Another Harry Mosco video

Still mega-busy, fam... Transmission will re-commence soon.

In the meantime, check out this vid and enjoy the light-skinned gal's consistent overacting/dancing.

A couple of 1980s videos for the weekend

I've been slacking on the blog lately partly because I've been busy working on Now Again Records' upcoming Nigerian fuzz funk compilation and partly because I've been having trouble with my FTP since I've been back. The latter is also the reason my sparse updates have relied upon YouTube links, and I hope to resolve the issue soon and start getting some mp3s back up here. In the meantime, though, here are some more videos.

While the blog was on hiatus during my sojourn in Nigeria, I received a number of emails from a particularly insistent reader who wanted to me post the music videos of the 1980s kiddie-pop star, Yvonne Maha. Now as I've mentioned a few times in the past, it is nigh impossible to find pre-1990 music videos in Nigeria because at most television stations, if the humongous U-matic and Quad tapes on which they were stored that were not dubbed over with new content, they were thrown out wholesale to make room for new hardware. So I made no promises to find these videos, but I pledged to do my best.

As it turns out, the best I could do was to unearth this clip of Yvonne Maha appearing on The Bala Miller Show in 1983. I'd like to think that this also will at least partially please my girl Kelechi who requested some Bala Miller. (Don't worry, Kay; I'll be putting up some more Miller stuff a little later.)



Also, here is a 1981 promo (that's what we called music videos way back in the day) for Harry "Mr. Funkees" Mosco's Sugar Cane Baby, during his London period. The color's a bit messed up but that's because whoever digitized it didn't adjust the hue. It's still fun to watch, especially for its evocation of that innocent era when the music video was such a new invention and most performers had no inkling of how to comport their bodies or their faces in them. I mean, look at Harry's awkward shuffling, the band's hammy pretend-playing and the unabashed scenery chewing by the light-skinneded singer gal! I swear, she did that in all the videos Harry shot for this album (I remember there being three or four of them), even the ballad!

It came from the 80s...

Just a few quick picks today, folks... A random selection of rare pop tracks from the 1980s.


Saint Emmy - "Something Real, Something Good"

Saint Emmy started his career playing with Celestine Ukwu's Philosophers and other bands before going solo in the mid-70s. While he never really achieved major stardom on a national level, he remained a favorite in Eastern Nigeria, particularly in the fertile music scene of Enugu which included luminaries such as Nelly Uchendu, William Onyeabor and Goddy "Mr. Hygrades" Oku. This dubby track from his 1984 LP Good Good Love was recorded at Oku's Godiac Studio, backed by the Comrades Rock Group of Enugu.


Akin Nathan and the Jubilees - "Oja Ni K'Aiye"

Akin Nathan was a seasoned session saxophonist who featured on several albums but is chiefly known for his tenure with Sonny Okosuns' Ozziddi during the group's most productive period in the 70s and 80s. Nathan's "Jubilees" on this 1980 solo outing include drummer Moses "Mosco" Egbe, guitarist Nelson Tackie, keyboard player Johnnie Woode Olimah and bassist Vincent Toko--all fellow members of Ozziddi.


Robo Arigo - "Them Crazy"

Robo Arigo's Sexy Thing album is in my opinion one of the rarest and most rewarding funk LPs of the 1980s. I like the rough and demo-ish quality of it, with his vocals mixed down low throughout to showcase his funky chops. The former Pogo Ltd. multi-instrumentalist went on to establish himself as an Nkono Teles-style super-producer with his Robbosoneex Music Company in Benin.


Racheal Jerry I. and Her Golden Voice '82 - "I Want To Be a Star"

There's a certain earnestness and naivete to Racheal Jerry I.'s "I Want To Be a Star" that I find quite charming. The bio on her album sleeve recounts her struggle to make it in the music business through disappointment and exploitation before finally realizing the dream of cutting an album in Victor Uwaifo's Joromi Recording Studio, accompanied by his Titibiti Kings!

Racheal never really became a star, but her Close to Me was supposedly the first LP produced by a female artiste from Rivers State... so there's that.


Donaldson Maduh Jr. - "Pretty Julie"

You might have heard this one on the last guest session I did over at Boogieheads. I call records like this "Dizzy K as genre"--high-pitched male singers over Afro-electro-disco tracks in the style of popular 80s star Dizzy K. Falola. The name is probably a bit of a misnomer as there were some common denominators to the style: most of these records were either produced by Dizzy K. producer Tony Okoroji, or featured multi-instrumentalist Nkono Teles, who played on most of Dizzy's records. Donaldson's 1986 record was actually produced by part-time Doves member Chuck Lygomm (who also played the guitars, Rhodes and synths) though Okoroji is thanked on the sleeve for "encouragement" and Dizzy K. himself contributes backing vocals.

And finally, another cut in a semi-Dizzy K. mold...


Jombo - "Squeeze Me"

Gorgeous electro-boogie production by Nkono Teles. The singing is pretty dreadful of course, but you got a lot of that in the "private label" period of the 1980s. If the 1960s and 70s were the era of the professional musician and the big, seemingly impenetrable record companies, the 80s were a time when every youth wanted to make a record and if you could beg, borrow or steal enough money you didn't have to worry whether you had the talent or style to impress the suits at the big companies. You just made the trip to Lagos, Enugu or Onitsha and hooked up with a studio wizard like Teles, Jake Sollo or Sol "Tula" Owen, you booked your studio session, they cooked up some hot tracks for you and you did your awkward best over them in the time allotted. You pressed the record up yourself under your own banner, took it back home and got some regional radio and TV play. You got to be a local champion or a big shot at your school for a few months and then faded back into obscurity until twenty-some years later when some blogger cast a hazy spotlight on you once more. Maybe you can't exactly call it a career, but it's... something.

Cliff David (1945-2009)

Since I've not been posting that much lately, I didn't get to mention the passing of Clifford David Nwaire--a.k.a. "Cliff David," leader of the Cloud 7 pop group--a few weeks ago.

Cloud 7, who released five albums between 1978 and 1987, were one of the most popular music acts in Nigeria, with their hit "Beautiful Woman" in particular resonating as an evergreen classic.

In recent years, David had settled in Aba and dedicated his life to evangelism, even releasing a gospel album called Thank You Jesus.

He will be buried tomorrow at Ikperejere, Ihitte-Uboma Local Government Area, Imo State. May his soul rest in peace, and may his music live on.

DOWNLOAD On Cloud 7: Tribute to Cliff David

(Cliff David photos courtesy of Emmanuel Ohayagha)


****

...and oh yeah...

SELLIN' OUT RETURNS!!


I've also got a couple of records I'm selling up on eBay, so check 'em out and drop a bid if you're interested. There will be more to come in the next few weeks.

Charlotte Dada... revealed!

I hate the way my updates have become increasingly infrequent, but I've got a couple of projects that have been taking up a lot of time. Funny thing is that I actually have been writing new entries, but I never get around to actually posting them. I think I've got about two months worth of posts and music in the backlog, so I might as well just roll those out, huh?

Here's a post from a few months ago. I was originally going to give this "scoop" to Matt over at Benn Loxo since Charlotte Dada is the unofficial mascot of that blog, but he's not updated since last December so I ended up just sitting on it.

***



Whenever I watch Soul to Soul, Denis Sanders' film documenting the 1971 independence anniversary concert in Accra, Ghana, featuring American music stars such as Wilson Pickett, Ike & Tina Turner, Roberta Flack and Santana, one question always comes to mind: Where are the Ghanaian artists who performed at the concert?



Surely I can understand how commercial (and even legal) concerns might have necessitated the focus upon the more familiar visiting American musicians, but I think the spirit of cultural exchange and pan-African fellowship the film's title suggests would have been better served by throwing some shine on the local performers who also graced the stage at that show.

I'm assuming that those performances were also filmed, and that the footage is lying around somewhere. Hopefully someone releases it one of these days, but in the meantime, let's give a little face time to some of the Ghanaian stars who didn't make the cut with some bios scanned from the original concert program pamphlet.



(Click on images to bigify)

I'll admit that I'm particularly pleased to present the pic of the enigmatic Charlotte Dada; as far as I know, her photo has never appeared online though I've heard that a documentary on her was produced a few years ago:


Charlotte Dada - "Don't Let Me Down"
Cool Blaze Band feat. Charlotte Dada - "Everything Cool"




The Aliens - "We're Laughing"
The Aliens - "Blofonyobi Wo Atale"


The Guy Warren Sounds - "Blood Brothers"
The Guy Warren Sounds - "Love, The Mystery Of"

Fujupop

I went to high school at Federal Government College, Ikot Ekpene, one of the prestigious "unity schools" established from 1970 onwards by the decree of then-head of state Yakubu Gowon. The idea was to install in every region of Nigeria top-quality, federally-funded secondary institutions where the student body and the staff were drawn by quota from every corner of the country, familiarizing Nigeria's youth with one another and facilitating national reunification after the ethnical and religious polarization of the civil war of '67-70. Pro unitate ("towards unity") was the motto.

When I started in the mid-80s, there were two unity schools--a Federal Government Girls' College and a coed Federal Government College--located in each of Nigeria's 19 states. (The hallowed King's College and Queen's College in Lagos were absorbed as honorary members of the Federal Government College system even though their existence pre-dated the unity schools initiative by 61 and 43 years respectively.)

Looking back, I think I really took it for granted: I went to a Federal Government College because I was considered a bright kid, and gaining admission to one of the highly-competitive FGCs was what bright kids were expected to do. Yes, I was quite aware how much hipper than the local "state schools" the federal schools were perceived to be, but I didn't think it was that much of a big deal. But now, when I talk to my peers who went to state schools--many of whom never really had the chance to leave their region of origin or socialize with people from other parts of the country--and I observe how relatively provincial and ethnocentric they are in their worldview, I realize what a blessing the unity school system was and I am tremendously grateful to General Gowon for his vision and statesmanship.

As a young music lover, one advantage of FGCs I recognized even then was the opportunity to be apprised of the sounds rocking in other parts of the country. I lived in the small and "dry" Eastern town of Calabar, which seemed perpetually a few steps behind "bubbling" metropolises like Lagos and Port Harcourt, so whenever we came back from the holidays, my school friends would fill me in on the latest music happening in their sections. Likewise, I would turn them on to the latest tunes from the East that had not yet spread to other parts of the country (if at all they ever did). But more or less, we all listened to the same kind of music even if we heard it at different times.

As the 80s wore on, though, I noticed that the music tastes of my friends from Lagos and other parts of Western Nigeria were changing a bit, moving towards more Yoruba-centric styles. Juju--which had up until this time had been regarded as music for our parents' generation--had started to retool itself to appeal to a younger audience, spearheaded by the likes of Sir Shina Peters and Segun Adewale. And then you had newer Yoruba street styles like fuji fiercely competing with the juju new wave for the imaginations and backsides of the Lagos youth.

This music--with its Yoruba lyrics, cosmopolitan opulence, frantic percussion and vague aroma of Islam--really did not play in Eastern Nigeria at all. The Lagosians would dance and sing these songs to each other, delighting in them like untranslatable Yoruba in-jokes.

Slightly more accessible to non-Lagosians like myself were the other emerging forms of Yoruba pop that built around the familiar structure of R&B, funk, rock and reggae; the most popular of these mutant forms was Adewale Ayuba's "Yo-pop." Another was "fujupop"--which melded fuji and juju with a modern pop sensibility. The style was created by a young singer named Bola Bimbola, who originally dubbed it "danfo beat" (after the danfo bus--the rickety vans that serve as public transportation in the streets of Lagos) when he debuted with a Yoruba-language version of "Don't Stop Till You Get Enough."

At the time, the record was appealing mostly on a novelty level--maybe a step or two above a parody--but listening to it now, I'd say it's quite brilliant in the way it retrofits the song with fuji percussion while maintaining the integrity of the Michael's original. (The sonic excellence of Bimbo's debut LP is unsurprising, considering the fact that it sports the typically baroque credit "Production, Concept and Music Arrangement by Sound Master Odion Iruoje.)



Bola Bimbola (now known as Bola Abimbola) went on to join King Sunny Ade's African Beats for a while and has been based for the past couple of years in Denver, Colorado where he leads his Wazobia band and continues to work with other artists both in the US and in Nigeria.

You'll notice that the Wikipedia page linked above makes no mention of his 1987 debut. His currently offline website, Fujupop dot com did, however... Though for some reason it described his English-language cover of "Don't Stop Till You Get Enough" as a duet with Linda Ronstadt!

Oh yeah... That's another thing: The sleeve lists "Don't Stop Till You Get Enough" as "Off The Wall," which is of course the title of the Michael Jackson album the song appeared on. It also credits "Silifa Bamijo" as a cover of "Fever Bobijo," which is actually "Viva Bobby Joe" by The Equals.

(Just in case you're wondering, the unity schools are mostly rubbish now. Even back in my day, the government was already complaining that 38 FGCs in 19 states exerted too much of a drain on federal resources and was considering turning over the responsibility for the schools' maintenance to the governments of the respective states they were located in. Twenty-odd years later, Nigeria's 19 states have multiplied hydra-like to 36, with yet more tribally-cartographed states agitating to splinter off. With two FGCs in each one, it looks like the federal government has just stopped caring; the schools have fallen into disrepair structurally and educationally and become as provincial as the state schools they were supposed to be an improvement over. I don't know if they even still hold the cachet of prestige they used to; it seems like regional private schools are the place to be now.

Oh well... 'Twas a noble experiment from which I and many others benefited immeasurably.)

BOLA BIMBOLA - SILIFA BAMIJO (EMI RECORDS, HMV (N) 031, 1987)

SIDE ONE
1. Sumomi Famomi (Off The Wall Yoruba Version)
2. Silifa Bamijo
3. Eleda Mi Gbemi
4. Mama

SIDE TWO
1. Olorun Mi Ye
2. Off The Wall (English Version)
3. Afrika
4. Don't Say No When You Mean To Say Yes

DOWNLOAD ZIP

Whatever happened to Danie Ian?

Singer/guitarist Danie Ian (pronounced "eye-AN") is perhaps one of the most tragically undersung heroes in the annals of Nigerian popular music. A founder of not one but two of the most seminal bands of the rock era, his lack of greater renown is an unfortunate accident of timing: His career peak just happened to have coincided with an epoch that history has simultaneously judged to be a golden age and a lost era.

In 1966, as Nigeria shuffled toward its sixth anniversary as an independent nation, its fragile democracy was displaced by two military coups in rapid succession, simmering ethnic rivalries boiled over into fult-tilt carnage, and Nigeria would greet the next decade as a country at war with itself. It's safe to say the honeymoon was over.

Apparently, 1966 was also the year that Daniel Ian Mbaezue formed his first pop group, The Spades (some accounts give the year as 1968)--which would go on to be one of the most influential bands of in Nigeria's embattled Eastern Region, and eventually one of the most beloved bands in the country as a whole--albeit without him.

Mbaezue was born in the village of Umuezeawala, outside of the town of Ihiala in present-day Anambra State. Daniel showed an early propensity for music, playing flute and drums in his primary school band, leading the school choir at Abbott Boys Secondary School and remaining active in school music activities at Holy Ghost College in Owerri, Imo State, from which he received his Higher Studies Certificate in 1964.

In 1965, he returned to Ihiala to teach at his alma mater Abbott Boys, but his interest in music continued. During those turbulent times, the buoyant optimism and aspirations to elegance represented by dance band highlife had lost a bit of its luster and the new youth generation had turned more towards "beat" music--funk, soul and rock & roll. Where once a youths interested in music sought to learn the trumpet and join a highlife orchestra, they now picket up guitars and formed rock bands like The Blue Knights, The Cyclops, The Strangers, Hykkers International, The Soul Assembly and The Clusters. Mbaezue reports that he bought a guitar with his very first paycheck and shortly thereafter assembled The Spades.

In May 1967, the governor of the Eastern Region, Lt. Col. Chukwuemeka Odumegwu Ojukwu declared that the region had seceded from the Nigerian federation and would effectively be known as the independent nation of Biafra. Nigeria promptly dedicated all its military resources to crushing Biafra and re-annexing the oil-rich land it stood on. Biafra soon became a blockaded teritory, with Nigeria barring food and medical supplies into the region, leading to an estimated one million Biafran casualties, with a good percentage of those being civilians that succumbed to starvation and disease.

Through all that, though, Biafra managed to maintain a fairly vibrant music scene. Little is remembered about most of the wartime bands, as for obvious reasons they got few opportunities to record. And of the few recordings that were made, few survived the devastation. (One With Comb & Razor reader once described to me driving through the ravaged city of Onitsha shortly after The War and seeing a long stretch of a major road littered with broken 45s.) As such, we know little about bands like The Figures and The Spades that played in Biafra, chiefly entertaining the young soldiers. Perhaps because of this reputation for lifting the spirits of combatants in the war zone, by 1968 The Spades had become known as The Airforce Wings.

When The War ended in 1970, Airforce Wings became simply "The Wings" and soared even higher, their achy-hearted rock and pop serving as a salve for the battered souls of the country's youth. But The Wings' postwar success was achieved not behind charismatic frontman Dan Ian but with new lead singer Emeka Jonathan "Spud Nathan" Udensi; Ian had been lured over to The Strangers in late 1970 and in 1971 moved to Lagos to join Sonny Okosuns' Paperback Limited. Ian's spell with Okosuns was similarly short, and by 1972 he had formed the band with which he is most associated: Wrinkar Experience.

Not much is known about the group (which was active for only six months between 1972 and 1973) and I've never seen a photo so I'm not sure about the composition of its membership. All I can say for certain is that the lineup included Ian on guitar and lead vocals, Cameroonians Edjo'o Jacques Racine and Ginger Forcha (on bass and guitar/organ respectively). Ian seems to have been the primary songwriter, penning the two singles for which the band is best known: "Fuel for Love" and "Money to Burn."

Wrinkar Experience - "Fuel for Love"
Wrinkar Experience - "Money to Burn"

I'm sure we're all familiar with these songs, as well as with "Fuel for Love"'s B-side:

Wrinkar Experience - "Soundway"

(The B-side of "Money to Burn" was "Ballad of a Sad Young Woman." I don't have that, but here's a snippet.)

At the height of Wrinkar's fame, Ian left the band "in protest against exploitation." Wrinkar Experience briefly carried on without him until Forcha and Racine formed a new band, Rock Town Express.

If one were to make an assumption about Danie Ian's temperament based solely on his in-and-out relationships with various bands between 1970 and 1973, one might be tempted to view him as mercurial, territorial, perhaps a tad attention-hogging. After the Wrinkar split, Sunny Okosuns considered re-drafting Ian to sing lead vocals on his breakthrough hit "Help," but feared Ian would attempt "steal" the song by taking credit for its composition. Instead, Ian put together a new band called The Ace of Spades and recorded a handful of singles, including "Love Me Now," "Keep It Top Secret" and "Lady Gay Girl."

Danie Ian - "Lady Gay Girl"

By 1976, Ian had shortened the band's name to The Spades in tribute to his original group and released the album Chapter One: This Unspoken Love, dubbing his sound "Love-Dayrock."

Danie Ian & the Spades - "This Unspoken Love"
Danie Ian & the Spades - "Got To Stay Mine"
Danie Ian & the Spades - "I Need Somebody To Love"

The album was issued by EMI in Nigeria, but was also released on Pathe Marconi in France as simply Danie Ian & The Spades. It does not appear to have made much of an impact in either market.

In 1978, Ian ditched he Spades and teamed up with the Heads Funk rock band of Port Harcourt for Hold On Tight, an album of mostly mellow reggae-style tunes like "She's My Woman."

Dan Ian - "She's My Woman"

Apparently, the album's hit was a song that diverged from Ian's usual romantic pop format. "Uri Oma" evoked Igbo native blues and performed well in regional Igbo markets.

Dan Ian - "Uri Oma"

On the mainstream level, though, Hold On Tight mostly went unnoticed. The audience was changing; the new generation seemed more interested in new genres like disco and boogie and even the re-energized guitar highlife scene. Dan Ian's beat pop seemed to be just as much of a relic as the old school dance band highlife it had supplanted a decade earlier, a souvenir of a dark age they would rather have forgotten and memories they wished would just disappear.

And so Danie Ian did just that. He disappeared.

The former heartthrob went back to his hometown, where he was honored with the title Chief Dan Ian Mbaezue, Ezeloma Apanike of Ihiala. But music was never far from his heart. Citing the success of "Uri Oma" as an influence, he charted a new artistic direction in the world of traditional Igbo music and highlife.

In 1990, a mature and near-unrecognizable Dan Ian returned to the music scene with the LP Jide Ukpuru Oma.

Chief Dan Ian Mbaezue - Edikata Ndidi Obi Agbowasia"
Chief Dan Ian Mbaezue - "Mmiri Si N'Isi Gbaru"

And then, just like that, he was gone again.

Which brings us to the question at the top of this post, one that I have been asked several times since I started writing about Nigerian music on this blog: Whatever happened to Danie Ian?

I regret that at this time, I have no definite answer as to his activities of the last 18 years, but most people seem to be unaware of anything he did after Wrinkars, so I hope I've filled in some of the blanks at least.

As one who was not even born when "Fuel for Love" was released, I can only imagine the tremendous effect it had on the kids that came up in the shadow of The War. I can hardly think of a single song that elicits as passionate a response; you need only hum a few bars of "Fuel for Love" in the presence of any gathering of pentagenarian Biafra babies and and watch them go wild.

(The afrofunk supergroup Ariara--featuring friend of the blog Edward Keazor--recorded a lovely version of the sentimental classic.)

I believe he is alive and well, though; rumor suggests that he works as a palm wine tapper in his village, but as he's probably pushing seventy by now, I hope he's not still climbing those trees!

The last major Dan Ian sighting was in October 2006, when he traveled to Lagos for the "Legends Night" event held by the Performing Musicians Association of Nigeria. As audience members requested old favorites by the likes of highlife maestros Dan Maraya Jos, Oliver De Coque and Raphael Amarabem, Dan Ian was summoned to the stage to perform "Fuel for Love."

And so he sang, and they danced like it was 1972. And for one night at least, Danie Ian got the recognition he deserved as a legend of Nigerian music.

Well... Let this be another night for him.

Dove's Golden Voice

Have I ever mentioned that Maxwell Udoh is one of my favorite Nigerian singers?

I can't even make out what the hell he is saying more than half the time but there is something very appealing about the tension of his voice--the slightly hollow vocal timbre and plain-spoken, no-frills delivery. His burning sincerity was perfectly suited for the super-earnest style of Doves, for whom he sang lead vocals for a while (replacing Cameroonian singer Lawrence Nsoesie Ebanga, who died in an accident on the infamous Njaba Bridge in 1976) before going solo in 1982 at the age of 21.

Maxwell Udoh was not the kind of singer who was ever really "cool"--in fact, he was always very "local" or "bush," if you will. But while you could talk all day about his lack of polish or suaveness as an artist, there was no way you could argue with the persuasive power of his highlife calypso dance anthems.

In the late 80s, when reggae became the big thing, he dropped his trademark honorific "Dove's Golden Voice," and donned a beret and fatigues, billing himself as "Rasman Maxwell and his Masses Militia Band."

Apparently, he's still out there doing his thing:



Good for him. I was never that crazy about his reggae stuff, but these joints here (from his second solo LP, 1983's Don't Make Me Wait Too Long) are still the jams for me:

Maxwell Udoh - "Let's Dance Together"
Maxwell Udoh - "Baby Bye Bye"