If all compilers of classic African pop worked as hard as Samy Ben Redjeb, there would be fewer such compilations, but they’d be much better. In researching the 70s pop of Benin and Togo (mostly Benin), Ben Redjeb made multiple forays to West Africa, digging through market stalls, vintage record shops, and ultimately a scorpion infested vinyl warehouse in Cotonou to find the mother load of all-but-forgotten hits from which these 14 tracks were lovingly selected. Having made his choices, Ben Redjeb returned to track down the composers and artists (or their survivors) to secure rights and also detailed interviews, photographs and other memorabilia of the era. All this and more fills the pages of a 40+ page booklet that makes this compilation so much more than a fun and funky novelty release. This packate offers a complete introduction to a fascinating unsung chapter in the vast Afropop story.
The big picture is that by 1970 Lome and Cotonou were awash in pop music acts creating a fusion of Cuban, Congolese, and local indigenous styles. Those local styles included powerful religious traditions, such as Vodun, with their wealth of ancient rhythms, melodies, and folklore. Then came the overlay of James Brown funk, and its most consequential African offshoot, the Afrobeat sound of Fela Kuti. Throw all that together and you begin to grasp the quirky appeal of groups like Lokonon André & Les Volcans, or Orchestre Poly-Rythmo. Poly-Rhythmo and Orchestre Black Santiago were mainstays of the 24-track Satel studio in Cotonou, and they backed many popular singers of the day. All the names and details a true music nerd requires are supplied, but the real payoff is the music.
Les Volcans kick off with down-and-dirty 12/8 pump, featuring gnashing electric guitar and the fierce buzz saw vocal of Lokonon André. The late Gabo Brown lays down a raspy soul vocal over Poly-Rythmo’s sizzling Afrobeat groove pm “It’s a Vanity.” On “Gbeti Madjro,” Poly-Rythmo cranks into high gear with James Brown screams and punchy clean-toned guitar riffs tangling over a breathless shuffle beat. The James Brown vibe also shines through on the more chilled-out “Wait for Me,” by Roger Damawuzan of Lome, Togo. The most unique tracks are those that incorporate strong doses of local rhythm, like the jittery, bell-driven funk of “Vinon so Minsou” by Ouinsou Corneille & Black Santiago. This music will make you smile with its playful exuberance and unexpected creative flourishes. But rather than packaging history as retro-psychedelic-funk, and leaving things there, Africa Scream Contest comes through with the genuine story of the music and the musicians, and this puts the release in a class by itself.
If all compilers of classic African pop worked as hard as Samy Ben Redjeb, there would be fewer such compilations, but they’d be much better. In researching the 70s pop of Benin and Togo (mostly Benin), Ben Redjeb made multiple forays to West Africa, digging through market stalls, vintage record shops, and ultimately a scorpion infested vinyl warehouse in Cotonou to find the mother load of all-but-forgotten hits from which these 14 tracks were lovingly selected. Having made his choices, Ben Redjeb returned to track down the composers and artists (or their survivors) to secure rights and also detailed interviews, photographs and other memorabilia of the era. All this and more fills the pages of a 40+ page booklet that makes this compilation so much more than a fun and funky novelty release. This packate offers a complete introduction to a fascinating unsung chapter in the vast Afropop story.