There’s never a beginning, middle, or end to a Femi Kuti show. When he marches on stage with his dancers and his band The Positive Force, be prepared because the show could go on for what seems hours. Case in point, this past Saturday at 9:30 Club: Kuti brought on full force but sometimes laid it on too thick.
Femi’s show was packed, wall to wall, with people from all backgrounds. Since the tradition of Afrobeat music is a hodgepodge of merengue, highlife, funk, and call and response, there’s—thankfully—no true way to pinpoint his devotees.
The show began really strong. A battalion of West African men in traditional garb paraded out on stage brandishing their brass instruments. Enter the dancers, three early Nigerian women showing off their Mapouka-derived gyrations. Then keyboardist and bass guitarist followed, adding an extra layer of musical arrangement; this harmony was just as infectious as Fela’s once-reputed “underground spiritual game.” By the time Femi came out, it was like church; fans in all tiers of the 9:30 shook their groove-thangs.
Femi and band performed most if not all of his latest album Africa for Africa. The album itself feels like a collection of standards. Some songs are new, but most of them have been played live before, on tour and at his club in Lagos, the New Afrika Shrine. The songs were run-of-the-mill; he sang about the usual political obstacles that plague the entire African continent.
Femi has been seen by music writers as a refined version of his dad, musically and sartorially. (Fela performed in his underwear, unlike his son who wears handwoven Gbaries.) His father pioneered the sound of the Afrobeat, giving it an unclassifiable and polyrhythmic sound. Femi, in contrast, leads a band that’s heavy in the brass but less mercurial with his musical arrangements. Perhaps this is why sometimes Femi chills the band out mid-show to sermonize.
Despite a lively show, Femi missed the mark on audience interaction, which what I love most about his shows. He’s a wise and playful man who has the tendency to tap his fans’ humor with adult-themed jokes, such as sex. Usually the band joins him in the call-response game with the audience. Notwithstanding, Femi’s music is something that Fela never dreamed. With that small sample of Femi-goers virgin to his music, the fighting words intrinsic to Afrobeat music are no longer silenced beyond the borders of the so-called dark continent. It’s international.
