No one really knows where Funtown is, except that it’s someplace that (allegedly) exists outside of Louisville, Kentucky. It’s not on maps. You won’t find it in your dog-eared copy of Lonely Planet: Kentucky. Hell, Google won’t even help. But Bonny “the artist formerly known as ‘Bonnie Prince’” Billy (née Will Oldham) and a virtually unknown group of musicians called The Picket Line recorded a live album there and called it Funtown Comedown. And theirs is exactly the kind of sound you’d expect to come from a group called Bonny Billy & The Picket Line playing at some unmapped place in the backwoods of Kentucky: nasally folk that vacillates from quiet to wild and sounds even better if everyone sings along. Verdict: Buy it (because, in the spirit of all things Funtown, it’s only out on vinyl)
23-year-old Matthew Freeman is facing a year in jail for violating Michigan’s laws for convicted sex offenders. He was caught by a police officer playing basketball within 400 feet of a school. He also happened to be in front of his own home. Michigan law requires him to remain more than 1,000 feet away from places where children congregate. Freeman’s mother says she checked with Pittsfield Township police before moving to the home to be sure it complied with Freeman’s status. She says they told her it did. They now say it’s Freeman’s responsibility to make sure he doesn’t violate the sex offender law.
Freeman was convicted of fourth-degree sexual assault in 2003 for having sex with his 15-year-old girlfriend. He was 17 at the time. The conviction required him to spend 10 years on the state’s sex offender list. After seeing the girl again and later getting caught stealing a video game, he was sentenced to 90 days in jail, and ordered to remain on the list until 2028. At that point he dropped out of high school, and hasn’t gone back.
But let’s not be too harsh on Michigan’s law. I’m sure that because of the continuing harassment of people like Freeman, 17-year-boys and 15-year-old girls are no longer having sex in Michigan.
Israel has reacted angrily to the issuing by a British court of an arrest warrant for the former Israeli Foreign Minister, Tzipi Livni.
The warrant, granted by a London court on Saturday, was revoked on Monday when it was found Ms Livni was not visiting the UK.
Ms Livni was foreign minister during Israel's Gaza assault last winter.
It is the first time a UK court has issued a warrant for the arrest of a former Israeli minister.
Ms Livni said the court had been "abused" by the Palestinian plaintiffs who requested the warrant.
"What needs to be put on trial here is the abuse of the British legal system," she told the BBC.
"This is not a suit against Tzipi Livni, this is not a law suit against Israel. This is a lawsuit against any democracy that fights terror."
She stood by her decisions during the three-week assault Gaza offensive which began in December last year, she said.
Israel's foreign ministry summoned the UK's ambassador to Israel to deliver a rebuke over the warrant.
We completely reject this absurdity taking place in Britain
Benjamin Netanyahu
Israeli Prime Minister
Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu said the situation was "an absurdity".
"We will not accept a situation in which [former Israeli Prime Minister] Ehud Olmert, [Defence Minister] Ehud Barak and Tzipi Livni will be summoned to the defendants' chair," Mr Netanyahu said in a statement.
"We will not agree to have Israel Defence Force soldiers, who defended the citizens of Israel bravely and ethically against a cruel and criminal enemy(!), be recognised as war criminals. We completely reject this absurdity taking place in Britain," he said.
Pro-Palestinian campaigners have tried several times to have Israeli officials arrested under the principle of universal jurisdiction...
Deluxe package includes a 100-page book,
2 CDs and a DVD
HERE LIES LOVE
David Byrne & Fatboy Slim
To be released 23 February 2010 on Todomundo/Nonesuch Records
“The story I am interested in is about asking what drives a powerful person—what makes them tick? How do they make and then remake themselves? I thought to myself, wouldn’t it be great if—as this piece would be principally composed of clubby dance music—one could experience it in a club setting? Could one bring a ‘story’ and a kind of theater to the disco? Was that possible? If so, wouldn’t that be amazing!” DB
featuring guests-Florence Welch (Florence + The Machine),Allison Moorer,Róisín Murphy,Alice Russell,Santigold ...
more HERE
With the news that ABBA & Genesis (amongst others) will be joining The Stooges in the 2010 Rock'n'Roll Hall of Fame, I can forsee a 'Lamb Lies Down On Broadway' (with Gabriel) world tour and ABBA selling a shitload of CD's.
Fuck I do wish that I was going to be at Hammersmith....
Sexism, sadly, is what comes through most strongly in Carlos Moore's Fela: This Bitch of a Life, the newly rereleased 1982 authorized biography of Africa's greatest musician, Fela Anikulapo Kuti. Well, sexism and police brutality. The book, translated from the French, is essentially a well-organized and very long interview of Fela at his peak. For die-hard fans of the originalBlack President this may be a enticing read, but the average yuppie with an eclectic taste in music is probably better off checking out the Fela Project.
Fela is an natural topic for Moore, a scholar of race who's led a very interesting life in his own right. Fela's anticolonial message is a powerful one and there's a lot to like about his politics and worldview
This is the Fela who was sold to me as a teenager into Bob Dylan, jam bands, and reggae. The Fela who created his own republic inside of Nigeria as an act of defiance, who relentlessly criticized the corrupt military regimes, who sang a song ("Zombie") that actually triggered riots, who went to court more than 200 times and was unjustly in and out of prison his entire adult life. That's all there, of course—and just how many times Fela and his crew were beaten, tortured, and imprisoned by the Nigerian authorities is a staggering reality that leaps out of Moore's book.
But chances are you know about all that if you're picking up Fela: This Bitch of a Life. What you probably didn't know, but will learn in Chapter 20, is that "the law that says: 'Don't fuck until you're sixteen,' turns men into homosexuals and women into lesbians" or that "pollution, religion, and food... are the causes of homosexuality." When it comes to women, the quotes are laughable: "Men and women are on two different levels," and "Equality between male and female? No! Never! Impossible!" and, the topper, "Do I see man as being naturally superior to women? Naturally."
A 65-page segment in the middle of the book consists of the same short interview conducted with each of the 15 wives, or queens, he had at the time (down from 27 at his mass marriage.) In nearly all the interviews the women admit that Fela had, on multiple occasions, slapped them, but that yes, they liked living with him.
A short paragraph describing the personal history and physical appearance of each wife reads like the plaque in front of an animal at a petting zoo ("Of average height and plumply slender, her broad, round face is studded with large, sensitive eyes and an expression of alert awareness.") Moore isn't doing much to empower the women or critique the hyperpatriarchy, and at one point asks a queen if she likes Fela's penis. In this case, giving a voice to the voiceless doesn't amount to anything and these pages are a bitch of a read.
How Fela became such a profound sexist is actually quite interesting because, unlike most people, he wasn't born that way. Fela's mother was a pioneering feminist activist, an incredible woman who in her capacity as president of the Women's International Democratic Federation traveled the world, met with Mao personally, and was awarded the Lenin Peace Prize in 1960. Fela's own attitudes towards women emerged later, when, after living as an outsider in the racist London of the early 1960s and befriending Black Power advocates in the United States, he rediscovered his Africanness. Thus began a lifelong and entirely uncritical embrace of traditional African values, among them a very low opinion of women, formal education, and the threat of AIDS, of which he would die in 1997. A Mother Jones interview of Nobel Prize-winning Nigerian author Wole Soykinka mentions this specifically:
MJ: You write about your cousin, musician Fela Kuti, and how you think his own politics were kind of naive… WS: Not think, were! He was a passionate Africanist. But his definition and embrace of Africanism did not discriminate: Anything that was African was positive. You would never hear a word against Idi Amin, against the monsters. He always accused me of being a CIA agent when I was campaigning against Idi Amin. He’d say, “Boss”—he called me “Boss”—“Boss Wole, don’t be influenced by the CIA people.” I said, “Shut up, you don’t know anything about it!”
To his credit, Moore has added a fabulous epilogue chronicling the decline and fall of Fela, contextualizing many of the performer's views within a life that was puntuated by violence, incarceration, and illness. He also sets Fela alongside James Brown and Bob Marley as "the only 20th century musicians to have electrified the world with explicitly anti-establishment and unapologetically ghetto-inspired black music."
Unlike Marley, Fela was an angry political organizer in open conflict with the state. You've got to give Fela props for not selling out. He could have acquiesced to the demands of western record companies, moved to Europe or the US, made millions selling a vague African revolution, and have his poster hanging in every college dorm room in the world, right between Che and Marley. Instead he decided to set up a massive commune in the middle of one of the poorest parts of Lagos, loudly and specifically criticize Nigeria's military regimes, and give away all his money to friends, hangers on, and the poor. He died broke and crazy, of AIDS, and 1 million people filed by his glass casket, where he was laid to rest with a joint in his hand. "No one will force me out of this country," he once said. "If it is not fit to live in, then our job is to make it fit."
Ultimately, Fela's story is a tragic one, a fact too easily forgotten while listening to his often mirthful, raucous albums. Reading Moore's book restores an emotional weight to a music that was forged in protest, under duress, suffering from grief. The mournful ballad "Trouble Sleep Yanga Wake Am," will leave your soul aching. This is Fela, he of the bitch of a life.
This article was originally published in Mean Magazine (October 1999), with art direction by Camille Rose Garcia, and an overview of Fela’s catalog by Michael Veal; the main article text, and sidebars, were later reprinted in full in the Da Capo Best Music Writing 2000 book (thank you Douglas Wolk and Peter Guralnick). Main article text is online here: http://www.arthurmag.com/2009/11/02/fela-king-of-the-invisible-art BILL LASWELL
by Jay Babcock Bill Laswell is a bassist, producer and, having worked with countless important musicians from dozens of countries, one of the vortex points around which the musical universe revolves. I spoke with Laswell about his controversial work with Fela…
Q: When did you first get into Fela’s music? Bill Laswell: When I started listening to Cream and stuff, I started to read interviews with people like Ginger [Baker] about where they were getting their stuff from. Just like [Eric] Clapton was getting ideas from blues guys, I realized that rhythm musicians were getting a lot of information from Africa. I immediately started looking for the records, especially Afrobeat. Just that syncopation, the up feel. You get ideas about putting rhythms together.
Those early bands Fela had were really tight. This African guy told me James Brown had just ‘messed him up’—well, Fela had bands that were almost like that. I don’t think as aggressively tight, but it had a feel, an Afrobeat, African feel, with a modern sound. How did you end up producing Army Arrangement?
At that time in Paris in ‘84 or ‘85, Celluloid was the label that all African, or West African, everybody, was going to them for some reason. And they got ahold of Fela’s contract and his catalog and they just started calling the shots. Fela was on his way to New York to come and we were going to mix the record when he came.
On the way to New York, getting on the plane in Nigeria, he had something like ten grand in cash in US dollars, I think. He was immediately put in jail, the tapes arrived, and the Celluloid people were like, ‘Well great, let’s go ahead and mix it. Let’s capitalize on the fact that he’s in jail, we’ll get more press.’ But the tapes I received weren’t really musical or necessarily well-recorded. So we felt that if we just mixed it, it wouldn’t bring anything new to what Fela’s legend was. So we added Sly Dunbar, Bernie Worrell and Aiyb Dieng from Senegal. Did you ever meet Fela?
[When he got out of jail,] Fela did a press tour in the States. He was at the Gramercy Hotel in New York. I went there and he was sitting around his room wearing a shirt and some underwear and sitting in a lotus position on the couch, a bunch of people coming in and out, and we spoke for a few minutes. He was kind of amazed that I would come because he had said that he didn’t like what I had done. There was an African magazine where I was quoted as saying, “It’s much better to mix an artist’s work if they’re in prison.” Some really stupid shit. And that freaked him out. And he was saying that there was a sound that wasn’t African that I put on the album. [But] it was a Senegalese drummer, so of course it’s African.
It’s very interesting because everybody thought I wouldn’t go meet him, so I just went in anyway. By that time he had started to deteriorate, he wasn’t as strong. You could feel he wasn’t the person he was. He just
wasn’t the presence that he was before. And it showed in the music too, because in the ’70s Fela had a really strong band and then he just got kind of more lighter and lighter. And then a lot of weird shit came into that scene… That was a heavy scene. They were around some heavy people. Cuz he was the BIGGEST thing happening in Nigeria, and there’s some heavy stuff in Nigeria—not all positive.
@'Arthur'
"...Sadly, the remaster is a fiasco. The soft tones of 'Computer Love' become sharp, the wide spaces of 'Home Computer' contract into tunnels and 'Pocket Calculator' bears down on us like a spiked ceiling in a horror film. Equally poor is the remaster of 'Radioactivity', where atmospheric crackles and hisses have been removed by noise reduction software. For pity's sake, they're part of the music..."
-David Cavanagh (Uncut 11/09) (I even went so far as to get a hold of the German language versions for comparison!) Having said that...check this out...