Antibalas Afrobeat Orchestra: The Essentials Of Afrobeat (Interview With Martin Perna)

The homepage for the Antibalas Afrobeat Orchestra website reads atop –

LIES + GREED ÷ FEAR = WAR, NON-SENSICAL IDEOLOGY CALLED WAR… OUR THOUGHTS AND PRAYERS GO TO THE PEOPLE SUFFERING IN IRAQ, THE CIVILIANS AND THE SOLDIERS. MAY THIS NONSENSE END SOON…

Aside from lyrical turns into the West African language of Yoruba, there is no hidden message within the music of Brooklyn based Antibalas. Spanish for “bullet proof” literally “anti-bullets,” Antibalas is the next generation of afro-beat in the tradition of Fela Anikulapo-Kuti, the leading exponent and originator of this multi-dimensional sound.

This fourteen-plus band brings a relentless attack of R&B; style horn figures, call and response chanting, horns, bass, funk-styled guitar chords within a polyrhythmic euphoria. But it’s the band’s radical social conscience that speaks, transforms, and unites audiences. Antibalas encompasses a union of Latinos, whites, African-Americans, Africans and Asian Americans – further embellishing world music not only in sound, but also in physical diversity.

Saxophonist Martin Perna formed Antibalas in Brooklyn, back in 1998, and they later released their first album Liberation Afrobeat Vol. 1, on the UK-based Ninjatune label in 2001. Aside from relentless touring and a follow up album Talkatif in 2002, Antibalas has steadily grown into a full-fledged orchestra to complement Perna’s passion for afro-beat – an urban West African dance-while-you-protest style that modernized traditional Yoruba music. A die-hard Kuti fan himself, Perna has toured mercilessly with his large ensemble, despite the outrageous costs and logistics involved. Keeping the spirit of Kuti alive is a priority for everyone involved in Antibalas.

As the band continues to win over the jazz, rock, DJ, world music and jam band crowds – the word is quickly starting to spread. From playing world-renowned festivals – Antibalas is traveling the world its mission and conviction intact. With a new album due out shortly on Ropeadope Records, we spoke with founder and saxophonist Martin Perna about his ever-evolving ensemble.

There’s a lot of music going on during your sets. Can you give a breakdown of all the musicians on stage at once?

Yeah, we have a horn section, a trombone, a trumpet, tenor sax and baritone sax, conga, shekere, a lot of percussions, drums, organ, and electric piano, bass, two electric guitars, and a singer. So it’s an orchestra for sure, closer to a salsa orchestra.

There’s been a strong family of musicians in Brooklyn, with a bunch of guys on the cutting edge of soul, funk and Afrobeat movement for the past few years. Are they all on the same wave-length as you in terms of getting this sound out to the masses?

Some of the guys are definitely into music and put music into everything they are doing. A couple of other people are involved more in other things – community stuff, and political stuff…so that influences us. People are sympathetic to it, but some people are just focused on their music and everybody plays a different role in that whole thing.

Instead of just starting a band, you’re more or less helping to start a movement here in the states. So as you present this particular style, do you credit the rise in audience interest more to Afrobeat or the more familiar elements of funk and jazz you include?

It’s a little bit of everything really. Afrobeat addresses a lot of things. Thinks have gotten so downsized and synthesized that there is very little of the essence left. You can be talking about music, food, architecture and I think people have a natural yearning for wanting more, wanting something handmade, and that’s what this music is, as it’s made by a lot of hands.

So, there’s that and there’s also a political frustration, frustration of powerless. People feel like – “man, we see so much funny stuff going on with George Bush and the wars and the oils and healthcare,” but they don’t see anything in the news, but they know something is wrong. So when they hear a group that’s like – “hey we think there’s something funny too and we’re not afraid to say it when we perform” – they respond positively to that. Finally there’s somebody out there saying something. So that’s important too.

Also, the United States is an African country just as much as it’s a European country, although people try to deny that in every chance they can get. So, here we are playing a music that is explicitly African and giving Africa credit, so in a way people are kind of like “wow.” We’re trying to make the more direct connection with Africa and acknowledge its role in shaping our culture.

It has been said more than once that Antibalas distinctly revolves around the spirit of Fela Kuti. Why do you think his music hasn’t caught on within American culture to level of a Bob Marley?

A lot of it has to do with the marketing, rather than the music. Bob Marley had a huge amount of support from Island records and Chris Blackwell, who really wanted to sell a future in marketing reggae music and really put a lot of money behind the Wailers and all these other rock people – like the Rolling Stones picked Peter Tosh to go on tour. They were very sympathetic to that. Like Fela didn’t really having anybody backing him like that. Plus, the songs were not really radio-friendly, they were like 15 minutes long. Whenever the [issue of shortening a song] ever came up, he said “no, you can’t do that, it’s like circumcising the song, you can’t do that.” The music really doesn’t lend itself to the modern commercial radio format. So, I think a lot of it is just marketing and an economic factor. If the music is, I don’t want to [draw comparisons and say one is better than the other], but Fela’s music is rich and so dense and there is so much going on. When people hear it, they are immediately like “what the hell is this, why have I not heard it before? I thought I knew something about music, and what is this? Every time anybody who likes songs or likes reggae or salsa, the minute they hear Afrobeat music, it really revs people.

When did you first discover Fela’s music?

My first tiny taste was back in ’90 or ’91, but it was only through a sample of him. But it was through that point that I really began my formal music education. I got into some soul, R & B, and jazz, but I was really into hip-hop at the early age. But what I really liked even more about hip-hop was the musical traditions that they were drawing on – Isaac Hayes and James Brown and all of the soul jazz from the late 60’s and early 70’s and then other stuff. And among that was Fela and that was my first taste of him. Then a couple years later in college, I started to collect vinyl and started to dig up his records. It cost me $40 and a lot of it wasn’t even his finest work, but just whatever happened to be released in the states.

How do you feel about the constant comparison between Antibalas and him?

That is the physical architecture, and it is definitely nice. What is frustrating, and a lot of it is our fault, is we need to record more, because a lot of people are basing their writing on what we recorded and not the actual [live] music we are making. It’s very festive music and it needs to be experienced live, so when you write about the CD or something it’s like to trying to write about the subject of sex, but you’re only experience is having seen a porno film. It’s very derivative, you’re not actually there participating. So, when you come to the show it’s a participatory thing, it’s not something you sit and watch – it’s something you do. And that’s where it’s at, because there is constant improvisation, we’re constantly playing new songs and works in progress and some stuff we will never record.

Did you know when you were forming the band you would be forming the body of the band according to the live performances rather than studio efforts?

I think we all would like to perform more, but we need to go on tour and we don’t have anybody backing us, so there’s never a point where we can be like “ok, lets chill, lets make a record.” We try to find time in between bustling for money, that we can record.

Is it possible to condense your format into a five-minute song fitting for radio?

We don’t want to do that, because it interferes with the actual essence of the music. It’s like meditation, you really can’t truncate it. There’s an architecture of it, as it’s patient music and it’s not in a hurry, so the minute you try and hurry it, you compromise the quality of it.

Last year you opened up the Bonnaroo Festival. Did you feel like that was a breakout performance for the band?

You know, it was an exciting place to be, but we never really view one show in a different light than another. They are all important to us, or why are we doing it. It’s not like one group of people is more important or we need to impress this group of people or if there is a bunch of industry people. Really, I don’t want to sound callous, the people that we want to impress weren’t even there. They are there, but they are not in the physical form – our ancestors, our teachers, the people who really know and who have taught us.

Have you been able to play in front of some of your inspirations?

Definitely, a lot of them. It’s been a real honor to collaborate musically and to have been visited by several members of Fela’s band, including Tony Allen and Zandra Isadore and getting to play with James Brown, stuff like that is really heavy. It might make people more nervous or tingly, but as a group, we are just like “ok, we got to go out and do it.”

Has Femi Kuti (Fela’s son) caught you yet?

Yeah, we’ve played with him, and he’s played with us, but actually collaborating on stage, we’ve gotten together, so yeah there’s a mutual admiration.

You’ve also taken Antibalas abroad as well?

Yeah, we went to about 15 countries in Europe last summer. We played from Ireland all the way to Turkey. We were just recently in Spain for a couple days and England, and we traveled extensively in Canada and did the whole national jazz circuit.

Does the band play with a different energy according to the culture?

I don’t think in our minds, we don’t do anything differently. On a whole, it depends on how they react. When we were in Spain, people were warm, so we just got down quicker, so we respond to that cause it’s energy to energy. If it’s a cold crowd, it’s going to be a lot more effort for us. If they are already warmed up, and they come ready to dance, than it’s like “o.k. let’s get down to business.” It’s like if you’re on a date, and you have to sit around for four hours and try to make small talk – it takes a lot of energy to do that.

How was it in Ireland?

Ireland was crazy! Especially in Galway which was on the west coast. But what was particularly cool about that was that the entire Nigerian community came out to see us. So a third of the club was Nigerian on the far coast of Ireland.

Another thing too, is we’ll be in Alabama, and someone will be like “yeah we saw you in Istanbul!”

When you perform, your lyrics are in the background, letting the music move the crowd.

In a live sense, the [lyrics] are not as essential to the music. The vocal part is, but the lyrics themselves aren’t. There is a lot of call and response which is adlibbed, between the audience and the singer, and that’s what is important – the engaging stuff, where we are singing with the audience and not necessarily at them.

Have there ever been nights where the band simply can’t find their groove?

No, but it requires a lot of concentration, and there will be times when one person will drop the ball, but that is the thing with having such a big group, as you are having so many people supporting it. So, it’s important that everyone is on. It’s not a license to slack off, but if you fall off for a second, the rest of the band is there to catch you. They’ll give you a dirty look or let you hear about it, if it happens too much, but it’s definitely a strength in numbers thing.

What is the most gratifying part of being in such a large band?

A lot of it is just to see people’s reactions – “oh my God there is so many of them” and just to show people that is possible to have something big and collaborative. You can do a lot of very powerful things if you can get people together in the right mind space and have something good you are working for collectively – whether it is a food-coop or a credit union. There are really beautiful things you can do, if you get a lot of people together.

So, would you consider Antibalas an ambassador of Afrobeat?

As far as taking it and sharing it with different people, I think people tend to see us in that light.

Can you give us five Afrobeat records everyone should own?

For Fela I would get The ’69 Los Angeles SessionsZombieBeasts of No Nation, which is the beginning, middle and end of his career. And I would get a compilation called Nigeria 70, and I would get James Brown – Mother Popcorn.

James Brown?

‘Cause there is so much interplay between James Brown and Fela. They never had a direct connection, but indirectly, in musicians in their bands, we’re both copying off each other and vice versa.

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