In the history of Nigerian music, no other figure possesses a mythos as powerful as Fela Anikulapo-Kuti. Of the myriad of hugely popular and trailblazing African artists of the twentieth century, the Afrobeat originator is arguably the most fascinating, confounding, and complex musical figure of that period. The Afrobeat pioneer’s story stands out for many reasons; between creating one of the most distinct and singular genres to emerge out of Africa, insidiously tackling the corrupt powers that be, and leading a heavily hedonistic lifestyle, Fela’s life has served as an unending wellspring for many to (attempt to) tell his story in varying forms.
Finding Fela, a documentary centred on the life and times of the artist, premiered at the 2014 Sundance Film Festival and was recently made available for free viewing for a limited one-week period last week, on the online documentary archival channel, Link TV. Co-produced and directed by prolific, Oscar-winning director Alex Gibney, Finding Fela is a sprawling, 2-hour long feature, largely aimed at intensifying the spotlight on Fela’s political activism, as an awe-inspiring introduction for previously unfamiliar audiences, and to further endear him to those already acquainted with his life story.
On the surface, it’s an interesting perspective considering how much of his time on earth was consumed and defined by loudly sticking it to corrupt military regimes, with severe consequences to match. However, as a wholesome examination of Fela’s life and a portrayal of his legacy, Finding Fela falls short, obsessing over his martyrdom while visibly inching away from fully exploring the complexities that made up the man. Initially conceived as an on-screen accompaniment to ‘FELA!’, the 2009 Broadway musical executive produced by Shawn Carter and Will Smith, the documentary constantly revels in the spectacle of Fela’s confrontational approach to socio-political issues, and the mystic he garnered from being a social dissident and defiant truth-teller.
Contextually speaking, it is impossible to divorce the mythos of Fela from the social, political, and economic condition of Nigeria in the ‘70s and ‘80s. Following the Nigerian civil war in the late ‘60s, the country entered into a prosperous period mainly due to the discovery and exportation of crude oil as Nigeria’s main earner. During those years of the oil boom, revenue inflow was abundant, but rather than heavily invest in building up infrastructure and creating a system to ensure national wealth that lasted for decades, the military regimes in those times were ultra-corrupt, recklessly looting and casually oppressing the majority of its citizens. By the ‘80s, due to the effect of the oil glut, Nigeria’s socio-economic conditions worsened significantly, perhaps reaching its lowest during a recession in 1984 under a familiar figure (the Military ruler, President Muhammadu Buhari of Nigeria).
Enlightened by his encounter with the Civil Rights movement during a brief, but quite tumultuous stay in the U.S. in the late ‘60s, Fela’s music and activism, following his initial years of making featherweight highlife-jazz with his first band Koola Lobitos, is indelibly linked to this period in Nigerian history. Finding Fela does a remarkable job of highlighting this bond, examining the push-and-pull between the government’s responses to his “incendiary” brand of music, and Fela’s increasing obstinacy and unyielding mentality, even after the infamous attack by “Unkown Soldiers” which led to the tragic passing of his mother, the late Mrs Funmilayo Ransome-Kuti. In these moments, Alex Gibney perfectly presents Fela as a rebel, but if you’re looking for anything deeper than the usual “Music is a weapon” shtick, this documentary is sorely lacking.
With testimonies from the now-deceased Africa ’70 drummer and bandleader Tony Allen, visual artist and close friend Lemi Ghariokwu, authorised Fela biographer, Carlos Moore, author of Fela: Life & Times of an African, Michael Veal, his most famous children, Femi, Seun and Yeni, and more, Finding Fela pulls in from a wide and apt range of sources. At that, the focus on deification means that Fela’s work as a musician and the fallible sides of his person are under-explored and handled shoddily.
Apart from Femi narrating how Fela ended up at the Trinity College of Music in London, the short 2-minutes detailing his synergy with Tony Allen, led by legendary drummer Questlove, and Michael Veal breaking down the difference between Africa ’70 and Egypt ’80, there isn’t much about Afrobeat as a creative landmark in all of music. If you’ve read any of the several biographies on Fela, there’s a heavy emphasis on him being a consummate artist and a composer with golden ears who demanded excellence from members of his band at all times. Too little of this makes its way into the doc, and it fragments several important details about Fela’s artistry, such as the way he ran his band with an iron hand, and the constant fiscal issues they suffered – several band members of Africa ’70 held day jobs at the height of Fela’s popularity, to supplement their earnings which often came in late. Tony Allen and a significant portion of the band left after the 1978 Berlin Jazz festival, after months of no pay and finding out that Fela planned on using the 6-figure payment to fund his presidential run.
In a similar manner, perhaps even more aggravating, details of Fela’s personal life are also fragmented to keep the veneration intact. In perhaps the wildest revelation of the doc, Femi and Yeni revealed that Fela insisted that his children address him by his name rather than “Dad” or any other variation, because he didn’t want it to seem like he was favouring his own children over the hundreds of people living in his commune, Kalakuta republic. Rather than using that as a cue to dig deeper into his parenting method – Fela infamously refused to let his children attend school since he detested western education –the doc finds a way to spin it into a sign of altruism. It was a missed moment to capture Fela’s complex character matrix, as someone who was a man of the people and also a terrible father, by most standards.
Of all the non-ideal traits Fela exhibited, none was more infamous than his hedonistic lifestyle, particularly marked by stories of his voracious sex appetite and his marriage to 27 women in one day. To live this lifestyle, Fela was openly misogynistic, cordoning women to the role of “helpmates” both on wax and off it. Of course, this was the ‘70s, and feminism wasn’t a welcome concept in these parts (it still isn’t but it’s more popular). At that, this part of Fela’s life is very unsettling, not really because he had so many sexual partners at once, but for the fact that several of them got involved with him while they were minors. No one’s disputing the role of the Kalakuta queens to the very fabric of Afrobeat, but there’s a predatory and paternalistic aspect that is always worth exploring when narrating Fela.
In the authorised biography, Fela: This Bitch of a Life, author Carlos Moore interviewed Fela’s wives, and about half a dozen admitted to being sexually involved with Fela from as young as their mid-teen years – from fifteen to sixteen. In FindingFela, none of this is acknowledged, rather it is side-stepped to focus on the “honour” he bestowed on them by hailing them as his queens. Choreographer and director of ‘FELA!’, Bill T. Jones, explains in the doc that he couldn’t fully explore this side of Fela in the musical, mainly because the times have changed and many in the audience would be experiencing the man for the first time in a theatre in Manhattan, New York. Alex Gibney does the same, very likely for the same reason.
Another reason why Finding Fela isn’t an entirely compelling watch, especially to audiences who are familiar with his life’s story and those seeking to know more beyond his status as a political activist, is the wealth of information about Fela that’s been made available to the public. Many long-form articles have been written, books have been published, and multiple documentaries about the man have been released, even dating as recent as BBC’s Fela: Father of Afrobeat from late last year. On a broader level, it begs the question of the fate of the stories of African music’s heroes, considering that very few have been able to corner the same level of obsessive attention Fela has garnered.
From What Happened, Miss Simone? to Amy and Beware of Mr. Baker, documentaries about iconic artists are full-on inquisitions that allow audiences to reckon with their inspirations as extremely talented individuals with their own quirks and traits, however undesirable. Finding Fela is far from a hagiography, but it clearly doesn’t dig deep enough. In a way, it portrays Fela as a bunch of ideas – mostly political – but people, even the most famous ones, are a lot more than a summation of their ideals.
It is widely known that African music has a documentation problem; many of our iconic figures’ stories are untold, and even when that happens, they aren’t always wholly represented. Finding Fela is a reminder of the dearth of these stories, not just as a pointer of the need to preserve, but also an example of why proper, critically tight documentation is urgent and important.
Dennis is a staff writer at the NATIVE. Let me know your favourite the Cavemen songs @dennisadepeter
Across the album’s 12 tracks, Luwa.Mp4 continues his fiery exploration and fusion of genres like Punk Rock,...
Rising singer and rapper Luwa.Mp4 has released his debut album titled ‘punKstA*.’ The underground star...
Rising singer and rapper Luwa.Mp4 has released his debut album titled ‘punKstA*.’ The underground star who has been on a release spree all year long, announced the imminent arrival of his debut only a couple of days ago with a cryptic trailer video and an Instagram caption that simply read ‘PUNKSTA* MONDAY.’
Before the arrival of ‘punKstA*,’ the rising fusion star had been showcasing his diligence and talent with a consistent output that has seen him put out over a dozen songs since the start of the year. A string of singles led to a 6-pack titled ‘lore skooL,’ while a deluxe version that housed 5 new songs came just a month later.
His debut album’s lead single, “pUNK FANTASY,” arrived in late July, setting the stage for what could prove to be a pivotal moment in the underground star’s burgeoning career.
Across the album’s 12 tracks, the eclectic singer continues his fiery exploration and fusion of genres like Punk Rock, Afropop, Hyperpop, and Rap into something uniquely different. Tracks like “Pure Water,” which was previously teased on Cruel Santino’s Subaru Live Stream, the abrasive, Tecno-influenced “pROMISED NEVERLAND,” and the more laidback “pEEp MY RIDE” put on display the sort of varied, autotune-soaked approach that has set him apart and helped carve a growing niche.
While Luwa decided to go solo on his debut, credited as the only recording artist, the album was brought to life by a cast of talented producers like frequent collaborator TOPSY, Emyboi, JTRN, 3CB, FVKK.ANDI and Jeremy Cartier.
The South African R&B star is at her most assertive on her first album in four years.
South African R&B and Pop singer Shekhinah has released a new surprise album titled ‘Less Trouble.’...
South African R&B and Pop singer Shekhinah has released a new surprise album titled ‘Less Trouble.’ The Durban star, who had been quiet for most of the year, took to social media shortly before midnight to share the new album’s cover, synopsis, and tracklist, simply stating, ‘If you’re seeing this my album LESS TROUBLE is out now at Midnight,’ in an Instagram caption.
The soulful singer first began teasing ‘Less Trouble,’ her first album in over four years, about a year ago when she released its lead single “Risk,” a bouncy Afropop-inspired collab with Ghanaian star MOLIY. A few months after the release of “Risk,” she put out “Steady,” a dreamy pop number that suggested that something bigger was on the horizon. But then it was largely radio silence about a project until its surprise arrival at midnight.
If 2021’s ‘Trouble In Paradise’ represented a coming-of-age for Shekhinah, subsisting some of the dreamy, youthful exuberance of her debut album for more measured musings on themes like heartbreak and grief, ‘Less Trouble’ finds her at her most assertive, writing and singing with the acuity of someone who is grown, decisive and discerning. The delicate opener “Break Up Season” sets the tone for the rest of the album as she shows little tolerance for shady behaviour and toxic patterns.
Other standout cuts on the album like “Bare Minimum,” a sombre collab with fellow South African award-winning singer lordkez, the ethereal, in-your-face interlude “New Casanova,” and the percussive “What Are We,” where Shekhinah contemplates the nature of a relationship but ultimately demands all or nothing, all drive home a part of the album’s synopsis, which reads ‘A BOOK ON MORE HEARTBREAK BUT LESS HEARTACHE.’
Shekhinah invites a couple of new collaborators on ‘Less Trouble,’ featuring the aforementioned MOLIY and lordkez as well as multi-instrumentalist Mars Baby and Young Stunna across the album’s 11 tracks. Mpilo Shabangu handled the majority of the album’s production, while other producers like Michael Morare, her longtime collaborator, Mthintheki Mzizi, and Vuyo also contributed to the album.
‘Black Star’ marks another evolutionary arc for Amaarae, and The NATIVE team offer our thoughts after a...
Change has always been a constant theme in any discussion about the career of Ghanaian-American star,...
Change has always been a constant theme in any discussion about the career of Ghanaian-American star, Amaarae. Since she emerged as a singular voice in the late 2010s, she has evolved from a sirenic Afropop-adjacent singer into a Punk-Pop firestarter with minimal fuss. ‘Fountain Baby,’ her 2023 sophomore album, was a sweeping departure from the lilting melodies and shapeshifing cadences of the hypnotic ‘The Angel You Don’t Know,’ emphasizing her commitment to charting new courses with her music.
In the lead-up to her new album, ‘Black Star,’ she has wholly embraced a Pop aesthetic and sheen that was reflected on the album’s promotional singles, “S.M.O.” and “Girlie-Pop!.” Now that the album has arrived, the singer has advised listeners not to go in expecting a continuation of the soundscape on ‘Fountain Baby.’ As keen followers of Amaarae’s career from its start, we are sure that ‘Black Star’ marks another evolutionary arc for her, and we offer our thoughts after a few listens.
WHAT WERE YOUR EXPECTATIONS OF AMAARAE GOING INTO THIS ALBUM?
Kemnachi: I had zero doubts that she would impress me again. Amaarae always comes correct. She is audacious with her choices, taking creative risks most artists would not dare to imagine, and somehow rendering them seamless, deliberate, and effortless. Her music has a way of enveloping me: it’s fluid, slightly dangerous, and yet irresistibly sensual. Every project feels like an immersive world she has curated down to the finest detail. With ‘Black Star,’ I knew it was not going to be a mere collection of songs but another meticulously constructed realm.
Bamise: I expected something fun, genre-bending, and sonically diverse in the fashion that Amaarae’s music typically is. I may have taken the album title a bit too literally, though, because listening made me realise I had an eye out for some Pan-African statements or something to spark discourse on African identity, but I didn’t quite catch any of that.
Boluwatife: Amaarae has largely delivered throughout her career, so I knew she was going to come correct again. She’s one of those forward-thinking artists who take the kind of risks most others wouldn’t, but she always manages to make it work. She’s proven to be a musical omnivore who constantly meshes her wide-ranging influences into something new, fluid, icy, and more often than not, sensual. I knew ‘Black Star’ wasn’t going to be any different.
WHAT SONGS STOOD OUT ON THE FIRST LISTEN?
Wale: I liked “Girlie-Pop!.” I feel like it captures Amaarae’s vision of pushing Afropop into the future. She’s also really grown comfortable with music and lyricism and will not dumb down her message for anybody. The instrumental for “Girlie-Pop!” is also a wonder; it’s so dense, but there are pockets for Amaarae to be emotive about her feelings. Top song!
Daniel Akins: I need to hear “B2B” at the next rave I’m at. Amaarae is in her Dance era, and I’m here for it. Kiss Me Thru The Phone pt 2” with PinkPantheress is the collaboration I knew I needed, and I’m glad they finally linked up. It’s a clear standout on the project; their ethereal style complements each other.
Shina: “B2B” was the one that did it for me. That is my favourite track on the project. The number of times I ran it back was unhealthy for a first listen. It was also really fun to catch the Don Toliver “Best You Had” sample. I need to hear this outside!
HOW WELL YOU THINK THE GUEST APPEARANCES ENHANCED THE LISTENING EXPERIENCE?
Israel: The guest features on Black Star aren’t mere flexes. They’re strategic, theatrical, and sometimes emotionally resonant. They enhance, yes, but they do so on Amaarae’s terms. A standout for me was PinkPantheress on “Kiss Me Thru The Phone pt 2.” The tradeoff is that a few songs feel like dazzling cameos rather than an integrated conversation, yet overall they enhance the album’s drama, texture, and bravado with precision.
Daniel Banjoko: Everyone showed up and delivered, no weak links here. Instead of just guest spots, they felt like vital pieces of a bigger puzzle. Charlie Wilson on “Dream Scenario” nailed his part especially, making the track sound exactly like its name promises.
Moore: The guest appearances on ‘Black Star’ feel very intentional; each one enhances the album’s world without overshadowing Amaarae’s vision. PinkPantheress’s signature airy delivery meshes with Amaarae’s experimental pop sound. Naomi Campbell’s commanding voice on “ms60” is an unexpected but powerful addition, adding drama to the track. Each feature feels carefully chosen.
WHAT SONG IS THE BIGGEST SKIP?
Bamise: Not to be a party pooper, but I don’t get the PinkPantheress collab, “Kiss Me Thru The Phone pt 2.” It feels like a PinkPantheress song with less pop in it, and just borrows the title of the iconic Soulja Boy song but has no other similarities. It’s between that and “ms60.” For me, the chorus of that sounds like something I’ve heard from Amaarae before, and I doubt its absence would have diminished the album.
Shina: I feel like biggest skip is a strong word for a solid project, but if I have to pick a song to skip, it’ll be “ms60.” I think it’s easily forgettable.
Wale: It’s hard to single out a song that stuck out to me, but hearing Naomi Campbell on “ms60” threw me off. It’s just too contrived to bear for me.
WHAT SONG HAS THE BIGGEST HIT POTENTIAL?
Boluwatife: My gut answer would probably be “She Is My Drug,” just because of how she beautifully reworks the melodies from Cher’s “Believe.” DJ remixes of this song could go crazy. But if I were to think a bit more logically, TikTok would probably lap up “Kiss Me Thru The Phone pt 2.”
Daniel Banjoko: “Kiss Me Thru the Phone pt 2” goes crazy. Amaarae and PinkPantheress are the perfect match. This collab feels like it was destined to happen, and it delivers in full. Honestly, I can’t believe it took this long, and now I just need more tracks from these two, ASAP.
Moore: “Kiss Me Thru The Phone pt 2” has the biggest hit potential on the album. The song has a nostalgic, sad party girl vibe that makes it appealing, and it’s also catchy and well-produced. PinkPantheress consistently performs well on platforms like TikTok, and her fanbase overlaps in a really interesting way with Amaarae’s. The collaboration feels organic and exciting, and will likely create a lot of buzz.
OVERALL FIRST IMPRESSIONS
Wale: There is a very visceral quality to how Amaarae expresses desire that I don’t hear very often in a lot of music. It’s abstracted and warped in futuristic textures, but it’s very profoundly human, and it’s always great to hear that even as she advances the sonics of her delivery. I do, however, have an issue with the thematic scope of ‘Black Star.’ I thought there would be overt references to her experiences of navigating her Ghanaian identity, but those references are limited to samples and interpolations. It’s still an incisive listen and a triumph for finding ways to advance music from Africa.
Bamise: It’s Amaarae; she can never go wrong. But for me, this is the album that excites me the least from her catalogue. Other than how bass-heavy some songs on the album are, like “S.M.O.” and “She Is My Drug” among others, it feels similar to other projects I’ve heard from her in a way that’s not exactly refreshing or mind-bending. I may have gotten spoiled by how diverse and eclectic Amaarae’s music tends to be, but I wanted more from her. I expected more gangster, Hip-Hop Amaarae. Thematically, I didn’t get anything that gives the Black Star of Ghana, or black stars are ruling the world. Will I listen again and enjoy every bit of it still, though? Yes, I will.
Shina: So first off, this is a solid body of work. I love the fact that Amaarae stuck with the Dance, Electro-Pop route she was going with throughout the album. The features also played their part, adding their unique touches to each record. I would say, though, a feature I would’ve loved to hear on this project is 070Shake. I think she would have been perfect on “100DRUM,” but we don’t always get what we want, do we? Thematically, I think Amaarae could’ve leaned heavily on her Ghanaian heritage, seeing as the title and cover of the album are a nod to that. Maybe Amaarae just wants us to dance, and that’s what I’m just gonna do, and you should too.