Funky Femi
Femi Kuti is the new king of Afro-pop.
By Scott Jordan
WHO: Femi Anikulapo-Kuti & the Positive Force of Nigeria
WHEN: 3:20 p.m. Sunday, April 29
WHERE: Congo Square Stage
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Throughout his career, Femi Anikulapo-Kuti has followed his heart, regardless of the consequences.
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It’s 1 a.m. in New Orleans, and Femi Kuti is just waking up at 8 a.m. in Paris. “I forgot you were calling,” he says, “and I thought it was someone calling about a problem with my visa.”
His initial reaction is understandable. It’s only two weeks before the 38-year-old Nigerian king of Afro-pop is scheduled for his Jazz Fest debut, and he hasn’t received his work visa yet. But in Kuti’s world, if the authorities are only calling about his visa status, he can breathe a sigh of relief. As the son of the late legendary African musician and activist Fela Anikulapo-Kuti, Femi knows the dark possibilities of early-morning phone calls. His father was routinely beaten, arrested and jailed by the Nigerian military for speaking out against the government through his music, and Femi’s grandmother died after being thrown out of a second-story window by soldiers who raided the Kuti compound in Lagos. For Femi, the truism “like father, like son” carries equal parts joy and danger — he’s been in self-imposed exile in Paris for the past four months.
“I suspect a bomb was planted in my bathroom [in Nigeria],” says Kuti. “Everyone said it was just a wrong wire, but I think it was a threat on my life. I think it’s very unsafe for me right now. It’s definitely not safe. I’m caught in a horrible situation. The good thing is, I have my music.”
Kuti has been working on the follow-up album to his 1999 debut CD, Shoki Shoki. That album ushered in a new chapter of Afro-pop, with Kuti bringing in contemporary influences such as house and hip-hop beats, and allowing the Roots to remix the song “Blackman Know Yourself.” A familiar mix of jazz sensibilities, funky guitar lines, pumping horn lines and African percussion remains the core of the sound, but Femi has streamlined those touchstones, forsaking 20-minute improvisation for driving dance tracks.
“I write songs to play 15 minutes on stage, but not on the album,” says Kuti. “I think everyone was anxious at first to see if I was going to be Afro-pop. The vibration is still in me. It’s still there, now it’s powerful and shortened.”
While Femi’s persona is not as confrontational and militant as his father’s, he hasn’t turned a blind eye to the problems of his homeland. Songs like “Victim of Life” and “Sorry Sorry” are indictments of the Nigerian government and police — but Kuti doesn’t relish writing and singing them.
“I don’t want to sing sad songs,” he says. “I wish everything was OK. But these things are really happening. This [new] album is very political, too. Maybe it has more hope than Shoki Shoki has, maybe it’s a little more about personal things.”
That’s no guarantee that Kuti’s forthcoming effort — tentatively titled The Choice Is Yours — still won’t incur the wrath of his detractors in Nigeria. One of Shoki Shoki’s deliciously upbeat moments, the sexual paean “Beng Beng Beng,” was banned from radio for being too explicit, despite being mild compared to contemporary hip-hop lyrics. “First they say I am too political,” Kuti says with exasperation, “and then I sing a love song, and I still get into trouble.”
Kuti has followed his heart regardless of the consequences — even when it alienated his father. Fela Kuti allowed his son to start playing with his band Egypt 80 when Femi was only 15, and ultimately asked Femi to take over the band. When Femi declined and started his own band, Positive Force, his father didn’t speak to him for five years (the pair reconciled before Fela’s death in 1997). “I knew that I already had his music in me, and I had to break away,” says Kuti.
Now the younger Kuti is forging his own personal and musical path, with his father’s legacy and message close at heart. “My father was a genius,” he says. “I think the most important lesson I learned from him was to always look for a new path, and always compose something different. The best advice he gave me was to always look for a new way. It made me cry, it made me hate him sometimes. But now I’m always conscious about looking for new things.”
That includes searching for the silver lining of dealing with Immigration. “America is fine and I love touring, except for the trouble of always having to get visas,” he says. “Keep your fingers crossed. Hopefully before you can say my name, I’ll be there.”
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