Alèmayèhu Eshèté
Ethiopiques Volume 9 (Buda Musique)
Blo
Phases 1972-1982 (AfroStrut)
A recent flood of reissues has shed much-needed light on a lost universe of unheard music from decades past. These discs prove that the pop music revolution of the 1960s was far-reaching indeed; it seems that no corner of the globe was untouched by its impact. The much-celebrated “Love, Peace, and Poetry” series has helped excavate ’60s garage-rock gems from Asia and South America, while legendary groups like Germany’s Faust, Brazil’s Os Mutantes, and Switzerland’s LiLiPUT have all seen the bulk of their catalogues rereleased to a fascinated public. This month, the work of two African R&B legends—the Nigerian group Blo and Ethiopian singer Alèmayèhu Eshèté—has been uncovered, and as with all new discoveries, the thrill proves vastly rewarding.
The spectacular Ethiopiques series, which chronicles the complete output of Ethiopia’s Amha label, is up to nine volumes, and with each installment, it only grows in quality and scope. Almost completely unknown to Western listeners until now, this music represents a spectacular yet brief period in Ethiopian history, from 1969 until the overthrow of Emperor Haile Selassie in 1974, when the trappings of modernity—from rock ’n’ roll to bell-bottom jeans—created a cultural revolution among the country’s younger generation.
At the center of this upheaval was the pop singer Alèmayèhu Eshèté, whose first two 45s were the initial releases on the Amha label. Dubbed the “Abyssinian Elvis,” he was a hero to the youths of Addis Ababa. But as I sit and listen to Ethiopiques Volume 9, which features most of the sides he recorded for Amha, I can’t help but be reminded of Harry Smith’s Anthology of American Folk Music. Not because the music sounds at all similar, but because I get the same uplifting thrill—of unearthing something raw and unknown, yet conscious of its own vitality.
Eshèté was a spectacular vocalist; his voice trails around the melody like a snake, with a chilling vibrato. As with all previous volumes of the Ethiopiques series, the greatest reward is listening to these musicians, whoever they were, synthesize such a unique sonic brew out of disparate Western influences and native textures. But it’s not as if you can pin down a reference point, as in, “Oh, this sounds a lot like....” One song might have the feel of a Curtis Mayfield ballad, and another might recall the Elvis of “Jailhouse Rock” or perhaps a one-chord James Brown workout, but the minor-key melodies and the tumbling, circular rhythms are the echoes of traditional Ethiopia.
There’s also something slightly unhinged and surreal about the arrangements: The trance-like drum and bass patterns anchor the proceedings, with intricate horn lines at the forefront augmented by occasional blasts of fuzzed guitar. All the while, Eshèté’s mournful wail keeps the listener enthralled. Truly, the music of Eshèté and the other artists profiled in the Ethiopiques series is unlike any other, and thus still sounds fresh even to jaded modern ears.
The Nigerian funk outfit Blo took a more predictable approach to marrying Western and African sounds, but nonetheless created some rewarding music in the process. The trio found its origins in the same AfroBeat scene that produced Fela Kuti, and they cut their teeth playing with ex-Cream drummer Ginger Baker, who had ventured to Nigeria in the early ’70s and spent a good deal of time jamming with musicians in Lagos. Out of these impromptu sessions came a group named Salt, comprising Baker and three musicians who would later form Blo: guitarist Berkley Jones, drummer Laolu Akintobi, and bassist Mike Odumosu.
Phases chronicles the highlights of Blo’s career, from their genesis in 1972 until their demise a decade later. Unlike Kuti and other progenitors of AfroBeat, the group was less concerned with creating a uniquely African music as with mastering the American funk and acid-rock they so obviously revered. The first few tracks show a band immersed in the school of the snare-tight groove, with the interlocking bass and drums fighting for time with wild, psychedelic guitar lines. The airy “Miss Sagit” actually brings to mind the sparser moments of German prog-rock band Can, in that the music is both entrancing and unobtrusive.
As Blo’s career progressed, the influence of groups like the Isley Brothers and Sly and the Family Stone became more prominent. As with any other great jam unit, their songs are basically frameworks for supreme instrumental workouts: layers of tribal percussion propelled by a solid rhythm section and chunky guitar, with a mantra-like chorus serving as the hook.
The reissues of Eshèté and Blo prove that great music from foreign lands can eventually find friendly outsider ears, even if it takes decades. AfroStrut, the label responsible for the Blo compilation, has proven its dedication to reviving lost classics of African soul; last year, it reissued Nigerian bandleader (and former Nashville resident) Orlando Julius’ forgotten 1966 album Super Afro Soul, which is said to have had an impact on James Brown at the time. Meanwhile, the Ethiopiques series promises to stretch to 15 volumes, ensuring that the legacy of the Amha label and artists like Eshèté aren’t consigned to ancient memory. Though it may be 30 years old, this is music rich in life and history, music that deserves the wider hearing it’s finally receiving.
