Photo Credits: Image Courtesy Of Calabash Music
Samputu
The tenth anniversary of the Rwanda genocide offers an occasion for reflection that the world has largely shied away from. Of course, nowhere is this reflection more important than within Rwanda itself, so it is heartening to find such a strong musical voice emerging from the country with songs that remember the horrors of a decade ago, but also offer a hopeful vision for the future.
Samputu sings in six languages with a powerful, nuanced voice, part Joseph Shabalala, part Lokua Kanza, and part Lionel Ritchie. The songs on his international debut recording span soaring balladry, village celebration, and Congolese dance music. If this all sounds too sunny for a singer who lost his parents and four siblings in the genocide, rest assured that there is plenty of melancholy woven into these 14 tracks. But Samputu's main objective is not to so much to probe the causes of his nation's ethnic holocaust, but rather to help the country rise to its feet and chart a more positive course for the future, with God's help.
Born in 1962, Samputu formed his first group in 1982, so he's no newcomer to the process of crafting pop songs that benefit from the rich cultural milieu of Central Africa. The experience shows in the scope and polish of his work. On "Singizwa" (Praise Be To God), clanging ankle bells lay out pendulous 5/8 rhythm - common in Rwanda - and Samputu sings with the rough edges and articulations of a village shaman, even as a chorus of backing voices brings in the feeling of African gospel music. That complexity - the tension between roots and modernity, animism and Christianity - graces the best of these songs. "Rehema," a rolling, 12/8 number with gentle, Congolese flavor, tells the story of a Christian boy who vows to convert so he can be with his beloved Muslim girl. The arrangement builds to a satisfying peak - a tangle of three guitars against tugging polyrhythmic percussion and a harmonized vocal refrain.
Other high points include "Twararutashye," a sweet celebration of homecoming, "Rwanda Rwiza (Beautiful Rwanda)," with its bluesy vocal opening and deep male chorus reminiscent of Zulu polyphony, and especially "Ngarambe," which returns to that distinctive 5/8 feel with damped guitar, mysterious choral vocal, and theme about a man who refuses material gifts in hopes of retrieving some undefined happiness. On "Migabo" (Courageous Warrior), Samputu growls richly as he reminds us of the true role of a warrior, to serve and guide - by implication, not to kill without thought or remorse.
Less satisfying to this reviewer are Samputu's forays into more generic folk/pop balladry. The swelling sentimentalism of "Karame Mwana" (Cherish the Children) and the lullaby "Tamara," celebrating the birth of a baby girl, offer laudable messages of rejuvenation. But the music feels borrowed, like so much of Lokua Kanza's work. Samputu's optimistic message resonates most powerfully when he couches it in music that reflects the reality of his homeland. And as other tracks here show, he has the knowledge and breadth to do that.
"Ten Years Remembering," a moody chant piece that appears here in orchestrated and a cappella versions, is one song that makes explicit reference to the genocide. Another is the ballad, "Mana Wari Uri He? (God, Where Were You?)." One can only admire a survivor of such traumatic times who is able to channel hope, and deliver it with such passion, certainty and technical competence. Samputu's remembrances may not ask the hardest questions Rwandans must face, such as why the country's people - not God or the U.N. - were unable to protect one another, and resist the urge to kill. When Samputu chants, "In our hearts, let's decide, always say no to genocide," one feels uneasy. One says no to drugs or illicit sex. But genocide? We all have much to learn from remembering the events of a decade ago. For Rwandans, neither reflection nor rebuilding can be easy, and without a doubt, Samputu's music offers welcome spiritual boon as they face both past and future.
For those outside Rwanda, Samputu offers a different kind of hope. This album clearly demonstrates that he has the capacity to become the first Rwandan musician to establish true international visibility. (Cecile Kayirebwa made some headway in Europe in the '90s, but has never really broken through.) One hopes that Samputu has the artistic vision not to let his sound become watered down by generic influences, be they from Congo, Europe, or America, and that he is ultimately able to emerge from the shadow of genocide and make his mark more broadly as a great African musician. (Afropop.org Editor Banning Eyre) —Courtesy Calabash Music
