Over the last ten years, thanks largely to the Herculean efforts of French researcher Francis Falceto (he's the man behind the Ethiopiques CD series released by Buda Musique: each of the twenty-seven volumes so far released are essential listening), curious music lovers have discovered the glories of 1970s 'Ethiopian Groove', a potent brew of traditional rhythms, brilliant arrangements, swinging horns and soulful vocals. These stirring recordings from the 1970s were the fruit of a decade of musical innovation. Influenced by the musical wisdom and instruction of Nerses Nalbandian (a composer, arranger, chorus leader, and music teacher of Armenian origin, who worked with hundreds of Ethiopian musicians), and the R&B, Soul, Rock and Pop hits broadcast by the American military radio at Kagnew Station (an American military base outside Asmara, the capital of Eritrea), and played in the nightclubs and discotheques of Addis Ababa, a young generation of Ethiopian musicians, throughout the 1960s, created, to again quote Francis Falceto, a 'societal revolution' through music. These 'adadis zefanotch', or 'new songs', were distinctly modern- in their instrumentation, arrangements, and groove-and uniquely Ethiopian, in their melodies and 'feeling'.
This new style of music was nurtured by two of the country's great musical
incubators, the Police Orchestra and Emperor Haile Selassie's Imperial
Bodyguard Band: these ensembles, like all music ensembles in Ethiopia at the
time, were controlled by the government. The greatest singers, and musicians,
of the 1970s-Tlahoun Gessesse, Mahmoud Ahmed, Bzunesh Beqele, to name just
three-honed their skills through thousands of performances with these
ensembles. Unfortunately, aside from a few 45s released in the mid-1960s,
no commercial recordings of these ensembles were made until 1969, when Amha
Eshete created Amha records, Ethiopia's first independent record company
(according to Falceto there were just under 500 Ethiopian 45s and around 30 lps
released between 1969 and 1978, when record production stopped completely).
There were, however, reel-to- reel recordings of both groups made by Armenian
merchant Garbis Hayzagian, and by Radio Ethiopia.
Police Band (1965)
In the late 1960s (probably 1967 or 1968), Leo made his first trip to Addis Ababa, where he
quickly met many of the city's musical luminaries. One of Leo's more gracious
hosts was the composer and conductor Tsegaye Debalqe, who at the time was also
the Music Director of Radio Ethiopia.
Before Leo left Addis, Tsegaye Debalqe gave Leo this reel with fifteen songs
featuring the Police Orchestra, the Imperial Bodyguard Band, and some of the
era's greatest singers. These recordings were made in 1961 (the 1953 date on
the label above refers to the Ethiopian Orthodox calendar, which is eight years
behind the Gregorian calendar), and are a wonderful snapshot of the opening
salvos of Ethiopia's musical revolution.
The first song on the reel is a duet between Lieutenant Mesfin Haile and Hirut
Beqele accompanied by the Police Orchestra, featuring a terrific violin player.
They sing, "Life is Tough. This world is an unforgiving and bitter place,
and now you are leaving me.
Next up is a recording of "Altchalkoum", one of Tlahoun Gessesse's
most famous, and most controversial songs; ostensibly a dispute between two
lovers, this song was actually a protest against the imperial regime. The title
of the song can be translated as 'I can't stand it anymore', and after the
failed coup d'etat of December 1960, this song led to Tlahoun's arrest and
emprisonment. This version of the song, however, does not feature Tlahoun. It
is a duo between Bzunesh Beqele and a male singer I have not yet been able to
identify, again accompanied by the Police Orchestra.
Imperial Bodyguard Band
03 - Bzunesh Beqele & Imperial Bodyguard Band
Bzunesh Beqele was the greatest female singer of her generation, one of the
first artists to embrace the 'new songs' of the 1960s. She was born in Harar in
1935, came to Addis at a young age to attend school, and by her mid-20s had
joined the Imperial Bodyguard Band, where she spent most of her career. She
released a series of singles in the early 1970s, and at least two cassettes in
the 1980s-both of which are fantastic. She passed away, in 1990, at her home in
Addis Ababa;
she was only 54 years old. Several years ago, the Ethio Sound record label
released a great compilation of her early 1970s Phillips singles. This next
track is the earliest Bzunesh recording I've heard.
Imperial Bodyguard Band
04 - Tefera Kassa & the Imperial Bodyguard Band
Tefara Kassa was another of the Imperial Bodyguard's great singers. Although he
doesn't seem to have made many commercial recordings, he was very popular in
the 1960s. He still lives in Addis. (I have heard that parallel to his musical
career, he also worked, for many years, at the Ministry of Information). These
next two songs are upbeat dance numbers. In this first track he sings, 'I
wished for her and I got her, I wanted her and she is mine. Because of her I am
happy.'
05 - Tefera Kassa & Imperial Bodyguard Band 'Merengue Cha-Cha'
This next track is one of my favorites on the reel. It is a charming
distillation of the different spirits that would eventually create the potent
'Ethiopian groove' of the 1970s. He sings, 'When we dance to the Dorze rhythm,
we are really happy. Merengue cha-cha.' The song brings together Latin rhythms,
the traditional dance style of the Dorze people (from Southern
Ethiopia), with a Dorze melody and singing style, resulting in a
song that is simultaneously traditional and modern!
These next two songs are modern arrangements of more distinctly traditional
material. This first track, by the Police Orchestra, is a popular melody sung
in Oromo. Unfortunately, I have not been able to identify the singer. If you
have any ideas, please get in touch!
Here is the Imperial Bodyguard Orchestra interpreting a Dorze melody from Southern Ethiopia. I love the vocal polyphony.
08 - Imperial Bodyguard Band 'accordion instrumental'
Last but not least, an accordion-driven instrumental by the Imperial Bodyguard
Band. For many years this song was played by Radio Ethiopia to kick off the day's
programs.
Zelwecker and Imperial Bodyguard Orchestra
Thank you very much to Mulatu Astatqe, Tizita
Belachew, Negussie Mengesha, and Solomon Kifle for their help with research and
translations. Matthew LaVoie|
" Possibly the weirdest sounding tunes on eMusic "
1973 | Label: Folkways Records / Smithsonian Folkways
As Editor-in-Chief of eMusic, I listen to a fair amount of music that's available on the site, and I think this might be the weirdest thing I have ever heard.
It's by the Gidole people, subsistence farmers in a mountainous, remote area of southwestern Ethiopia. It's a tough life. So it's no wonder that, as the album's liner notes state, "When the people of these tribes sing, play or dance, they give themselves totally to the music. The frenzy of the ritualistic performances is attested to by the trance state which many of the people will enter during festivals." The album highlight, “Giddle Instrumental (Giddle tribe),” is played on bamboo filla flutes and it sounds like one of those trippy buried backwards tracks on a Beatles song like "I Am the Walrus." If you don't start hallucinating wildly about 60 seconds in, you might want to check if you have a pulse."
Given the considerable number of African Jews living in Ethiopia, it makes perfect cultural sense for Israeli pianistYitzhak Yedid to team up with Ethiopian sax man and vocalist Abatte Barihun to explore the music of Ethiopia on Ras Deshen, a work which mines the common musical ground shared by their countries. Yedid and Abatte performed selections from the disc recently at a reception at Alice Tully Hall and didn’t let the crowd’s lack of attentiveness diminish the passion of their playing.
'Ras Dashen Duo' Abate Berihun & Yitzhak Yedid in concert
The opening “Anchi Hoye,” written by Abatte, is named for one of the four modes of Ethiopian music. Abatte plays the tenor with a measured tension and clear tenderness that manages to reference both Pres and Trane. Yedid’s brooding timbre, interior dialogue and chord progressions are so reminiscent of Keith Jarrett that his solo could be dropped seamlessly into the grooves of The Köln Concert.
On “Batti,” Abatte enhances his soprano saxophone with soaring vocals in Amharic. When he performed this song at the reception, his voice cut through the conversation and, at least momentarily, demanded everyone’s attention. Abatte’s tenor on “Yehar Shererit” has a palpable R&B/gospel tinge, with an occasional gutbucket growl added for good measure, working in tandem with Yedid’s playful boogie-woogie chaos. “Fikir” is a beautifully ruminative discourse that sounds quite Middle Eastern in its execution, with Abatte’s serpentine tenor weaving around Yedid’s lush, symphonic piano riffs.
Yedid lays out on “Birtukane,” giving the floor to Fentahon Malessa on krar, an Ethiopian lyre that sounds close to a guitar and gives the music another rich dimension. On “Ambassel,” another modal tune, Abatte solos powerfully over Malessa’s repeated figure. Yedid lays out again and one can only wonder how all three instruments would have sounded together.
Perhaps the disc’s most arresting tune, however, is “Behatito Kadus Kadus.” With Yedid vamping in a Fats Waller vein, Abatte lifts his voice again and could be singing about a hellhound on his trail, instead of invoking a prayer. Abatte’s tenor grooves between Ethiopia and the Mississippi Delta, ending this excellent disc on a high note.
Ethiopian jazz band Ras Deshen hopes to take their music to new heights in the Holy Land. Barry Davis gets a lift
The terms "Ethiopia" and "jazz" may not, initially, appear to be the most comfortable of bedfellows. Most people naturally associate music from anywhere in Africa with driving tribal rhythms. Then again, jazz is essentially a form of black music introduced to the Western world by artists who originated from Africa.
Addis Ababa-born saxophonist Abate Berimun, the first and, to date, only Ethiopian jazz musician in Israel, will demonstrate the accuracy of that juxtaposition when he leads a performance by the Ras Deshen band this Tuesday at the Jerusalem Cultures Center as part of the Israel Jazz Showcase series dedicated to promoting Israeli jazz. Abate will be supported by pianist Yitzhak Yedid and Maleseh Fantahon, who will play the krar - a sort of small African harp.
In fact, Abate has several strings to his musical bow. "He can play numerous types of music from Ethiopia," explains Moshe Bar-Yudai, former chairman of the National Arts Council (Omanut La'am) and the driving force behind an ongoing project to establish an Ethiopian Jewry Heritage Center in Rehovot.
"Each region of Ethiopia has its own musical traditions. There is also the Christian liturgical style, which is similar to the Jewish liturgical form. Abate plays both and many more."
Apparently, the catchphrase-oriented world of the latter part of the 20th century was able to accommodate improvised music from Abate's homeland too, and the term "Ethiojazz" came into being in the late Sixties when musicians like Addis Ababa resident Mulatu Astatqe and Cameroon jazz superstar Manu Dibango were putting out a captivating mix of indigenous African music seasoned with soul, salsa and other black rhythms.
When Abate arrived in Israel in late 1999 he was already an established star in the Ethiopian jazz firmament. He had toured Europe many times over a period of 10 years and was a regular feature of the jazz shows put on by the Hilton and Sheraton hotels in Addis Ababa.
He first picked up a saxophone at the age of 17. He says he does not come from a particularly musical family, although he has fond memories of his father's closet vocal prowess. He was initially inspired to take up an active interest in music by his neighbors.
"There was a military brass band that used to practice just down the road from my house," Abate recalls. "I could hear them from my room. I loved the sound of the wind instruments and the saxophones." Suitably bitten by the musical bug, Abate got his hands on a saxophone and found his way to the music school in Addis Ababa. It was there that he began to take his new love seriously. "I did it all myself," he says.
"I told my mother I was going to the music school but my father used to spend a long time away from home and he didn't know about it at the beginning."
Abate's father first discovered his son was a budding musician when Abate invited him to one of his first gigs. "I remember that so well," says Abate. "As soon as my father heard me play he began jumping up and down with glee. He was so happy and proud of me."
The music school not only provided Abate with formal training in jazz, it also allowed him to listen to records of some of the legendary masters, like Charlie Parker. "We had some records at home when I was growing up, but they weren't jazz. My father worked with the Italians before World War II and he got hold of albums by Frank Sinatra and some Italian singers. That was all. But I could get hold of jazz records when I was at the school."
BEFORE LONG Abate had become proficient and confident enough to be able to strut his stuff in public, and he soon secured regular work at the Hilton and Sheraton hotels in the Ethiopian capital. "I played there every day for eight years," Abate says.
Those gigs also provided him with an opportunity to meet tourists from abroad who sometimes brought jazz records with them. There were also occasional visits by foreign jazz artists, such as Manu Dibango, and Abate was able to hone his skills in the company of far more experienced fellow professionals.
When he was 21, Abate began touring Europe with his own band and, until he moved here eight years later, he went on the road for several weeks three times a year visiting Sweden, Holland, Germany, England and France. He says it was quite an experience, for all concerned.
"It was wonderful to see places outside Africa, and the Europeans were excited to hear the music we played. But we worked hard. We generally played five days a week every week for three months." Abate's last European tour ended just three weeks before he came on aliya.
However, since arriving in the Promised Land, his professional fortunes have changed dramatically - for the worse. Initially lacking local language skills - he now speaks Hebrew reasonably well - and unable to find regular work as a jazz musician, he resorted to almost all manner of menial work to keep body and soul together. For a long time he worked a daily shift as a restaurant dishwasher in the morning followed by an all-night shift as a security guard.
"The dishwashing was ruining his hands," says Bar-Yudai, "so we decided to do something." That help came in the form of a small stipend, organized through the Ethiopian Jewry Heritage organization, to enable Abate to get by just on his nocturnal work. "When I was doing both jobs I couldn't practice or perform. I didn't have the time or the strength," says Abate.
Not that things are exactly rosy now. "It's still hard for me to practice." And Abate's compositional efforts are not helped by not having ready access to a piano.
However, one leading member of the local music community, veteran rocker Ariel Zilber, has given Abate some much needed stage time and occasional public exposure. "Ariel has helped me a lot," says Abate. "I've played with him all over the country." The Zilber-Abate synergy also produced a number called "Ethiopian Song," which has been performed on television, in Hebrew and Amharic.
Despite his daily hardships, and drastic drop in professional standing, compared with his life in Ethiopia, Abate remains hopeful that things will work out in the end and that he will be able to make a living here as a full-time musician. His current project with pianist Yedid promises to bear fruit. Besides the forthcoming show, the two are working on a CD based on a mix of Yedid's classically based avant-garde material and Abate's blend of jazz and African strains. The latter include various Ethiopian modes or scales, with names such as Ambasel, Amchihoya, Batti and Tezita, all of which are used for ballads.
Yedid, who spends some of his working hours running Jerusalem's Swedish Chef venue for original jazz music and Third Stream music, is delighted to have the chance to work with the Ethiopian. Yedid and Abate were originally brought together by radio presenter and ethnic-music expert Shlomo Yisraeli.
"Shlomo suggested I do something with Abate," Yedid says. "We got together and we hit it off musically right from the start. I felt he was an amazing musician. He is a jazz artist but he adds African scales. He plays in an Ethiopian style on an instrument which isn't at all Ethiopian."
The Yedid-Abate chemistry worked so well that they were in a recording studio after just two rehearsals. Thus far, they have recorded five tracks as part of the album they hope to complete in the not too distant future. Yedid does have some experience of working with Ethiopian musicians, but he says playing with Abate is a different kettle of fish.
"I played with a couple of singers a few years ago, but this is a much more serious proposition. Abate is an improviser. He has a very special sense of musical structure - a very long structure. He can play for a long time, it's almost like Indian music."
Yedid feels that Abate has something he has never encountered with any other jazz musician he has worked with. "You can feel his African roots. He is almost meditative in his way of playing." By all accounts, it looks like next week's show should provide Jerusalem music lovers with a remarkable experience. Let's hope there will be plenty more from Abate before too long.
