The Return of Live Music

After a recent very pleasant conversation with the always amiable Francis Falceto, I was fortunate to receive a CD containing all the publicity he had collected over his 20 years of promoting Ethiopian music. Amongst the many hundreds of scans and texts contained within I found a folder called ‘The Very Best of Ethiopiques’ which I immediately opened with great interest.

While other folders had many long and detailed articles relating to the Ethiopiques artists and the individual Ethiopiques releases, the folder I was browsing through contained mostly short and predicable reviews from mainstream media sources. Then I found this:

Forum Threat Title: ‘How much are the Ethiopiques Artists Getting?’
“Given that Union Square licensed the material from Buda (…) how much do you think the original artists/songwriters (or if dead, their families) are getting for their labours? (…) One option would be for Union Square to link up with Fairtrade to discuss partnership possibilities”.

The answer in the forum came not from USM but from the owner of the forum, Charlie Gillett, who replied “Hmm, I wonder what the folks at Union Square will make of this? As they are so far down the licensing line, I don’t think they have any moral responsibilities to the artists beyond paying royalties to Buda (…) Most of the artists would have recorded for session fees at best. I can’t imagine a royalty structure existing at the time.”

These are strange days for the music industry and a mainstream label like Union Square Music really took a big risk releasing an obscure project such as ‘The Very Best of Ethiopiques’, as it cannot be over emphasised how difficult times are at present with the internet and illegal downloads undermining legal trade.

Because of this, it seems that nowadays many artists are having to seek alternative business models to generate revenue. For example Radiohead left EMI to join mass concert organisers Live Nation, U2 made over $20m from the release of a 3D film their live concert in Buenos Aires, and Prince released his new album for free with a British newspaper then sold out London’s biggest concert arena 21 times. It is in this environment that we have to look at the Ethiopiques artists and ask “What did they get?”.

Well… It lead directly to the Ethiopiques headlining at Glastonbury 2008 and Womad 2009. To continuous successful solo tours for Mulatu Astatqé, Alèmayèhu Eshèté, Gétatchèw Mèkurya, and Mahmoud Ahmed. To Mulatu Astatqé releasing his first album of new material in 30 years. And finally going a good way to undoing some of the awful stereotyping done by Live Aid and firmly entrenched in public’s conciousness ever since.

As Charlie Gullitt correctly points our Union Square is “a straight forward commercial company, with no pretence of having a social agenda” so considering this, the whole affair really has to go down as quite the most remarkable experience for any ethical movement supporting the Ethiopiques artists and as such offers the yet another brave new workable business model for the changing music industry to consider.

Timjim 2009

Image: http://www.flickr.com/photos/rainaffectedbaboonparade/ / CC BY-NC-SA 2.0

Tlahoun Gèssèssè 1940-2009

Very sad news

Ethiopiques legend Tlahoun Gèssèssè died on 19 April 2009 in Addis Ababa as he was being taken to hospital by his wife. He had been in poor health for several years due to diabetes and had just returned to Ethiopia from the United States.

Born in Addis Ababa to an Amhara father and Oromo mother, Tlahoun was widely loved by both the major ethnic groups in the country. Howeverunlike other Ethiopiques greats he was was unable to take part in the recent concerts following the recent re-releases because of ill-health.

At the time of his death national television and radio broadcasts were interrupted to broadcast the news. On Thursday April 23 2009 a state funeral was held with about one million Ethiopians, including government officials, and entertainers, gathered in Mesquel Square.

He is survived by his wife and two children and will be missed by all.

Timjim 2009

Image: Steffen Wurzel – Creative Commons

Ethiopia – Land of Cryptic Diversity

To understand anything of the music of Ethiopia it is worthwhile dipping ones toes into the warm water of the great ocean that is Ethiopian history and culture. In this now land-locked nation, thousands of years of history have percolated to bring us a culture deeply-rooted in tradition and ancient ideas. The Very Best of Ethiopiques very much mirrors that sense of depth.

Few of the modern perceptions, ideas and images that Europeans have of Ethiopia are accurate. In fact, most are wide of the mark. The fact that the country’s coat of arms is a pentagram seems to be symbolic of its elusive, cryptic, even perhaps esoteric nature. For those who first encounter Ethiopia, its people and culture, one of the first surprises is how wonderfully different the country is. Take for example, time and the calendar. The year may currently be 2009 in Europe, yet in Ethiopia, the only country in the world to use the Ge’ez Calendar, the year is 2001.

Modern Ethiopia is a state with a long pedigree going by a variety of names across the centuries, including the Aksumite Empire, or more recently Abyssinia. Established sometime before the 10th century BCE, Ethiopia can even be found in Homer’s Iliad and Odyssey (written about 200 years later). The ancient Kingdom of Sheba (as in the ‘Queen of Sheba’) mentioned in the Old Testament is said to be situated here. What is more, Ethiopia is one of the oldest Christian states in the world, converting many centuries before all the European nations. The most famous church of Ethiopian Orthodoxy, the Church of Our Lady Mary of Zion, is said to contain the Ark of the Covenant (the holy container holding the Ten Commandments).

Ethiopian culture carries this feeling of inspired and grounded tradition, yet also incredible diversity. With over eighty indigenous languages, homogeneity is not something indigenously Ethiopian. The Very Best of Ethiopiques picks up on this variety, and can be described as enchanting, earthy, melancholic, even. In its diversity, TVBE defies description and pigeon-holing, but at the same time there are common threads that run through much of the music we find here.

The common threads that the European ear might find it easier to grasp are the jazz-tinged sounds of Tesfa Maryam Kidané, Mulatu Astatqé, Batha Gèbrè-Heywèt and Tsegué-Maryam Guébrou. Tesfa Maryam Kidané’s “Heywèté” is a wonderful instance of styled saxophone playing and Tsegué-Maryam Guébrou’s “Mother’s Love” is an excellent example of simplistic yet piercing and delicate piano work. As familiar as these instruments may sound, one can hear the different tradition from which the music springs.

On listening for the first time to Alèmayèhu Eshèté, Wallias Band, Ayaléw Mèsfin & Black Lion Band and Sèyfu Yohannès we might be forgiven for thinking that we arelistening to funk. In fact, we are offered a dose of what might be more reliably and readily called high-tempo Ethiopian jazz-funk, with un-funk-like vocals and percussion that is remarkably well-grounded, earthy and solid.

These jazz- and funk-like sounds keeps the listener ‘attached’ to TVBE, but changes in rhythm, vocal style and the fact that TVBE is sung in wholly unfamiliar tongues keeps us forever surprised, mesmerised and suspended in the unknown. Two examples are Beyene Habte’s “Milènu” and Mulatu Astatqé’s “Embi Ila” which, through changes and syncopations, take the listener full circle through the known to the unknown and then back again.

Like Ethiopia itself, much of TVBE sounds unfamiliar and ‘other-worldly’. Take for instance the vocal qualities of Mahmoud Ahmed, Tlahoun Gèssèssè and Menelik Wèsnatchèw which at times sound, for want of a better comparison, Arabic simply because the European ear is unable to find any other point of reference. Alèmu Aga’s “Abatatchen Hoy” falls even further outside any reference point, though. His deep singing and mastery of the begena captures an ancient and alien culture, enchanting, spiritual and deeply hypnotic.

The Very Best of Ethiopiques is unique in that it is an attempt to chart the traditions and ‘feel’ of a culture through the music of a short yet extremely productive and creative period: 1970s Ethiopia. It successfully captures the depth of Ethiopia, the diversity of Ethiopian music and the genuineness of its artists.

Raf Uzar 2009

If you’re reading this… (Iain Scott Album Compiler)

If you’re reading this the chances are you’ve already been seduced by the mesmeric music found on ‘Ethiopiques’. The evocative modes that you’d be hard-pressed to identify as African; the insistent 6/8 groove that can send members of the audience into what appears to be an ecstatic dance; the twilight world where American jazz meets Ethiopian tradition to create an aural dreamscape so ideally suited to the soundtracks of art-house movies.

So these words are not about that. No, not at all. They’re a plea for the real world of Ethiopian music today. Yes, in the main, the acoustic bands of the 70s no longer exist. And yes, it’s very probable their demise was economic rather than artistic. Although promoters might still pay as much for just two musicians and an arsenal of electronics as they used to pay for a whole orchestra, the associated costs – particularly in the Ethiopian diaspora – are significantly less.

And you might regret that. But if Ethiopian music is only to be appreciated through a wistful and rosy rear-view mirror then a disservice is done, not only to the music, but also to a people. Because the songs are still there. The great performances are still there. The addictive rhythms and unique melodies that twist and twine in a manner that seems completely unconstrained by their pentatonic format … all these are still there.

And if the clothes are electronic and the aspirations more in tune with MTV than BBC Radio 4, France Inter or NPR, then so what? That’s only the surface. The Western world missed much of what went on in Ethiopian music the first time around. It would be ironic if, having finally caught up, we fixed our appreciation to a particular time and space, refusing to open our ears to its manifestations today.

Iain Scott www.triple-earth.co.uk 2009
(The Very Best of Ethiopique is compiled by Iain Scott and Steve Bunyan)

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Free Love and War Songs? Gétatchèw Mèkurya

My girlfriend and I were watching the film “What’s Love Got To Do With It?” (1993), the story of Ike and Tina Turner, a couple of nights ago. After finishing the film, I eagerly went over to my record collection and said to her: “I know he was bad news, but I gotta play you something!”

So, I pulled out my best Ike Turner and the Kings of Rhythm record only to be abruptly stopped in my tracks:
“I don’t want to listen to that,” she exclaimed, “I don’t care if he is a genius or not. I’m not interested!”
This brings me to the unusual and unique example of Gétatchèw Mèkurya, a true individual in the world of Ethiopian music, who one day decided to transpose with his saxophone a traditional vocal style of Ethiopian war songs. Performing in a military cape and head gear resembling a lion’s mane, Mèkurya plays a music called ’shellèla fukara’, which involves shouting and howling, until you lose your throat into the instrument playing a music that spirals into less and less structure and inhibition. It is liked by Ethiopian audiences because they can recognise it as the vocal style of their war songs which is saying “We will kill you. We will cut the balls off you. We will do this, and we will do that,” (Francis Falceto) and when Mèkurya plays, each and every Ethiopian can hear behind the saxophone these lyrics shouted as loud as can be.

Gétatchèw Mèkurya started his pioneering adventures in music in 1952-3, a full 10 years before the beginning of the US Free Jazz Scene. Like all Ethiopians at this time, he was unfamiliar with music from the rest of the world (including the rest of Africa), and knew little or nothing of international Jazz Culture. He had been lucky enough to be recruited by the Municipality Orchestra of Addis Ababa where he had learned to play the saxophone performing in theatres and bands, and that was it. End of story. If we now fast forward to present day, Gétatchèw Mèkurya can be found playing with cutting edge Free Jazz Bands where his style is now compared to that of Ornette Coleman and Albert Ayler. Mèkurya loves playing with these bands (who love playing with him) as he is given the chance to blow and blow, competing with all, to see who can go furthest in their music. It is in this Free Jazz movement built on the morals of the 1960s civil rights movement that the war songs of Gétatchèw Mèkurya have found their home.

Although unique in his own way, Gétatchèw Mèkurya is not the first to reveal this incredible dichotomy that allows traditional values to sit comfortably next to cutting edge modern ones. Sun Ra arrived at the same point travelling in the opposite direction, leaving his origins in the open Chicago Improvised Jazz scene of the 1960s and ending up in a separatist, traditionalist, afro-centric sect claiming it could save the world. If it hadn’t been for this, the musical innovations in improvisation and communal creativity as practised by Sun Ra would have elevated his name to the very top of the Jazz world. As it stands though, he remains a cult figure on the fringes, just as does Gétatchèw Mèkurya.

I heard Gétatchèw Mèkurya’s music before I found out they were based on war songs, and am now left in two minds. As anyone who has studied modern cultural theory knows, there are many routes to end up at the same artistic conclusion, some morally sound and others not. But to prefer the music of Duke Ellington to that of Charlie Parker just because of their private lives, though understandable, also leaves an uncomfortable feeling. With regards to Gétatchèw Mèkurya, who can say if it is possible to take a moral ‘high ground’ on his music, as even if in the past he was cut off from the Free Jazz movement, by now he must be more than aware of what it represents?

Timjim 2008

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Live Aid – Onwards and Upwards (Finally…)

Let me just begin by saying, it was conceived as a ‘rock’ music concert, it raised a final figure of over £150m, and the live broadcast was watched by an estimated 1.5 billion viewers across 100 countries.

The UK event featured contributions from artists from UK, US, Australia, Japan, Austria, Holland, Yugoslavia, Russia, Germany, and Norway, but did not feature a single African act. This was because the organiser’s held the belief at that time that broadcasting African artists would deter a mass audience (a philosophy since proven wrong). The closest that the UK event came to any kind of authentic African experience was the appearance of US Blues legend BB King and Nigerian Born Afro British Soul singer Sade.

The US event, as well as featuring a glut of UK artists, did at least involve an important Afro-American presence including: Four Tops, Billy Ocean, Run DMC, Bo Diddley, Albert Collins, Ashford and Simpson, Kool and the Gang, Patti Labelle, Eddie Kendricks and David Ruffen, and Tina Turner. But again, supporting these world famous legends was not a single African or Ethiopian act. A surprise considering that the US had a significant Ethiopian Diaspora population including Aster Aweke, Tesfa Maryam Kidané, Girma Bèyènè, Ayaléw Mèsfin, and even Ethiopia’s top record producer himself Amha Eshèté. These people were resident (and some were still musically active) in the US at the time of the Live Aid Concert.

The truth is, live aid was never conceived to promote Ethiopian music or to aid the Ethiopia music scene by giving its musicians the exposure they required to become more self sufficient. Even if anyone had tried to organise an Ethiopian presence (or better still an Ethiopian event), this would have been impossible as the golden era of Modern Ethiopian music was now suppressed under a military Stalinist regime (the greatest cause of the famine), forbidding all urban night-life and restricted artists from traveling abroad. Realistically, at the time the only hope was the displaced Ethiopian artists based in the US, which never happened.

So, while debate continued to rage over what ‘should have happened’ at the 1985 LiveAid concerts, Ethiopians themselves were forced to wait in isolation until finally becoming a democratic republic in 1994. However, the former Ethiopia was partitioned into Ethiopia and Eritrea and a new war broke out (lasting until 2000) that continued to stifle creativity and the development of a domestic music industry. That brings us up to present day, past the release of Francis Falceto’s ‘The Ethiopiques Series’ from 1997onwards, and up to the recent release of ‘The Best of the Ethiopiques’ (2CD) 2007, the first attempt to cross over modern Ethiopian Music to a mainstream Western market. But will either of these European based re-issues finally succeed in gaining Ethiopian Music the recognition it deserves?

Cuban music was equally in a long term state of decline with its forgotten legends about to pass away, until Ry Cooder initiated the project that was to grow into the ‘Buena Vista Social Club’ gaining massive publicity and the rest is history. Although this article started out as a criticism of the missed opportunity of Live Aid, perhaps in fact, now is the only time it has ever been (and will ever be) possible to elevate the living legends of modern Ethiopian music to their rightful place in world music. So if Elvis Costello, Robert Plant, Patti Smith, Tom Waits, Damon Albarn, Brian Eno or anyone else who has publicly stated admiration of modern Ethiopian music is reading this… Keep up the good work and more.

Timjim 2008

Image: http://www.flickr.com/photos/chimchim/ / CC BY-NC-ND 2.0

“If you do something you get problems. If you do nothing you are cool” (French Saying)

If you check out Benjamen Walker’s ‘Theory Of Everything’ Podcast on 10.02.06 (now unavailable) you can listen to a very interesting interview with Francis Falceto, assistant compiler of ‘The Very Best of Ethiopiques’ and compiler of the original ‘Ethiopiques series’. In this interview, despite everyone’s common intention to promote Ethiopian Modern Music, nearly all the interviewees get side-tracked into the issue of ‘who has the right to promote’ Ethiopian music and the problems of representing a culture that is not your own.

As Francis Falceto states “If I like something I need to share it…” and with regards to his reason for publishing the ‘Ethiopiques series’, simply that “I could not see anybody taking care of it so I went ahead…”. Russ Gershon of the Either / Orchestra then equally harmlessly explains how he was listening to Ethiopian music, incorporated it into their set, got great success off even small town audiences, and ended up performing live in Ethiopia with some of the original artists.

But there is a strange taste that remains in the back of the mouth at the same time as the heart warms to such stories. Mulatu Astatqé sums this up perfectly as he is unable to avoid expressing his discontent that it has not been the Ethiopian government or Ethiopians themselves who have been responsible for the recent rise in popularity of modern Ethiopian music. Astatqé claims Ethiopians “don’t look up to their own cultural assets”, a curious occurrence considering moments earlier Falceto claims Ethiopians are “very proud and strongly nationalist”.

As a British citizen who spent nearly 10 years collecting Polish 60-70s R’n’B / Funk / Soul, whilst living in post-communist Poland, I can sympathise greatly with Francis Falceto here. Francis Falceto first heard Mahmoud Ahmed’s ‘Ere Mela Mela’ in 1984, 13 years before the release of the first record in the Ethiopiques series, and whilst the Ethiopian born Mulatu Astatqé is correct in all he says, he also has lived in both the UK and the US, gaining exposure to the mechanics of a western music marketing industry. While everyone would love an ‘Ethiopian’ to be in charge, the question of what should allow (or exclude) people from being able to represent Ethiopia remains beyond all.

When the Either /Orchestra played in Ethiopia, Francis Falceto tracked down Bahta Gèbrè-Heywèt, who then went on to sing in public for the first time in decades, and by all accounts had the most fantastic time. The Ethiopia in which this concert took place was not the isolated and restricted word that existed up until democracy arrived in 1991, but was a world where young Ethiopians wish to be part of world teen culture joining in with global youth fashion and eager to make music “of an equal quality to the rest of the world” (The Rough Guide to World Music 1994). When Mulatu Astatqé returned to Ethiopia in the 1960s, Ethiopia was equally a place joining in with world culture with numerous bands imitating UK and US pop acts.

Right at the very beginning of the podcast, Francis Falceto expresses how it is his belief that when it comes to music “It’s ridiculous to write about it” and people need only to listen as “that’s enough”. However, it is he who has written the incredibly extensive liner notes to the Ethiopiques series (and much more). This just goes to prove that it is one thing saying something and another actually making it happen in the real world, and while we can all talk about ideal situations, they somehow always remain just out of reach.

Francis Falceto finishes off the podcast by saying:
“If you do something you get problem (sic), if you do nothing you will be cool.”
Bringing a small smile to my face (as I hope to anyone who has ever tried to change anything through music) and causing a nod of acknowledgement to all the kindred souls out there, wherever they may live.

Timjim 2007

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