“...they sing: “Hey Jessica, what’s wrong with you? Promise me you’re not pregnant this time.” And while it seems somewhat harsh to make such a statement, unlike today’s modern musicians, at least they ask nicely. ”

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By Kevin Pearson  |  Send to Friend

I know it may seem like a lazy comparison, but Philadelphia and Lagos aren’t that dissimilar. Both are former capitals of their respective countries, usurped by purposefully built cities designed to be centers of government. Both cities have witnessed ups and downs, seen better times, and, despite myriad problems, are looking to rebound. And, most importantly, both cities are well known for producing music in the Seventies that not only sat well at the time, but also served to influence future generations of musicians. Yet, where Philadelphia Soul was slick and producer-driven, the music that poured out of Nigeria and the streets of Lagos -- music that is described on this CD cover as “Original Heavyweight Afrobeat, Highlife, and Afro Funk” -- was raw and un-refined. While there are vast stylistic differences between these two Seventies staples, there are also a slew of subtle similarities: the extensive use of horns, lyrics that can also double as social commentary, and an element of fusion that presupposed their sounds as new without actually being a complete reinvention of what came before. This compilation -- a compendium to Strut’s first edition of Nigeria 70, released back in 2001 -- is a treasure trove of aural delights, and is well worth spending a week (or more) with…

Monday
Today, the thermometer in Philadelphia bubbled passed 85 degrees. I can imagine the mercury percolating and popping with the same invigoration as the beats that back most of these excellent tracks. The temperature here pales, of course, in comparison to Nigeria. So it’s slightly surprising that pretty much every track in this collection elicits the listener to move, groove, and get down on the good foot. You’d think that the last thing the Nigerians would want to do is dance. But dance they do. Consisting of 16 tracks and over 70 minutes of music, it’s not surprising that everything fails to sink in on first listen. One thing I did notice, though, is that as well as the aforementioned Nigerian musical styles (Afrobeat / Highlife), other influences, such as soul and reggae, can also be found within. On the extreme edge, Rex Williams’ sumptuous “You are my Heart” is just a steel drum away from being dubbed Caribbean. What ties all these songs together though, is Nigeria. And while the band’s styles might differentiate slightly, the overall level of musical ability is uniformly excellent.

Tuesday
In our fast paced lives we may not notice, but Philadelphia still has a slight Seventies sheen to it. If you ignore the iPods and cell phones, forget the current fashions and wear a pair of rose tinted spectacles, certain streets probably haven’t changed that much since the heyday of Gamble and Huff. This compilation also has a Seventies sheen to it. Today, as I stepped onto a Septa bus (which itself tried to tell me, via a malfunctioning LED screen that it was the ‘70s, albeit January 31st, 2079) the slick, saxophone infused sounds of Peter King swirled through my headphones suggesting that the decade that also gave us disco and punk had never ended. From Ify Jerry Crusades’ countrified take on West Coast psychedelia to the lounge-like funk of The Faces (not the Rod Stewart fronted group, if you’re wondering), Lagos Jump offers up an aural overview of Nigeria in the 1970s that still sounds fresh over 30 years later.

Wednesday
The last thing you want when laying in bed, sick with suspected food poisoning, is to listen to anything with a beat. But as I lay on my Ikea mattress, literally forcing sips of water down my gullet, I made myself listen to Lagos Jump. While certain tunes proved to be too much for my ailing body, several songs actually helped sooth my pain. The dub-infused sound of Sir Victor Uwaifo & His Melody Maestros was particularly pleasant and, in my dehydrated haze, sounded uncannily like Panda Bear. Chief Checker also brought the dub with his flute laden, Lee ‘Scratch’ Perry-like track “Africa Irie” while Eddie Okwedy’s melancholic “Happy Survival” was sufficiently anodynic and provided me with ample proof that this CD is much more than the beat infused dance party that I first predicted.

Thursday
According to the liner notes, Lagos Jump is the sound of post-independence Nigeria, a “time of celebration and wealth but, ultimately, of political oppression.” It continues to say that the music reflects those times and, in my opinion, so do the song titles. These range from the in-your-face imagery of “Tug of War” and “Hot Tears” to the distressing dichotomy of “Happy Survival.” Lyrically, however, it’s difficult to discern what the songs are actually about. Certain phrases pop up, especially on the more ‘American’ sounding songs such as “Everybody Likes Something Good.” For the most part, though, the Nigerian accent and local lyrics serve to add an extra instrumental layer to the musical mix. Now and again a line will jump out at you, with my current favorite (just because of the oddity of it) arriving amongst the mellow groove of the Peacocks Guiter Band. On their song “Eddie Quansa,” amid gently plucked guitars, lilting harmonies, and subdued percussion, they sing: “Hey Jessica, what’s wrong with you? Promise me you’re not pregnant this time.” And while it seems somewhat harsh to make such a statement, unlike today’s modern musicians, at least they ask nicely.

Friday
OK, so I’ll come clean -- I’m no expert when it comes to African music. I like it, and have several compilations in my record collection (The Guitar and Gun: Highlife Music from Ghana is my personal favorite), but I have trouble dissecting the genres and compartmentalizing the songs. I know ‘highlife’ originated in Ghana and spread to Nigeria and that it is characterized by multiple guitars, jazz-infused horns, and “call and response” vocals, but I wouldn’t be able to say, with any certainty that is, if a song is considered highlife or Jùjú or Afro-funk. Certain genres, such as Afrobeat, are themselves a mix of several pre-existing West African styles. What seems to tie everything together is the Yoruba drumming style, which, from what I understand, uses different tonalities to make the drums ‘talk’. That said -- certain songs on this compilation are also influenced by the Western music that flooded Nigeria in the 1960’s. The Immortals’ “Hot Tears” not only reads like a Nuggets outtake, but is also an African version of garage rock. For the most part, though, this CD is the sound of musicians embracing their musical heritage, and, like Philadelphia Soul at the same time, making new music out of old ideas.

Saturday
When you think of Africa, you invariably think of safaris or wild animals or poverty and the searing sun radiating outwards from the equator. The last thing you think of, I’m pretty sure, is Lancaster County. Yet, with the humidity climbing close to a record high, and the vast open fields of Lancaster slightly reminiscent of Africa’s vast open plains (alright, I’m stretching here), you’d think that this album would be a good bedfellow for a road trip to the land of the Amish. Yet, Lagos Jump does not evoke the aforementioned typical African imagery. Instead, this is city music: slightly claustrophobic, repetitive, and, at times, a little suffocating. Perhaps this is a byproduct of Lagos itself, which is one of the most populated cities in Africa. The urban nature of the album reveals itself from the beginning as Sir Shina Peters & His International Stars open the compilation with “Yabis.” The song, a seven-minute jam that rides by on a repetitive rhythmic motion, sounds like a crowded street corner, a boomerang bass line continually co-mingling with the rising cadence, or Sir Shina Peters’ lyrical calls. Unfortunately, there’s no way you can hustle at a farm stand.

Sunday
Sundays are invariably lazy and whereas my first impression of this record was a beat driven, funk-filled Afrobeat frenzy, I have now come to view my initial reaction as similarly slothful, lackadaisical even. This compilation has evolved, layer by layer, into the perfect compendium for any hour of any day. From the laid back grooves of Olufemi Ajasa, to the crisp clear instrumentation of Bola Johnson, the vast array of music contained within means that there is invariably something that will pique the interest of anyone. Ultimately, though, like my reaction to it, this compilation is one born of contradictions: the fusion of traditional African music with Western influences; the exuberance of a country celebrating it’s independence coupled with ensuing political oppression; and the mix of upbeat numbers nestled next to mellower, lilting moments. As an overview of a country’s musical heritage, Lagos Jump manages to transcend these contradictions, as well styles, genres and moods. And, like Philadelphia Soul at the same time, Lagos Jump proves that the music you make can even transcend the city that lends it its name.

 

Kevin Pearson is a Philadelphia inhabitant, but his heart belongs in Lagos.