Manu Dibango

A huge document in African music, of a figure who has spanned generations:
This is the 3-CD set also called Longbox Manu Dibango. These tracks have all gone through hi-def remasters. Even when you see the positive reviews for this set in world music publications, you might at first react a bit ungenerously, the way I did. Manu Dibango has done a lot of recordings over the years, and at times has sounded very uneven. A 3 CD set edited by the Makossa King himself just might be overkill. But WOW! I couldn't have been more WRONG! This set is stocked full of utterly infectious music, and even better, it offers the listener a major rhythmic education. There's a good reason Manu Dibango is a diplomatic artist-ambassador for all sorts of official causes. His career was the continent's eye of the storm -- just as the cover artwork is suggesting. He has been the ebb and flow behind a number of stylistic currents in African musical performance. Manu Dibango's critics tend to ask, "Is he really African?" They cite his more mediocre cuts that made it to the airwaves over the years. He's frequently assumed to be nothing more than a sort of blandly assimilated pop figure, and perhaps only an average performer on soprano sax. But he has had two enormous and very consistent talents. First, he has always sounded phenomenal as a vocalist, singing with a formidable range that I'm sure was respected by everyone from Milton Nascimento to Barry White over the years. More important, he is an incomparable 'journalist' of the music of his era. He seems to have thought very deeply about every conceivable Afro-Cuban act he heard. He deeply assimilated the musical roots and trends criss-crossing the entire empire of the Afro-Cuban diaspora -- not just musicians from Cameroun, but ones out of America, from the Caribbean, in France, as well as up and down the African coast. The songs he is leaving behind reworked all of those influences, and did so in the most fluid and protean ways. What is more, he also kept it all anchored in the regional flavors of Cameroun. A walkthrough of this collection is the only way to convey what's going on in his music. Disc 1 Even though it documents only the early phase of his career, more than half of the tracks on the first disc are absolute gems. The opener, 'Nago Nago' (1962), highlights the overlap between Douala chant and Yoruba chant in Cuba, and offers up Munequitos de Matanza-style rumba, with clave and vibes overlay. 1965's 'Kara Kara' and 'Kamulango' evidence the strong influence that playing for Grand Kalle had on him. These two tracks have some of the smoothest Congolese rumba sounds you'll ever hear, and you'll catch that he had the Cuban lingo down pretty well too ('EE-va!'). Meanwhile, 'La coupe des tropiques' from the same year is a lively digression into Jamaican mento, Trini calypso, and Haitian compas. On 1967's 'Soma Loba', he stirs up a deliciously-mellow mento (and gives you evidence of the strong tie-in between Jamaican music, Cuban son and Douala spoken-word verse). 'Lily' is even more intriguing -- starting with a laid-back flute + strings cha cha, then mashing it up with a JB's and Temptations-era R & B groove. 'Biso' somehow finds a happy marriage between a ballroom rumba that's halfway to bossa, and a Ray Charles-inspired Hammond organ 'Summertime', and then the song moves unnoticed into Booker T. and Maceo territory, with a blistering tenor sax solo. 1968's 'Cha Cha Nana' melds Perez Prado's mambo 'HUH!' with the deeper, harder bugalu funk that was definitely stirring on the New York scene (think Ray Barretto or Chocolate). 1967's 'Ngolowake' and 'Senga' kick the makossa craze into gear. There's a fine line between Cameroun's makossas and Nigeria's juju. It comes down to prominent brass charts, but with Manu as the popularizer of the makossa (as you'll hear for yourself on 'Senga' and other tracks) it's hard to believe that the makossa brass sound didn't arise from Manu's embrace of the Maceo Parker sound, and that the deep Douala/Yoruba chant wasn't an echo of James Brown himself. The heavy, unforgettable groove of 'Senga' is bari and tenor sax stacked on a frantic clave. There are really fertile moments in 'Dikalo' too, like a mystery make of organ that remains absolutely contemporary for 2008, and A LOT of turntable-ready breaks. (Where can you hear more from the unsung drummer on that session!?) Just wait! It gets even juicier! 'Hot Chicken', also from 1967, is the sweet spot: Booker T.'s 'Slim Jenkins' Place' (piano, percussion and guitar) versus Steppenwolf's 'Magic Carpet Ride' (fuzzbox guitar) versus Quincy Jones' 'Sanford & Son' (organ and sax)! *Disc 2* The second disc runs through the mid-1970s. It wades deep into funk territory -- and still these tracks haven't aged at all. 1972's 'Hibiscus' meshes sounds ranging from Buffalo Springfield to Jan Garbarek, and there's a beautiful, bell-like guitar back in the mix that Morcheeba sampled on 1998's 'The Sea' (off 'Big Calm'). The song fades to the sound of a synth run that is sheer magic. 'Walking to Waza' has a buried organ referencing Edwin Starr's '25 Miles to Go', but it remakes Mongo Santamaria's 1959 classic 'Afro-Blue', with a bassy Stratocaster rhythm guitar and Tito Puente hi-hat perfectly emulating Mongo's congas. 'Makossa Soul', Manu's 1972 masterpiece, is instantly recognizable, and predated disco by a year (in a very good sense). 1978's 'Sun Explosion' could almost be the inspiration for King Sunny Ade's 1982 juju smash hit, 'Ja Funmi', but it also features that bass tuning that gave Herbie Hancock and the Head Hunters their famous groove in 1973's Chameleon -- I'm talking about that bubble-blowing-tuba, fretless bass sound. There's P-Funk going on too on that track. 1979's 'Af Freak Sans Fric', written in Cote d'Ivoire but with Manu's vocals channeling Serge Gainsbourg's aloof cool, flows south nevertheless. It shows Manu in touch with the jittery rhythm guitar style that was beginning to give a lift to South Africa's township jive and Zimbabwe's chimurenga. Meanwhile, the blazing chorus from the woodwinds and brass on this track is so good, it leaves every other wind section from the continent in the dust. *Disc 3* This disc has the most filler -- including a few limp excursions into synth-driven Black Uhuru-era reggae, and a couple of dated raps by Soul II Soul's Jazzie B. But you get to hear some superstar tracks as well. The disc opens with 1979's killer cut, 'Goro City'. Try to imagine this: A tight, scuffy reggae rhythm guitar & rim shots, meets a hot Stevie Wonder-like trombone & trumpet score, meets a second juju rhythm guitar. Season it generously with a dynamite soprano sax juju riff, a hi-energy conga line, and a vibes solo. 1976's 'Baobab Sunset' launches out in a shimmery calm, with an homage to Miles Davis, Joe Zawinul, Wayne Shorter and Tony Williams' masterpiece, 'In a Silent Way,' and gradually transitions from juju to rumba and soukous, with some brief nods to Ghanaian highlife (Daniel Amponsah), Malian balafon (marimba), and the Senegalese rumba superstars, Orchestra Baobab. 1979's 'Douala Serenade' is a beautiful, relaxed makossa that could have been arranged by the Meters for Mardi Gras, and has a soaring Stevie Wonder bridge. 1982's 'Waka Juju' has the tightest, funkiest juju guitar sound ever made, and here, accompanied by a disco-funk organ, the effect is something like the electrofunk of Eddie Grant's 'Electric Avenue', but there is driving percussion too, and even a comping salsa piano, that builds the tension even more. (Was this the inspiration for King Sunny's 1985 'Waka Remix' of 'Ja Funmi'?) 'Africa boogie' is another memorable juju jam. The last three tunes worth soaking up on this disc are from more recent meetings with other Afro-Cuban artists. There are two Cuban standards brought to life by Manu and Eliades Ochoa y su Cuarteto Patria (before Ry Cooder made them big). The last is Manu's 'Soul Makossa' with Youssou N'Dour. ... Manu Dibango evidently has had more than one career. You may yet be a doubter. It just doesn't seem probable that anyone could fuse these disparate influences so seamlessly ... until you hear Manu doing it, and then you'll be blown away. The lightbulb goes on instantly: After listening to this collection, you'll understand how closely linked all of those Afro-Cuban cross-currents really have been. During his career, the Makossa King became the Special Envoy for every one of them. The layout of this box set, by the way, is eye-popping. Put it right up there with the Blue Note longboxes.