By 1970, Nigeria was in the midst of a radical political, economic, and social transformation. An economic boom resultant from the discovery of rich oil reserves in the Niger river delta had turned Lagos into a rapidly growing metropolitan center for the region, while graft and corruption had a chokehold on the political scene. Although Nigeria, a new OPEC member, was growing wealth on paper as oil production revenue flowed into the country, that wealth was ultimately held by a few, while the expanding population suffered. Military rule, a legacy of the Biafran War (a civil war fought over the secession of the Southeastern region of Biafra), meant a total absence of democracy and fiscal policies that undermined economic stability.
All of this strife, corruption, and money usually means the same thing no matter where one resides -- people will be pissed off about the terrible state of affairs. Seeing money and growth in your country, yet no benefits for you and your family begets dissent and anger. Since those who are disenfranchised often have no real organized political voice, they find alternate means to rebel. Music is often that voice, and in 1970s Lagos it was used in a truly revolutionary manner.
The musical period's main name Fela Kuti got his start in the 1960s, as a whole host of sounds -- including Yoruba percussion, Igbo, Highlife, calypso, jazz, juju, and funk -- sautéed together into an influential entrée we now know as Afrobeat. Nigeria 70, being reissued eight years after it was released as a three-disc box set, has been the most prominent compilation documenting the height and origin of funk and jazz in Afrobeat. Many compilations have come since Nigeria 70, but none have been able to supplant its status as the best and most-well rounded snap-shot of Africa in the 70s. And it is no coincidence that the name of the comp is derivative, at least partially, from Kuti’s backup band.
Part of what defines Afrobeat are the complex drum rhythms that descend from Ghana, among other places. Yet to a casual listener, the steady, repetitive nature of the beat superimposed over big band sounds is most evident. Horns blasting in a call-and-response style break into extended, jazzy solos that stretch track lengths beyond eight minutes. Each horn or guitar line sounds much more like Charlie Mingus or Sun Ra than popular American funk of the 1970s. Afrobeat, in its funkiness, is more intelligent and determined than the funk of Cameo or the Ohio Players.
So don’t be fooled by the title; this is not another party-funk comp with “Brick House,” “Fire,” and “Lady Marmalade” queued up to get your guests moving to a familiar beat and chorus. Unless you have the music cognoscenti on the invitation list, this will not be the funk compilation you put on to get your wedding party rolling. These “funk” tracks are for listeners who don’t mind that they can’t understand the lyrics. You have to feel your way through each song, and understanding that there are serious themes of political oppression under-pinning the genre goes a long way towards fleshing out the sounds.
Indeed, the Afrobeat on Nigeria 70 is more sophisticated than popular funk, but that doesn’t mean it's not hot as hell. The tracks are still fresh and truly hype, and Afrobeat virgins will likely pour over them repeatedly, investigating the intricate rhythms. For instance, the beats that open Tony Allen's “No Discrimination” are in tricky signatures that usher in a clever bass line, weaving its way around some sly guitar and subtle vocal scatting. The fuzzed-out guitar notes at the beginning of Ofo's “Allah Wakbarr” explode at 0:45 into a raucous and raunchy chorale that’s as gritty as you might imagine Lagos around 10:00 PM. You can contrast that with the ridiculous pop-synthesizer sound of Bongos Ikwue to get a grasp of how wide-reaching the Lagos scene was. There’s a lot of ground to be covered for sure, and this compilation does a good job of showing the breadth of Lagos’s sound while still keeping a thread running through it all.
Many of the tracks are in the pocket, locking into grooves that allow the big bands plenty of room to explore and show off their skills as individuals, without having any member overshadowing the whole deal. “Enjoy Yourself” is a good example. The message -- enjoy yourself despite your poverty and oppression -- is never lost behind the rolling, syncopated beat. Putting these tunes in context makes them that much more powerful, because on the surface they are simply some of the best Afrobeat tracks ever made. Beneath that surface is a galloping tide of political messages that tie together the grim state of 1970s Nigeria with the modern sound of Afrobeat, a sound that has since percolated into the American mainstream. Nigeria 70 is simply an indispensable addition to any music collection.
Disc 1:
1. Ololufe Mi (My Lover) - Koola Lobitos
2. Tire Loma Da Nigbehin – Monomono
3. Chant To Mother Earth – BLO
4. Jeun Ko Ku (Chop 'n' Quench) - Fela Kuti & The Africa 70
5. Ifa - Tunji Oyelana & The Benders
6. Ikon Allah - Bala Miller & The Great Music Pirameeds Of Afrika
7. La La La - Segun Bucknor & His Revolution
8. Shango - Peter King
9. No Discrimination - Tony Allen & His Afro Messengers
10. Akayan Ekassa - Sir Victor Uwaifo
11. Better Change Your Mind - William Onyeabor
12. Woman Made The Devil - Bongos Ikwue
Disc 2:
1. Alo Mi Alo (Parts 1 And 2) - Orlando Julius Ekemode
2. Allah Wakbarr - Ofo The Black Company
3. Enjoy Yourself - Sahara All Stars Band Jos
4. Dancing time - The Funkees
5. The Quest - Afro Cult Foundation
6. Greetings - Joni Haastrup
7. Kita Kita - Gaspel Lawal
8. Orere Elejigbo - The Lijadu Sisters
9. Upside Down - Fela Anikulapo Kuti And The Africa 70 featuring Sandra Akanke Isidore
10. Agboju Logun - Shina Williams & His African Percussionists
11. Ja Fun Mi (Instrumental) - King Sunny Ade & His African Beats
