1938 年出生于奈及利亚的非洲节奏之王 Fela Kuti 自小便对正宗传统非洲音乐尊崇不已,经常会走上千里路去赶一场祭典.从那时开始, Fela 暗自立誓要为优美传统文化发扬光大. 1958 年远赴伦敦研读音乐课程,并和那里的同乡人组了个名为 Koola Lobitos 的爵士乐 / 敲击乐团. 1963 年乐团回到独立后的祖国继续演奏. 1970 年远征洛杉矶,以 Fela Ransom - Kuti & Nigeria 70 的新团名巡回表演 (他负责吹奏喇叭,后期加入键盘,萨克斯风的吹奏). 也就是在那儿, Fela 找到了属于自己独有的音乐节奏 : Afro-Beat,特殊的非洲节奏成为 Fela 的招牌,歌中他发展了黑人文化和非洲文化,鼓吹子民回归传统非洲文化的论调在当时备受瞩目,他在当地发行几张单曲有不错的回响. 1974 年 Fela 努力进行一项个人理念的“The Black President”革命 - 他将自家附近以围墙框住,成立一个自给自足的另类社区,此番理想像烟雾般迅速蔓延开来,掀起青年们的争相追崇 (甚至有 12, 13 岁的少年离家出走,原因只是为了追随 Fela) 和规范法律的大肆跶伐. 反抗 vs. 压制两方角力的结果,助长了 Fela 这位非洲节奏之王的声势,他的音乐更获得支持者的死忠膜拜,由他 1977 年在奈及利亚首都 Lagos 黑人艺术文化祭 (Festival for Black Arts & Culture) 演唱反战的 Zombie 一曲受到大批歌迷拥戴的场面便可知晓 ! 尽管 Fela 的理想国与 1979 年预竞选总统之路不断地遭受当地军警的破坏肆虐和骚扰 (甚至他与家人都受到人身攻击),他仍旧禀承自己的理念不认输,而不向强权威势低头的男儿本色,正是 Fela 日后被子民敬称“The Black President”的主因. 1984 年后,他和 79 人组成 Egypt 80 到欧美四处演唱,此举不但受到各地乐迷的喜爱,对于增进外人对非洲节奏 / 音乐 / 文化 / 民风的接受度更是功不可没 ! 1997 年 Fela 卒于爱滋,享年 59 岁.他的葬礼有数以万计的子民拥送护行,其影响不消赘述。 by John Dougan Its almost impossible to overstate the impact and importance of Fela Anikulapo (Ransome) Kuti (or just Fela as hes more commonly known) to the global musical village: producer, arranger, musician, political radical, outlaw. He was all that, as well as showman par excellence, inventor of Afro-beat, an unredeemable sexist, and a moody megalomaniac. His death on August 3, 1997 of complications from AIDS deeply affected musicians and fans internationally, as a musical and sociopolitical voice on a par with Bob Marley was silenced. A press release from the United Democratic Front of Nigeria on the occasion of Felas death noted: Those who knew you well were insistent that you could never compromise with the evil you had fought all your life. Even though made weak by time and fate, you remained strong in will and never abandoned your goal of a free, democratic, socialist Africa. This is as succinct a summation of Felas political agenda as one is likely to find. Born in Abeokuta, Nigeria, north of Lagos in 1938, Felas family was firmly middle class as well as politically active. His father was a pastor (and talented pianist), his mother active in the anti-colonial, anti-military, Nigerian home rule movement. So at an early age, Fela experienced politics and music in a seamless combination. His parents, however, were less interested in his becoming a musician and more interested in his becoming a doctor, so they packed him off to London in 1958 for what they assumed would be a medical education; instead, Fela registered at Trinity Colleges school of music. Tired of studying European composers, Fela formed his first band, Koola Lobitos, in 1961, and quickly became a fixture on the London club scene. He returned to Nigeria in 1963 and started another version of Koola Lobitos that was more influenced by the James Brown-style singing of Geraldo Pina from Sierra Leone. Combining this with elements of traditional high life and jazz, Fela dubbed this intensely rhythmic hybrid Afro-beat, partly as critique of African performers whom he felt had turned their backs on their African musical roots in order to emulate current American pop music trends. In 1969, Fela brought Koola Lobitos to Los Angeles to tour and record. They toured America for about eight months using Los Angeles as a home base. It was while in L.A. that Fela hooked up with a friend, Sandra Isidore, who introduced him to the writings and politics of Malcolm X, Eldridge Cleaver (and by extension the Black Panthers), and other proponents of Black nationalism and Afrocentrism. Impressed at what he read, Fela was politically revivified and decided that some changes were in order: first, the name of the band, as Koola Lobitos became Nigeria 70; second, the music would become more politically explicit and critical of the oppression of the powerless worldwide. After a disagreement with an unscrupulous promoter who turned them in to the Immigration and Naturalization Services, Fela and band were charged with working without work permits. Realizing that time was short before they were sent back to Nigeria, they were able to scrape together some money to record some new songs in L.A. What came to be known as the 69 Los Angeles Sessions were remarkable, an indication of a maturing sound and of the raucous, propulsive music that was to mark Felas career. Afrobeats combination of blaring horn sections, antiphonal vocals, Felas quasi-rapping pidgin English, and percolating guitars, all wrapped up in a smoldering groove (in the early days driven by the bands brilliant drummer Tony Allen) that could last nearly an hour, was an intoxicating sound. Once hooked, it was impossible to get enough. Upon returning to Nigeria, Fela founded a communal compound-cum-recording studio and rehearsal space he called the Kalakuta Republic, and a nightclub, the Shrine. It was during this time that he dropped his given middle name of Ransome which he said was a slave name, and took the name Anikulapo (meaning he who carries death in his pouch) . Playing constantly and recording at a ferocious pace, Fela and band (who were now called Africa 70) became huge stars in West Africa. His biggest fan base, however, was Nigerias poor. Because his music addressed issues important to the Nigerian underclass (specifically a military government that profited from political exploitation and disenfranchisement), Fela was more than a simply a pop star; like Bob Marley in Jamaica, he was the voice of Nigerias have-nots, a cultural rebel. This was something Nigerias military junta tried to nip in the bud, and from almost the moment he came back to Nigeria up until his death, Fela was hounded, jailed, harassed, and nearly killed by a government determined to silence him. In one of the most egregious acts of violence committed against him, 1,000 Nigerian soldiers attacked his Kalakuta compound in 1977 (the second government-sanctioned attack). Fela suffered a fractured skull as well as other broken bones; his 82-year old mother was thrown from an upstairs window, inflicting injuries that would later prove fatal. The soldiers set fire to the compound and prevented fire fighters from reaching the area. Felas recording studio, all his master tapes and musical instruments were destroyed. After the Kalakuta tragedy, Fela briefly lived in exile in Ghana, returning to Nigeria in 1978. In 1979 he formed his own political party, MOP (Movement of the People), and at the start of the new decade renamed his band Egypt 80. From 1980-1983, Nigeria was under civilian rule, and it was a relatively peaceful period for Fela, who recorded and toured non-stop. Military rule returned in 1983, and in 1984 Fela was sentenced to ten years in prison on charges of currency smuggling. He was freed in 1985. As the 80s ended, Fela recorded blistering attacks against Nigerias corrupt military government, as well as broadsides aimed at Margaret Thatcher and Ronald Reagan (most abrasively on the album Beasts of No Nation). Never what you would call progressive when it came to relationships with women or patriarchy in general (the fact was that he was sexist in the extreme, which is ironic when you consider that his mother was one of Nigerias early feminists), he was coming around to the struggles faced by African women, but only just barely. Stylistically speaking, Felas music didnt change much during this time, and much of what he recorded, while good, was not as blistering as some of the amazing music he made in the 70s. Still, when a Fela record appeared, it was always worth a listen. He was unusually quiet in the 90s, which may have had something to do with how ill he was; very little new music appeared, but in as great a series of reissues as the planet has ever seen, the London-based Sterns Africa label re-released some of his long unavailable records (including The 69 Los Angeles Sessions), and the seminal works of this remarkable musician were again filling up CD bins. He never broke big in the U.S. market, and its hard to imagine him having the same kind of posthumous profile that Marley does, but Felas 50-something releases offer up plenty of remarkable music, and a musical legacy that lives on in the person of his talented son Femi. Around the turn of the millennium, Universal began remastering and reissuing a goodly portion of Felas many recordings, finally making some of his most important work widely available to American listeners.