Showing posts with label Aaron Neville. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Aaron Neville. Show all posts

Friday, January 28, 2011

Big-Band Blasts from the Funky Past: Chopteeth Unleashes the Live Power of Africa’s Golden Age

Chopteeth high res
Bursting with old-school big band power, Afrobeat crew Chopteeth know how to turn skeptical foot-tappers into shirt-whirling, wolf-whistling believers. The group regularly fills DC’s dance floors with nostalgic African fans and American-born converts to the style exemplified by the now revered Fela Kuti. They’ve supported diverse acts from Aaron Neville to Gov’t Mule, from Konono No. 1 to Sierra Leone’s Refugee All Stars.

Chopteeth Live captures that full-on energy, with a heavy-hitting horn section, layers of irresistibly catchy interlocking percussion, and carefully crafted takes on African pop classics.

Chopteeth Live CD Cover HI-RESFor Chopteeth, even a seeming straightforward live album became a deep exercise in tracing musical lineages. Over many sweaty gigs, the band honed a late Fela piece of fugue-like complexity (“Question Jam Answer”) and spent months calling Nigeria to find an unsung master of African funk. They dug through record store bins, trolled the internet, and mined the vinyl of die-hard African record buffs to find lo-fi and neglected gems.

These gems harken back to the golden age of African pop, the 1970s. In rough-and-ready studios, musicians laid down heady mixes of James Brown-inspired funk, complex chord changes, and local rhythms. They reacted to soul and rumba, to jazz and rock, to harsh political realities and deep roots. Though some musicians of this generation rose to international prominence, many languished, only recently rediscovered by dedicated African music fans, labels, and collectors.

Chopteeth’s discoveries, presented with passion on stage, point to several major figures, forgotten in the recent Fela craze on and off Broadway, who were instrumental in shaping what came to be known as Afrobeat. One striking example, Nigerian jazz player Peter King, had a show so hot back in the day that it rivaled even Fela’s own. Once celebrated, King receded from the international spotlight after his early 70s heyday.

Chopteeth loved King’s tune “Freedom Dance,” a funky vamp on a compelling jazz chord progression that was a blast to play live. When they captured a live version for the album, though, they knew they had to track King down. What began as a simple exercise in copyright clearance became a multi-continent hunt for the forgotten icon.

After a month’s worth of calls to Nigeria, Chopteeth bassist Robert Fox finally connected with King on the phone. “I told him who we were and that we wanted to do a version of his song, and to arrange permission and payment,” Fox recalls. “He was really cool about it. It was an honor for us, to get his blessing, and give him the due he deserves.”

The album gives many other artists their due, from Guinea (“Festival”) to Senegal (“Jiin Ma Jiin Ma”) to Congo (“Gagne Perdu”), showing the musical and geographic sweep that characterizes Chopteeth’s live shows. Their versatility and energy have won them a wildly devoted local fanbase—and garnered them six Wammies (the DC answer to the Grammies®), including Artist of the Year. Their debut studio CD Chopteeth helped build this following, thanks to trans-African originals that eclectically combined the wealth of African pop with upbeat lyrics in multiple languages.

Two years went by, and it was time to capture the band’s live vibe, the heavy-duty intensity of a good old big band, something increasingly rare in this age of mp3s and streaming files. “The truth is people don’t often hear big bands playing dance music live anymore,” muses Fox. “You hear a song like Fela’s ‘J.J.D.’ in person, and it just feels different. It’s a shocking experience for the audience.”

The audience at the Duke Ellington Jazz Festival, for example, barely knew what hit them. The band decided to tackle a little-known Ellington tune, “Didjeridoo,” after they were invited to play at the DC celebration of its iconic native son.

Chopteeth had a unique take on the composition, created after Ellington toured Africa in the 60s as a musical ambassador. They had a feel for the musical roots that inspired the elegant piece. Trombonist Craig Considine whipped out his circular breathing chops to simulate the drone of a didjeridoo, while the group’s baritone sax player Trevor Specht stalked the piece’s elusive final note.

“There’s a low A note that some saxes get and some don’t,” explains Michael Shereikis with a laugh. “If your horn doesn’t go there, you can stuff something in the bell. Mark Gilbert, our tenor sax player, stuffed his big fist into the horn of the baritone sax to get that low note. They practiced in the dressing room and it worked. It made quite the impression on stage.”

And, like all of Chopteeth’s prime live cuts, makes for an equally striking impression on record.

***

“A storming powerhouse of big-band African funk, Chopteeth is smart, tight and relentlessly driving. Their live shows have been known to make even the most motionless of concert-watchers flail their limbs and do something that resembles dancing. Only the most determined stoics will be able to resist the grooves conjured up by Chopteeth.”  —Washington Post

“Afrofunk with lunatic energy”—National Public Radio

“It’s as if Tower of Power resurrected as Afrofunk.” —The Albuquerque Journal

Wednesday, February 10, 2010

Video Wednesday:

Our Video this week is in honor of the New Orlean's Saints win in the Superbowl.  It features Theresa Andersson, Aaron Neville and Carlo Nuccio (the creator of the original "Who Dat" song.)  

Friday, August 22, 2008

SIMPLY SIX: Kelsey Waite

Kelsey is from the Louisiana/Mississippi/Tennessee areas. She seems to move around a bit. Kelsey is at the start of her musical career and I hope music is the career she decides to jump into. She has one of those voices that reaches out and grabs me by the throat right away. There is a rawness to her sound, her voice sounds a lot more lived in that her young twenty early years. I think she is someone that big things are ahead of.

1. For many artists, they cite a defining moment for themselves when they knew they wanted to be a singer. For many it was the appearance of Elvis on the Ed Sullivan show, to another generation it was the Beatles’ appearance on Sullivan half a decade later. Is there such a defining moment for you?

I don't remember an exact moment. I grew up singing along to whatever was on, which was often Van Morrison or Alison Krauss, sometimes Queen or the Eagles. My mother loved Aaron Neville. Certainly music had a profound effect on me at an early age. Thanks to too much CMT, I wanted to be a “country star” from about the time I was 6 on up to 13 or so. But then I wanted to be a soccer star for a while; at some point a dancer/pop star; I fell in love with the French language for a stint. Someone gave me a Lucinda Williams record when I was about 17, and not until I got around to listening to it about a year later did my world completely change. So maybe that’s my moment, maybe that was the major seed.


2. When you’re not creating music what are you listening to? Who are some of your favorites?

My listening habits are always evolving. The staples besides Lu are of course Van Morrison, Dylan, Patti Smith, Leonard Cohen, Bobbie Gentry, Neko Case. I listen to a lot of blues too. Lightnin’ Hopkins, John Lee Hooker, Junior Kimbrough, Slim Harpo, Memphis Minnie. I am moved by such a diversity of artists, from Chet Baker to X. And lately I cannot stop listening to the London Philharmonic do Bizet’s Carmen.
The form of singer-songwriter seems to have most informed my own style, though, and some of my favorites aren’t as well known: Victoria Williams, Kevin Gordon, Pieta Brown.
The high school marching band that practices nearby has almost got “When The Saints Go Marching In” down. It’s kind of my favorite to hear them throughout the day.


3. What would you say is your greatest moment so far as an artist, either on record or live?

It’s hard to say. I think there have been a handful of moments where I’m completely inside of whatever it is I’m doing … when a melody or a phrase buds and blossoms, when I know I’m living poetry/music. It’s usually most intense when performing live.


4. Do you believe music can change the world or is just something to listen to? How much can music influence current events?

Music can happen at the intersection of intellect and emotion, and it has a physical presence—in dance, for example. I can’t think of much else with such power, that can engage us so wholly.
The majority of what we’re getting on the radio is commercially driven and spoon-fed to us, and I think that it’s reflected in the form and non/activity of our society. From another angle, the position of underground artists and the flow of listeners into that realm absolutely have material, political, and cultural effects. Think of original rock ‘n roll and the social upheaval that occurred when young white America realized they identified with and would rather hear black music. Cover artists and the appropriation of that sound for particular audiences, all the events surrounding those artists and businesses.
Music can absolutely change the world. It has and is now.


5. How has technology affected the music industry? How has technology affected your career as a musician?

There are aesthetic effects like instrumentation and sound. Rural blues to electric blues, electric blues and folk to rock ‘n roll. Then there are the various mediums—vinyl, tape, cd, mp3. I think they all have bad and good points to them.
I don’t know if I’d call my relationship to music a career (ha). But I think most artists have been strongly affected by the internet. Through several different sites, but MySpace especially, we can reach so far beyond what we could normally. I can be fatally shy, and no one really ever heard me sing until MySpace. Then I got contacted through the site to play one of my first gigs, etc. Gear-wise, had it not been for the smaller USB mixer and studio mic I bought (on the internet), I wouldn’t be able to record and play around like I do.
On a larger scale, because of technology we are in a huge transition into, I think, an unpredictable music scene … it’ll be interesting. What happens might be horrifying; it might be beautiful.


6. Now for my Barbara Walters question: If you were a pair of shoes what type of shoes would you be?

This is a hard one! I used to wear boots a lot, but not so much lately, since it’s too hot around here. I think I’d be something simple, maybe a hot pair of black suede casual/athletic shoes. Definitely something comfortable but stylish and understated. But I don’t know. Some days I feel completely different. I think I’d need a few different pairs.