's Muchana is certainly on the way to becoming an African classic, of the audio kind. The visuals aren't so hot, as I have been suggesting, and could perhaps be tastefully remixed.

'Kanda the Dandy' is hardly to be seen in Muchana. It's as though he wanted inexplicably but temporarily to appear here under the cover of drabness, in a visually drab video. The gals, though, are fine and supple -- as fine and supple as can be. As if to reclaim the sapeur tradition in which he was born, and of which he is obviously proud, he resurfaces, an all-in peacock with a surprising twist, in Sweet.

It will be said in the days to come, I imagine, that straight out of the "Heart of Darkness," sapeurism, a sartorial classic in its own right, as supremely confident of its body language and ingenuity as of its view of the world, its weltanschauung, was able to create a classic or two, and then a fistful, in another genre -- music -- which it offered to a skeptical world not quite ready to grasp the connections. [A video of Congo Brazzaville Sapeurs here]


Here, a crisply produced video of Muchana Lyrics 


NOTE: Last paragraph added on May 31, 2015. Some editing done on October 10, 2017. Link to the Lyrics added on May 5, 2019.