Mbongwana Means Change

15-12-28 LISTENING Mbongwana Star

Mbong­wana Star

I fell in love with African pop music long ago, in Nige­ria, dur­ing the heady days of Vic­tor Owaifo, Dele Abio­dun and King Sun­ny Adé (whose hand I got to shake in Toron­to, many years lat­er). I’ve tried to fol­low it ever since, but there is sim­ply too much to keep track of. Africa pro­duces wave after wave of new music, the hotspots shift­ing back and forth from region to region. Kin­shasa is a hotspot, lately.

Mbong­wana Star is tak­ing African pop in a new direc­tion with the release this year of From Kin­shasaMbong­wana actu­al­ly means “change” in Lin­gala, and the change is appar­ent. Musi­cians in the Con­go* have long been in a groove whose out­side influ­ences were pri­mar­i­ly reg­gae, souk­ous and clas­sic rhyhm and blues. From Kin­shasa is quite dif­fer­ent. It has a spa­cy, almost psy­che­del­ic sen­si­bil­i­ty that pulls influ­ences from punk and elec­tron­i­ca, and has an ambi­ence some­thing like the sci­ence fic­tion-motown exper­i­ments that George Clin­ton made back in the 1970s. This amount of inno­va­tion is all the more remark­able because the founders of the band, Yakala “Coco” Ngam­bali and Nsi­tu­vui­di “Theo” Nzon­za, are men in their six­ties, con­fined to wheel­chairs, and vet­er­ans of the brief celebri­ty of Staff Ben­da Bilili.

15-12-28 LISTENING Staff Benda Bilili

Staff Ben­da Bilili

Staff Ben­da Bilili was a freak suc­cess a few years ago. It emerged from the slums of Kin­shasa, and was com­prised of four elder­ly men who had been con­fined to impro­vised tri­cy­cle-wheel­chairs by child­hood polio, accom­pa­nied by a teenag­er who played an elec­tric lute that he had hand-made from scraps. They appeared periph­er­al­ly in a French doc­u­men­tary on Kinshasa’s slum life and music scene called Jupiter’s Dance in 2006. Four years lat­er, the same pro­duc­ers and direc­tors made a slick­er doc­u­men­tary focused on them, which was a hit at Cannes and made them overnight stars in Europe. What fol­lowed was the clas­sic tragi­com­e­dy of instant suc­cess. They toured the world, giv­ing hun­dreds of con­certs, released two fine albums, Très très fort (2009) and Bouger le Monde! (2012). They made a for­tune on paper, but the mon­ey evap­o­rat­ed in the unfa­mil­iar maze of con­tracts, hang­ers-on, per diems, and tour­ing costs that plague the glob­al music indus­try, and which they were unequiped to nav­i­gate. At one point, they found them­selves pen­ni­less in Trinidad, with no gig, no place to stay, and no air­fare home. Final­ly, the band broke up with the usu­al con­fu­sion and ran­cour. But the two albums they issued are fine exam­ples of the Kin­shasa sound, live­ly and entertaining.

Ngam­bali and Nzon­za did not give up, how­ev­er. They returned to Kin­shasa and dug up some young musi­cians back in their old neigh­bour­hood. They found per­cus­sion­ist Randy Makana Kam­bal­aya in a shel­ter for the dis­abled, a young street urchin known only as “Sage” who played vibes, and Jean-Claude Kam­i­na Mulo­di, a bril­liant gui­tarist. Mbong­wana Star was born, and they were open to new musi­cal influ­ences, for the Staff Ben­da Bilili vet­er­ans had been exposed to a lot of stuff in their world tour, and absorbed it with inter­est. Con­nect­ing with an expe­ri­enced Irish pro­duc­er, Doc­tor L, famil­iar with the African scene but also savvy in the music busi­ness, put them back on track. While the two ear­li­er albums are good stuff, worth repeat­ed lis­ten­ing, From Kin­shasa is some­thing entire­ly new, and I’ve been play­ing it over and over again with pleasure.

— * the for­mer Bel­gian Colony, pre­vi­ous­ly called Zaire, not the Con­go Repub­lic, a for­mer French colony next door to it.

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