Femi Kuti
Fela’s oldest son joined his father’s band in 1979, at age 17. As a solo artist, Femi has gone on to earn six Grammy nominations. He oversees Fela's album reissues and compilations. <femikuti.wixsite.com/femikuti>
What are some of your strongest memories of recording with your father?
Oh! First of all, before he records, he performs the song live for at least, I think, about two years. Then it goes to the studio. And from the time he starts to compose until it goes into the studio, the song probably will have changed a couple of times – in order to add or subtract some things. After he records it, he never performs those tracks onstage again. That's the end of that song.
Right.
He was very strict. Nobody could interfere in his compositions. When people say things like, “Tony Allen used to put the drum patterns,” that was the biggest lie. Fela used to give everybody their parts, including Tony Allen. Yes, Tony Allen was a good drummer. But that he put the drum patterns, that was a big lie. Again, I'd like to let people know – all the journalists – that Fela never said, “Without Tony Allen, there would be no Afrobeat.” I think that quote must’ve come from Tony Allen’s camp on the internet. I think there are about three biographies about Fela, and Fela says nothing like that about Tony Allen in any of those books. Fela was very strict. He would call the rhythm section – which comprises of bass, guitars, and keyboard. He added the keyboard with the Egypt 80 band. Those musicians would play for maybe a week or so. Then he'd call the percussionists, which includes the drums. And when the groove was to Fela’s satisfaction, he’d bring in the horns and then rehearse for another week, or two or three weeks. Whilst all this is going on, he is putting lyrics. And when he’s convinced that this is the music he wants, then he starts to put the words and teach everybody the chorus lines, the singing parts. Then, he plays it in The Shrine [The Afrika Shrine was Fela's venue] for a couple of years. Then he records it. From the 1970s on, this was how he did recording.
He would record 100 percent live, correct?
Yes. But he used to overdub some parts sometimes after the full band recorded live. Solos, chorus, and his parts. This was when he felt some parts weren't performed to his satisfaction.
You say he was strict. Do you think he was stricter with you, or less strict since you were his son?
No, I think he was strict with everybody. When he came onstage you just had to keep quiet, be attentive, and play your part diligently – don't miss your notes! The only time he was strict with me was if I played the same solo line. He called me once and said, "Why are you always repeating the same solo?” I was quite upset then, but that helped me in future. That was about the only time, I would say, that he told me off. It seemed like he was telling me off, but probably it was just his only way of advising or correcting.
And what did you learn most about recording from him.
He didn't joke with his compositions or performance, or in the studio. But he could probably sometimes be a bit lenient in the studio, especially with the soloists. He’d let people play the solo, then ask, "Are you satisfied?” And whoever – the trumpeter, guitarist, saxophonist, me, or whoever – if you said you were satisfied, then we’d leave it. Let it go. He produced all his albums. He mixed it himself. He practically did everything himself. But he would always come to the studio or rehearsals very late.
Like, how late?
Very late. [laughs] He called practice for maybe 4 or 5 in the evening. He might not turn up until 10. And everybody had to be waiting. I mean, very late. Always late. [laughs]
What else do you remember about recording with him?
I think he was more of a composer than an instrumentalist himself. I remember when he was playing the trumpet, and he picked up the sax. He picked up the sax because he and the saxophonist had some issues. I love that saxophonist, Igo “Chico” Ojukwu. But when he left, that was why my father picked up the instrument. Then he taught himself the saxophone – to play the saxophone. But I think he never saw himself as an instrumentalist. He was more of a composer. Because the design process was really on his compositions. I would hear him practicing on his instruments, but…
What were the recording sessions like?
At the beginning, in the 1970s, the recordings were very intense. I'd been in a couple of those studio sessions. If you listen to the Africa 70 recordings, they were very intense. Maybe that was because he was younger then. He hadn't gone through so many beatings. They probably had not caught up yet. In the '80s, after his house was burned down, at this time, the intensity you could still find in his compositions. But there was a kind of nonchalantness about the recordings. Like, if there was a squeak on a horn, he would let it go. At that point, I think maybe he was more concerned about the message now being more important than the music. He wanted people to hear what was his political message, because now his house was burnt and his mother had been killed. Maybe the emphasis was more on the lyrics, not really the instrumentals. I think, towards the end, you see he was more concerned about those other things. He wasn't as strict with musicians as he used to be. He was kind of broke. He was banned from performing; politically. Many things were not happening for him. This could have been that he was under a lot of stress, maybe. It's very hard to know his complete state of mind, because he was always in deep thought. You could sense it. I think after the burning of his house, and after his mother died, he probably used them to see things from a different perspective. At first, he couldn't believe soldiers would burn his house. I'm sure that day was very impossible. It just seems so surrealistic. Everything just changed around him, I think. But he still tried to be happy. He still tried to find happiness in music. But you could see that that was a very big blow in his life.
Yes. Understandably. What’s the biggest number of musicians you ever played together with Fela?
It was 73 people. He just took his whole household. In 1979, he was the first Nigerian musician to have an international tour. He was invited to the Philharmonie Berlin, and he had two shows. I think he was paid $100,000 for two shows. He said, “Wow, this is my opportunity to take everybody. I want you all to see Europe! You all have to see Europe.” And he took practically everybody in the house. I mean, everybody. He also always took people from his political party with him. I think the Egypt '80 band definitely had the biggest amount of musicians. They had twelve dancers, eight singers, two baritones, two tenors, two trumpets, and one or two saxes. He would travel with three drummers, and also three percussionists. Bass, treble guitar, rhythm guitar, and two keyboardists. And then the next tour was Italy, but that Italian tour broke down because it was for the Communist Party. And this girl – who confessed she was used by the CIA – planted 49 kilos of marijuana in Fela’s luggage. Luckily, he got it on tape, and that was why he got out of that case.
Martin Meissonnier
A French music producer and film composer, Meissonnier has worked with such artists as King Sunny Adé, Tony Allen, Manu Dibango, Papa Wemba, Amina Annabi, Don Cherry, as well as Robert Plant and Jimmy Page. <martinmeissonnier.com>
How did you start working with Fela?
I saw that Fela was in jail in Italy in 1980. I went to see him after he’d just gotten out of jail. He was there for three or four days. Someone in his group had brought 43 kilos of grass in his baggage and Fela was arrested, but he was freed very quickly. I met him there, and I offered him a tour deal of Europe. He accepted. He said, “If you come to Nigeria, we can sign a deal.” Okay, cool. I went to Nigeria. He was actually mixing the track “I.T.T. (International Thief Thief).” That was in the studio [Batakota/ARC, Associated Recording Co.)] that was founded in 1973 by Ginger Baker and then used by Paul McCartney for [Wings'] Band on the Run. It was supposedly the first 16-track on the continent. The studio was in a very bad shape – there were only 11 channels out of 16 on the console that were working. In order to do the EQ on one track, the engineer had to pull out of the strip of a working track on the console, blow on it to clean out the dust, and then stick it into another slot. It was very impressive, because Fela would really know what he wanted, as far as sound. He was extremely precise. It was really surprising how good the record was sounding, considering the quality of the studio at that time. The Black President record came out and we did the tour. I got him the record deal with Arista [Records]. Then we did another album, Original Sufferhead. That one we did in Paris, in a proper studio called Studio Aquarium. That's where we re-recorded the originals of “Original Sufferhead” and "Power Show!” It was completely chaotic, because we had 70 people from Nigeria alone on tour. There were also the French staff on top of that.
How many of those were musicians?
Probably 19 or 20, and there were also eight backing singers. It was really interesting, because Fela would record everything all at once, all instruments at once. The only thing he wouldn’t record were his sax solo and his keyboard solo.
But he'd do his vocals with the band?
Yes, in one take. What Fela would do was that he would perform the tracks with his band for months. Then he’d record with the band live. Once he'd recorded it, he would never play the song again. After the track was recorded, that was it. When the band would go in the studio, they knew exactly what they were doing. When Fela would make his solos, he had the same type of feeling that artists like [John] Coltrane, Don Cherry, or Albert Ayler – all these jazz artists – had. Like, “I do one take and that's it. If there is a little mistake or something, that's part of the feeling.” He would not do it again. So, that's what you hear on the records. It's very raw. As far as the mixing, it was really interesting, the way it would be done. At that time, Tony Allen wasn’t in the band anymore. The bass drum would be mixed lower than the bass guitar, and the congas would be very prominent as well. It was extremely interesting, the way Fela's architecture of the sound was built. You can hear that in the tracks.
The bass drum would be low, but the congas would be high?
Yeah, exactly.
Were they all in one big room, or were they separated?
Yeah, there was one big room.
And he was in the same room singing?
Absolutely, yeah.
And that was the album [Original Sufferhead] that you produced?
So, no. When you say “produce,” I can say with Fela you don't produce. You just shut your mouth and do what he says.
You'd got him a record deal with Arista, then you did those two albums with him.
Exactly, yeah. But Arista dropped us very quickly because Fela refused that we do radio edits for singles. The sales wouldn't follow with no radio play. We did two tours in three months, and then I helped hooking up the film, Music is the Weapon. I was fired in the middle of the film by Fela. Fela was not happy because I started working with Tony Allen – Fela was very unhappy with that. Also, I started working with King Sunny Adé. Fela didn't like that either. Island Records was interested in signing Fela, but Fela was already signed to Arista at the time. I suggested Island sign King Sunny Adé, and also to do an album with Tony Allen and Sandra Izsadore, who was the former partner of Fela’s, who turned him onto the Black Panthers. For King Sunny Adé, Island hooked me up with a sound engineer, Godwin Logie. We also recorded with a French woman, sound engineer Katherine Lesevre, and she was very good. She was working at Fela's place in Lagos, Nigeria, at the time as a live sound engineer.
What microphones were you using for Fela’s vocals, amidst all of this with the noise of a big band playing in the same room?
A Neumann U 87 for his vocals. And that was that. There was no automation then. All of us, we were doing the fader moves together all at once for mixing.
Was Fela one of the people doing the faders with you?
Absolutely!
Did you use baffles for the different players? You were all in one room, but did you put baffles in between?
Yeah, as much as possible.
How would things work on tour with him?
Fela would do the soundcheck himself. He wanted to be next to the sound engineer as the band was rehearsing. After that, he didn't want anybody to touch the board. The problem is that when the audience came in, the whole sound was changed. It's a very big difference when you have an empty hall and then you have a room full of people. It was always a bit of a tense process, because it was not easy for a sound engineer to mix.
I’ve heard that the shows would start late a lot.
Yes, always late. It was never on time. I mean, we were always looking for people. We had two buses to search. At the end of the tour, we’d lost 11 people out of the 70. They just disappeared. It was very chaotic. But Fela himself was also often late.
And then they would perform for how long, usually?
In Europe, they would perform for two hours or something like that. In Lagos, at The Shrine, he would perform for five, six hours – all night. The thing with Fela is that nothing was improvised. Even his solos; he was so well written. What was fascinating with Fela is that his solos were absolutely very precise and written, and so once he would play the song live there were no changes.
He would write out the solos on paper?
