Les Officiers of African Music were a "super-group" formed in the 1980s by Congolese musicians (mainly from the Brazzaville side of the river) in Paris, notably Tchico Tchicaya, Passi-Jo, Ballou Canta and Nianzi Gaulard, "L'Amiral Cheri-Gau," the star of today's offering, Conspiration (Savas SA 30.0048).
There's not much to say about this one except it's a primo example of mid-'80s Congo rumba at its best. Enjoy!
A while back I posted about northern Nigeria's greatest female singer, Barmani Mai Choge. I devote today's post to Alhaji Mamman Shata, acclaimed as the greatest male singer of "Arewa," a giant who ruled the Hausa music scene for over 60 years.
Finding out more information about Dr. Mamman Shata has not been easy. He is the subject of at least one biography, "Shata Ikon Allah!" by Ibrahim Sheme (Kaduna, Infomart Publishers, 2006), and at least one doctoral dissertation, “The Role of an Oral Singer in Hausa/Fulani Society: A Case Study of Mamman Shata," by Dr. Abdulkadir Dandatti (Folklore Institute, Indiana University, 1975), neither of which I've been able to get hold of. There does seem to be a fair amount of information about him online in Hausa.
Shata was born in Rugar Kusa, Musawa Village, Northern Nigeria in 1922. Although his father disapproved of his interest in music, he began singing at the age of 13 and was soon composing his own Wakokin, traditional Hausa praise songs. He was accompanied by musicians playing kalungu, small talking drums, and travelled throughout the north of Nigeria gaining fame if not yet fortune. He once told an interviewer, “I ventured into music out of childish exuberance. I didn’t inherit it from either of my parents. I sang for a long time without collecting a penny. Even when I was given money, other praise singers collected it. I only started collecting money when I made it (music) a career." He settled down in Funtua, also the home of Barmani Mai Choge, a wild and wooly municipality that hosted many brothels. Chafing at the strictures of conservative Hausa Muslim society, he had a taste for drink and sang its praises.
It is said that Mamman Shata never rehearsed and composed his songs on the spot. I've been unable to track down much of his discography and I suspect most of his music was never pressed but recorded for broadcast. Probably much of it was not recorded at all. In addition to praise songs, his repertoire covered all manner of subjects, from agriculture to politics to the military, even food! One notable song is said to have been broadcast throughout northern Nigeria during the troubles of 1966-67 preaching peace, tolerance and national unity. He performed throughout West Africa and even made it to Britain and the United States.
Alhaji Doctor Mamman Shata passed away on June 18, 1999, leaving behind three wives, 22 children, numerous grandchildren and an immortal musical legacy. The true voice of Arewa!
Here are two cassettes by the immortal Mamman Shata.
The cassette Bakandamiyar (EMI Nigeria EMI 003), which I obtained during a visit to Kano in 1995, is a dub of a scratchy LP recorded, I suspect, some time in the '70s or earlier. I would guess the song "Garba Bichi" is in honor of Abubakar Ali Bichi, who was a prominent Northern Nigerian businessman born in 1924. There is a Garba Bichi Ahmed (possibly his son?) who is a member of the Nigerian Federal House of Representatives from Bichi, Kano State, but since he was born in 1964, it's probably not about him:
"Bakandamiyar"is considered one of Maman Shata's greatest songs. In it he sings his own praises:
I started Bakandamiya and embraced the thing that interests me most Alo, Alo, the singer expresses his gratitude and so do the chorus. As for me nothing interests me except my singing,
Beat your drum carefully, Play slowly and carefully, For drumming is your inheritance but not mine. I started singing as a hobby, Certainly I started it as a hobby and outshined the professionals; Now it is my match that they search for and have woefully failed, Alo, Alo, the singer expresses his gratitude and so do the chorus. It is not parting with a hero that is painful, But filling the gap which he created.... ...One day here in the city of Dabo, I have ever lived in the city of Dabo, During the reign of Sanusi Mamman, Burhan father of Habu son of Abdu, Then I packed my belongings and left, And returned to the city of Dikko, Our Katsina, the city of Shehu.
My departure pleased the Kano singers; They ganged up against me saying: That bastard Shata has gone, Good riddance Shata has left, Ha! Since he left the city of Dabo, No doubt has lost many good things. Go your way; I am aware I missed Kano City, And Kano too had missed a famous singer, And you also had missed my singing.
After six good months I staged a comeback, I went away for six months, And returned to the city of Dabo, On Friday during the princess’s wedding, I sneaked in with my mini car, I took a corner and parked my mini car, I put on a veil and joined the crowd.....
.....I pondered and groaned, There and then I uncovered myself, And said, You have now felt the absence of Shata, the singer. Even among kola nuts there are marsa, Well much more so among the singers, Princes, I hope and think that you will lend me your ears, And listen to my song. It is not parting with the hero that is painful, But filling the gap which he created....
......That day I rose and praised myself, And praised God and his Messenger, That day I outshined Hamisu, outwitted Caji and put Dabolo out of action, They cast a spell on me but to no avail, And had I prior knowledge, I would have brought my billy-he goat, and my speckled fetish cock, What! Would that I were able to know in advance, I would have prepared for it. I ignored banjo and guitar players, Because they are insignificant musicians who, Play for money clothes to wear and a few pounds to get married.
Emir of Hadeija (Polydor POLP 121), which came out in 1985 I think, was one of Shata's last recordings, and is considered one of his best. I presume from the song titles that they are in honor of various notables. For instance, Side One honors rulers of various traditional states in Northern Nigeria, while I would guess Side Two praises business or political leaders:
The picture at the top of this post is from the Mamman Shata Facebook page. The translation of the lyrics of "Bakandamiyar" is from the article, "10 Years After his Death, Shata Still Lives on," from the Daily Trust (Nigeria), June 21, 2009, which provided much useful information for this post. I'm also greatly indebted to the blog Taskar Mamman Shataand the Wikipedia article "Mamman Shata."
In 1987 French producer Jean Philippe Rykiel produced Soro, an album by the legendary Malian vocalist Salif Keita that was acclaimed as a World Music™ classic. Sorry, but I just hated it. I'm not saying that African musicians aren't allowed to take advantage of the latest in studio technology to appeal to an international audience, but something about that particular effort just left me cold. Keita's beautiful voice was swamped in instrumentation and rococo flourishes. What a waste!
Today's offering is Synimory (EMI E0199912-4), a 1991 cassette by Burkinabé singer Seydou Zombra. Synimory was also produced by Rykiel. On Youtube you can find a number of previous recordings by Zombra, and you know what? I like this one the most. Here the production elevates rather than overwhelms Zombra's rather impressive vocal chops.
The music of Burkina Faso is not well-known outside that country. Musicians from Burkina, like Amadou Balaké, often migrate to other countries, like Ivory Coast, to record and make a decent living. In Zombra's case it was apparently his parents who moved to Abidjan, where he was born in 1956. He is said to have been a talented footballer in his youth before becoming a sports announcer for Radio France International's program, "Les Dieux du Stade," and producing numerous other programs for the station. His first LP, Gnoumbono (Capriccio 37077), was released in 1979.
After a long illness, Zombra passed away in Paris on July 16 of last year. He is missed by sports fans and music aficionados alike. Adieu! Seydou Zombra - Synimory
I was all ready to post today's selection - Baba Gaston's wonderful 1983 release Condition Bi-Msum (ASL ASLP 971) - when I realized that Stefan Werdekker had made it available on his blog WorldService a while back. Should I or shouldn't I, I wondered? Then I decided to go ahead with it. If you missed it before, here's your chance to enjoy some of the sweetest soukous the '80s managed to produce.
I've written about Baba Gaston before. He's one of many Congolese musicians who made their way to East Africa during the '70s and '80s. Coming from Lubumbashi in the southern part of then-Zaïre, where Kiswahili was already the lingua franca, it wasn't a difficult transition for Gaston and his Orchestre Baba Nationale to settle down in Dar Es Salaam in 1971, relocating to Nairobi a few years later. Here the band gave rise to many offshoots and a distinctive East African iteration of the classic Congo rumba sound. It all came crashing down in 1985 when foreign musicians were ordered to leave Kenya under President Daniel Arap Moi.
Les Côcôs were one of the innumerable groups that popped up during the first wave of Zouglou in the Ivory Coast during the economic crisis of the early '90s. I wrote about the genre in an earlier post here. Through the travails of recent years, notably two civil wars, Zouglou has remained popular, according to this very informative article:
"...Through its emphasis on social and political criticism, zouglou developed into a form of Ivorian counter-culture. Zouglou musicians represent the perspective of marginalized youth and social underdogs and have been very critical of the devastating behavior of the wealthy and politically powerful in Côte d’Ivoire. Zouglou artists see their role as speaking truth to power, because, according to a famous nouchi (Ivorian street slang) saying, gbê est mieux que drap: “the truth is better than shame”. Zouglou music gave the youth in Abidjan a platform from which to participate in the public debate...."
As is often the case, I've been unable to find out much about Les Côcôs. After their first release, the cassette Zouglou Gnakpa (EMI EO38192-4, 1992), they seemed to disappear without a trace. That one, however, was a good seller and spawned at least one hit, "L'Enfant Yode" (listed as "Les Côcôs" on the inlay card), which has been included on several CD compilations. Enjoy Zouglou Gnakpa now!
