In recent years, a long-awaited literature on modern African music has begun to emerge. This is the first book in some time that has attempted to take on the entire subject in one bite. Frank Tenaille is a seasoned journalist, radio producer and author in this area, and he plainly has years of research to draw upon in pulling together this tight series of thirty short essays. This format makes the book a useful research tool, filled out with good appendices that define terms and describe a huge array of African musical instruments. Any serious student of today's African music will want to own this book for its detail, its treatment of recent trends, and its bold effort to pull together so many strands of the sprawling Afropop story.

That said, the book inevitably suffers from its attempt to bite off more than any single volume can chew. The most satisfying survey books on African music are African All-Stars by Chris Stapleton and Chris May (Quartet Books, 1987) and Africa O-Ye! by Graeme Ewans (Da Capo, 1991). The long-form chapters in these books allow for a narrative flow that Tenaille's brief, info-packed chunks can't deliver. But these books are now hard to find, and old enough to be in need of much updating, some of which Tenaille provides. Survey books of the 1990s, The World of African Music by Ronnie Graham (Pluto, 1999) and our own Afropop! An Illustrated Guide to Contemporary African Music (Banning Eyre and Sean Barlow, Chartwell, 1995), are both out of print now, leaving the best available print sources on African music the Musichound World volume (Visible Ink, 2000)--essentially an album guide--and the more expansive Rough Guide to World Music, Volume 1 (Rough Guides, 1999).

Given all that, Tenaille's book does fill a niche. Anyone familiar with his subject will have to get through a lot of familiar facts and history in this collection of essays, but there are sure to be intriguing details that even diehard fans have missed, like the fact that Jimi Hendrix cited Congo guitar giant Doctor Nico as a major inspiration, that Congolese singer Papa Wemba inspired clone bands in Japan, or that Senegalese rappers Positive Black Soul base their raps in the Africanist writings of Amadou Hampâte Bâ and Cheikh Anta Diop. Some of the most intriguing material is to be found in the book's meaty footnotes, for example, a juicy list of popular slang terms in Kinshasa.

Tenaille is at his best when he slows down enough to tell a story--like the recording of the 1986, pan-African benefit song, "Tam-Tam pour l'Éthiopie," or the life and death of streetwise Abidjan television personality Roger Fulgence Kassy. But with so much ground to cover, these meatier moments are few. Mostly, these essays work hard to jam in lots of history--cultural, political, and personal--and to touch on as many bases as possible before racing onto another country and another set of circumstances. Occasionally, Tenaille overreaches, as in one essay that tries to cover both the chimurenga music of Thomas Mapfumo in Zimbabwe, and the political song career of Bonga in Angola. Politics is the link, but there are so many differences to elide that in the end, the essay is somewhat confusing and doesn't quite give either artist his due.

Having based his work in France and French-speaking countries, Tenaille is weaker on places like Nigeria, Ghana, and Zimbabwe, particularly when it comes to more recent developments. Among his best essays are the ones on Manu Dibangu--who emerges as a visionary--and on new Senegalese rap, which has struggled mightily to evolve beyond mimicry to become a genuinely African phenomenon.

In the end, Tenaille faces an impossible task. It would take thousands of pages to treat this subject fully, so inevitably there are unsettling omissions. Most notably, North Africa is simply not considered here, implying that rai, shaabi, Gnawa, and Berber pop are not part of this story, which clearly they are. Tenaille is obviously aware of this. He is presently working on a book about rai music. Still, it might have been good to explain why this book does not treat Egypt, Algeria, and Morocco as parts of Africa. Then there are smaller things. Amid all the riches of Madagascar, Tenaille devotes much of his essay to the marvelous, late flute master Rakoto Frah while barely mentioning the innovations of guitar virtuoso D'Gary or salegy legend Jaojoby, and simply leaving out countless others. Any serious Afropop fan will want to quibble with some of Tenaille's emphases and choices, but will also find much to appreciate in his clearly well-researched book.

Tenaille seems largely unaware of American writings on African music. His bibliography excludes important recent works by Eric Charry, Thomas Turino, Thomas Hale, and--dare I be so bold?--myself. This may be because he doesn't read English. Tenaille also neglects to cite online sources. Websites like this one, rootsworld.com, mondomix.com, and others are really the answer to the impossible problem of writing the story about African music, because they can be updated and expanded endlessly. But they go unmentioned.

This is a highly-readable and informative introduction to a vast subject, enhanced by intriguing and evocative black-and-white photographs by Akwa Belote. For the moment, it may be the essential book for readers looking for the big picture in the Afropop story. Still, I maintain that the real richness in this subject and the great need in its literature lies not in overviews, but in the elaborated stories of individual styles, bands, and artists, many of whom deserve entire books of their own.

Contributed by: Banning Eyre