Dominicans fete late, and even after three nights of nonstop music there must be upwards of 4,000 people waiting to hear the last band. As Haiti's most famous kompa group - Tabou Combo - takes the stage, exhaustion is dispelled by their relaxed "C'est Tambou", an invitation to a dancing-at-dawn session which continues long after the sun has climbed into the sky. The Haitians in the press box break into spontaneous dance, some straying on-stage; couples slip into each others' arms, moving in effortless elegance, and Dominica's minister of tourism, Norris Prevost, inquires whether this is not the best party I've ever seen. Haiti's Magnum Band with St. Lucian Luther Francois on sax blasted away the wee-hours fatigue with flowing funk and konpa over vodou rhythms and soaring lyrical soukous guitar. It was nearly 7:30 a.m. when Guadeloupe's Taxi Creole ended a tight, driving set which drew on zouk, salsa, merengue, beguine, reggae, jazz and funk.
The Mystic Revelation of Rastafari, a group of Nyabinghi ceremonial drummers founded by the legendary Count Ossie in the 1950s, is not only making its New York debut but is raising the curtain on the Lincoln Center for the Performing Arts' "Caribbean Roots: Caribbean Routes" festival. Chris Combette, who has been collaborating with Mungal Patasar on several tracks for his new album, opened the show with his beautiful fusion of Caribbean styles - samba, salsa, soca, bossa nova, reggae and zouk sweeping over the auditorium like warm waves. Based in French Guiana, bordering Brazil, Combette has soaked up the melodies of the region, while his lyrics address the nostalgia or alienation of the immigrant, and racist murder in the metropole. Beneath his sinuous, sometimes ethereal music lurked incisive Kwéyol irony and melancholy metaphors. It was left to Kali and his banjo to bring down the curtain on the festival with his brilliant reworking of Martiniquan traditional music, mazurk, biguine, chouval bwa, gwo ka (from Guadeloupe) with reggae, funk and jazz. It was good to hear St. Lucian Luther François, one of the Caribbean's foremost contemporary composers and sax players, adding punch to this excellent band and the finale of a significant festival for Caribbean music.
There's tendency among some reggae fans to tune out most of today's dancehall deejays, dismissing them as untalented shysters. While that's an essentially justifiable reaction, there are deejays - mostly of the conscious variety - who are worthy of our attention. One in particular is Prezident Brown. Tune out his new release - To Jah Only - and you'll deprive yourself of a relevant body of work that's likely to sway and have you listening for more of this style. To Jah Only is a neat package that adroitly intertwines the traditional with the contemporary. The title track, which leads the album, gently combines slow guitar picks with Nyabinghi drumming, amid Brown's assiduous delivery of some trusty Rasta melodies. The familiar Duppy Conqueror rhythm by Bob Marley is acquired on In This Life, and it's superimposed with a message that counsels mankind about his covetous ways. This theme is also continued with Pomps and Pride. One of the livelier tracks is Micro Chip, and Brown does a nice job keeping pace with a very demanding tempo. But the strongest is undoubtedly Faith - an instant classic that unveils Brown's versatility and true talent. His encyclopedic expressionism sets him apart from the ordinary, and he's truly one of our best links between the past and the present. [Dean Fraser]'s latest album - Retrospect - is a delightfully appetizing reminiscence of classic hits that are masterfully reproduced for everyone's listening pleasure. With 12 tracks, this album takes you back to mento, through ska, roots, and up to the present.
The term "world beat music" is less than a decade old. The music is a genre defined by the heads of a number of small London-based record labels who found that their records from Africa, Latin America and the Caribbean were not finding rack space. Major record stores had no obvious place for these unclassified sounds. The average listeners have not. Today the major record chains - Spec's, Best Buy, and others - have responded to buyers' demand to make available music from Africa, Cuba, Jamaica, Brazil and Latin America. Finding releases from Senegal's Kouding Cissoko or Baaba Maal is no problem. Finding the Afro-French, hip-hop sound of Les Nubians is simple; so finding the music of Nacio from Dominica, Gilberto Gil from Brazil, or Bamboleo of Cuba.
