Femi Kuti carries on, and expands, a family tradition
By Chris Nixon
FOR THE SAN DIEGO UNION-TRIBUNE
July 22, 2005
'Fe-la," "Fe-la."
Traffic is stopped on the crowded streets of Lagos, Nigeria. It's 1975, a time of political and social unrest. Musician and activist Fela Anikulapo-Kuti walks from his home to his nightclub, the Afrika Shrine. People stand on their cars to catch a glimpse of the man: small in stature but large in presence. Fela – rarely seen in more than just Speedo shorts – struts to his club, where his band, Afrika 70, will perform its high-octane African funk into the wee hours.
The crowd chants his name, over and over: "Fe-la," "Fe-la."
Much like the meaning of his name Anikulapo – "the one who holds death in his pouch" – Fela Kuti's musical and political vision lives beyond his time on Earth.
Today, 30 years later, Fela's son walks in his footsteps. Much like his dad, Femi Kuti rails against oppressive governments. He blows his sax sweet and hard, like an African Maceo Parker setting forth an inferno of pelvic thrusts and gyrating, sweaty bodies. And he plays a funkified form of African music created by his father: Afrobeat.
Melding the joyous prolonged sounds of African high-life music with the down-dirty grit of James Brown and the Horny Horns, Fela created politically charged music. Femi Kuti has taken the mantle laid down by his father when he passed away in 1998 (from AIDS complications), moving Afrobeat into the modern era.
But it's not easy to fill the shoes of a man who was practically worshipped as a god in his homeland of Nigeria.
Femi seems comfortable with the comparisons: "It is a thing that is natural and a great honor for me," says the prodigal son recently. "But my music I feel now stands by itself."
Emerging from his father's shadow, Femi's music and message deserve to stand on their own. His two studio releases – "Shoki Shoki" in 1999 and 2001's "Fight to Win" – paint a picture of a man struggling with abject poverty and a corrupt government.
Much to Femi's chagrin, the plight of Nigerians has not improved much since the days of Fela Kuti. Mixing traditional Afrobeat funk with electronic beats and a touch of hip-hop, Femi's music uses songs as a podium to inform the world. Femi tries to raise consciousness of everyday trials and tribulations in Nigeria with every note.
Since his father's death, Femi has rebuilt Fela's Afrika Shrine in the Nigerian capital of Lagos. Part music venue and part community center, the Shrine also serves as Femi's home when he's not on tour. He holds weekly jam sessions called "Sunday Jumps," where Nigerians gather and dance away their daily strife.
In a combo DVD and live CD release titled "Live at the Shrine" released this year, Femi allows cameras into his life, giving a tour of the Shrine along with combined footage from a series of electric live shows at the venue. Complete with a full horn section, a troop of African dancers and a legion of musicians, Femi's band plays an epic set of his Afrobeat tunes in the 87-minute documentary.
"In the Shrine in Lagos, everyone knows my music and comes week after week," Kuti says. "But audiences everywhere are getting to know the music now also."
Whether in Lagos or at San Diego's new House of Blues, where Femi and his band will perform Saturday, audiences come away from a Kuti show with an evening of dancing and plenty of food for thought.
"I want people to have a good time but to also think about the message," Kuti muses.
Like the opening words by Kuti on "Live at the Shrine," the House of Blues crowd can expect a dance-happy, politically infused performance from Femi and his large African orchestra: "We are here to make you happy and give you all the good music you deserve."
Chris Nixon is a San Diego music writer.
