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"WES" is Wes Madiko, but he is
known throughout Europe and Africa simply as Wes. He grew up
in Mouataba (which means "peaceful soul"), Cameroon.
Music came to Wes at the early age of seven, when his grandfather,
a Bantou spiritual leader, taught him the traditional instrument,
the sanza. While his early learning was local, the events leading
to the album "Welenga" were very much international.
He followed his girlfriend to France, where he left a copy of
a tape of his traditional Bantou music in a record store. Chance
led Michel Sanchez, of "Deep Forest," to that record
store, where he heard Wes' music. Soon they struck up a friendship.
They spent three and one half years working together to find
a mesh of modern and traditional music. The result is the album,
"Welenga," which means "universal consciousness."
The music on "Welenga" sounds
much like other African based rock, such as Johnny Clegg's two
bands, "Juluka" and "Savuka," or Youssou
N'Dour, but also has the element of the electronicized "Deep
Forest." It really is a successful meshing of the traditional
and modern rock of Africa. For those less familiar with world
music, the best U. S. comparisons are Peter Gabriel's forays
into African rock with Youssou N'Dour, and Paul Simon's on "Graceland."
But those two artists' works pale in comparison to the genuine
article. There is an energy in this music that I've found nowhere
else. Clegg in particular brings an intense energy, serenity
and happiness to his music, meshing traditional Zulu elements
with the modern. Now Wes and Sanchez do the same for Bantou music.
"Awa Awa" opens with Sanchez's
signature synthesizer from "Deep Forest." The sound
is smooth and dramatic. Guitar and drum machine come in for the
chorus. Deep backing vocals contrast with Wes' high lead vocals,
which remind me of Youssou N'Dour. The title words, "Awa
Awa," are choppy over the chorus, creating a sharpness.
The song closes with electronic cymbals, and speaks of physical
love as an offering for divine love, fleeting ecstatic joy for
the joy of the eternal.
"Alane" begins with female vocals
and an eerie Arabic sounding synthesizer, then Wes brings in
a disco style beat. The song speeds up with the chorus. In an
odd way, the chorus parts of the song remind me of "Crash
Test Dummies." It has a strange mixture of styles, but seems
to work. It's about the pettiness which we become engulfed in,
and the need to overcome it to make connections with others.
"Kekana" utilizes what I think is synthesizer in imitation
of African squeeze box. The beat is closer to Ska than anything
else. Portions of the song contain rap which began in Africa
centuries ago.
Another Arabic sounding female vocal winds
its way through synthesizer on the intro for "Wezale."
A more contemplative song, the synthesizer is richer, the beat
slower. It features an initiation tale a grandfather would pass
on to his grandson before he makes his way into the world, to
prepare his spiritual self for the journey. It comemorates Wes'
special connection with his own grandfather. The two vocal styles
he uses alternate as in a conversation. "Ken Mouka"
has an electronic dance beat, squeaky, flute-like synthesizer
and childlike backing vocals. The story is of youthful fear,
planning and disappointment. Wes and Sanchez capture the feeling
these events bring on well.
"Mizobiya" begins with haunting
synthesizer; a call from one set of notes is answered by another.
Wes' vocal is varied again, like a conversation between three
people. Wes takes on another persona for the song at times, that
of the beggar. The message carried by the song is that salvation
comes from a return to the land of one's ancestors. It has depth
and atmosphere to spare, room enough to stretch out and relax.
At the end there's a rest followed by chanting, then African
drum takes over to close the song. "Degue Wegue" features
a tearful sounding vocal over Sanchez' synthesizer rhythms. The
synthesizer builds slowly, finally joined by a fast paced beat
and happy rhythm. The contrasts represent man's inhumanity to
man and the hope for change.
"Welenga" is somber at its inception;
soft synthesizer and vocal help to set the mood. The song changes,
the instruments becoming heavier and the vocals more varied.
The viewpoint of the song is that universal consciousness will
help steel us against a materialistic attitude. We shift gears
completely with the heavy electronic beat which establishes the
direction in "We Don't Need No War." This is the only
song with words in English. The female vocals providing the language
are warm and inviting. The ominous mood set by the Sanchez' synthesizer
creates the feeling that war is just around the next corner.
The message is of hope, though.
"Midiwa Bol," which means "I
Love Football," has a Latin feel to it. The song's purpose
is to express joy and happiness. A football crowd, complete with
referee whistles creates a backdrop for the song. The sportscaster
comments on the game in English. Otherwise, the song is in an
African tongue.
"Welenga" is a strong album,
with diverse influences. The combination of traditional material
and Sanchez' "Deep Forest" style synthesizer doesn't
always mesh well, but it always makes for an interesting mix.
The album would make for a good introduction to world music.
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