FEMI KUTI LIVE IN NEW YORK
Central Park, New York
August 13, 2000

KAIKAI
kaikai@ngex.com

For two weeks after I found out that Femi Kuti would be performing in Central Park as part of Summerstage, I was brimming with excitement because this appearance would be my first time seeing him live. It seems somehow that I always miss the boat - the last time he was in New York (about three months ago) I didn't hear about his presence until weeks after, by which time he had left New York.

He was coming back to New York to perform for FREE, no less. I couldn't miss this one.

The weather forecast for the weekend was glum so all I could do was keep my fingers crossed and hope for the best on Sunday. On Saturday, NYC reminded me of Port-Harcourt during rainy season. I appreciated the coolness the rain brought but thoughts of Femi's concert being washed out occupied my mind. By Saturday evening it seemed like there was hope. The rain had stopped and the air was calm. Sunday morning came with a little sun and promise of a good afternoon at Central Park.

After much debating about the time of the concert and logistics on travel to the park, my friend and I finally got to Summerstage at about 4:30pm. We had missed the first two acts and were just in time to see Lamb (a British techno group) perform. Luckily Femi and his band (Positive Force) would end the evening.

I listened patiently and even broke out a few dance moves as Lamb belted out an hour and a half of rather enjoyable techno. After Lamb was finished and the MC announced that it would take fifteen minutes to set up for Femi, my excitement increased and I was no longer content standing so far (about 100 meters) from the stage. My friend and I boldly made our way through the crowd, heading towards the stage, until we got to a point (about 25 people deep from the stage) where we were satisfied that we would get a good glimpse of Femi and his dancers (of course).

As we waited, the sky seemed to be spitting down on us, taunting us with little drops, nothing that warranted pulling out the umbrella that I forgot at home. So I held my breath as my concern shifted from my freshly plaited hair to my camera and back to my hair. About five minutes passed and our collective prayers appeased the sky enough that she brightened up.

Finally, the moment arrived. First the band came in, unleashing their energy onto the crowd with their first set, which I didn’t recognize. I was pumped. Next came the dancers and then Femi. The crowd was formally introduced to the double bass and the powerful horns. There was no turning back Femimania had already infected the crowd.

Up front, a hand printed yellow flag with the map of Africa and the words "Fela lives" printed with black paint was flying high. The air around me was filled with the smell of reefer. Mixed in with that was the smell of clove cigarettes. Behind me was a group of Americans who apparently knew Femi more than I did. Right next to me stood two French men who I doubt had ever heard of Femi Kuti. Nevertheless, they got into the groove. So much so that one of them inadvertently inflicted a cigarette burn on my hand as he performed his little jigs. I was also into the groove so I took the burn as one of the hazards of attending a free outdoor concert, nothing to fuss about.

The first song was ninety-seven a moving ballad recalling the period in 1997 when the Kuti family lost three members (Fela, his daughter and his niece) all within months of each other. The sadness of the song didn’t hit so intensely on those who didn’t understand Pidgin English but everyone in the audience appreciated the depth and power of Femi’s voice. The next eighty-five minutes were full of engaging, pumping, funky and groovy kicks (including beng beng beng). The dancers gyrated with such ease that for a brief moment I convinced myself that if I had enough space I could do the same.

Femi and Positive Force were incredible. I loved their interaction with the crowd. Sometimes I wished I had in my possession a Nigerian flag because the energy level was akin to carnival in Trinidad. I expected the next thing I’d hear was "raise ya han’ in de air" or "raise ya flag in de air" and I would have been unprepared.

All too soon, time was up. But before they let us go, Femi and Positive Force dug into Fela Library and pulled out "Water, E No Get Enemy", a tribute to the natural element that loomed over us all evening. Welcoming the invitation, the sky opened up just enough to remind us that she had held her water for us and that it was time to go home. By the time I got home, there’d been a downpour and I couldn’t help but believe that the gods were with us and maybe Fela was looking down with admiration and pride at his talented son. The evening couldn’t have been better scripted. If there were still doubts about Femi’s talent, I’m sure they were buried at Summerstage on Sunday.

When Femi began to perform as leader of his own band, Positive Force , about fourteen years ago, it seemed like he would drown in an ocean of judgment and discontentment created by Fela fans. Femi, like sons of other legendary musicians, had a lot of people worldwide looking to see how he would carry his father's mantle.

Today, Femi wears his father’s legacy with pride and comfort. He has developed his own style, Afrobeat, heavy on the funk, with a dash of Makossa, a hint of Mapouka, drops of sweet Soca, topped off with the best groove element in the house and anything else your ear tunes into.

Like Ziggy Marley, Femi proves that he not only bears his father's name, but that the same blood and talent that flowed through his father's veins, run hot through his veins as well.

So with the words of Femi, I hail you all
Arara rara, Ororo roro.
Na so we see am for New York.
KAIKAI

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