James Brown

Say It Loud – I’m Black and I’m Proud

(King Records, 1969)

I was at a particularly impressionable age when James Brown brought out this album in 1969. Just becoming a teenager, I remember sneaking out of the house when he came to play at Lagos’ national stadium. It was the first time I saw someone’s performance have a political impact. ‘Say it loud, I’m Black and I’m proud’, I felt that. Fast-forward to 2003, and Antibalas opened for James Brown in Battery Park in New York. I didn’t get to meet him, but when he came out of his trailer, I walked his footsteps. Every step he took, I made sure my foot did it too.

Bob Marley & The Wailers

Rastaman Vibration

(Island Records, 1976)

I didn’t do very well in high school, and my mum sent me to a village to study. It ended up being a blessing, as this is where I learned so much about my culture. The school was Catholic and run by a cool reverend. He hung with us and always drank a lot of wine, he’d bless us and always keep a few glasses on the side for himself. He created a group of boys who would play basketball and also be the altar boys. This album kind of became our theme song. ‘Rat Race’ speaks to rushing around for everything. When our mindset is programmed to one of scarcity, we rush like hungry rats. Our basketball training was based on fast breaks and rushing our opponents. It also inspired a song I co-wrote for Antibalas called ‘The Ratcatcher’.

Fela & Afrika 70

Authority Stealing

(Kalakuta Records, 1980)

As a Nigerian performer who understands the culture, I respected Fela so much that I didn’t want to perform his songs. But it got to the point where other people started doing it, and I thought, I better get in and make sure it’s done right. And in that process I started learning things. This album is the epitome of composition for me, where content, musicality and movement of melody combine… It’s so powerful. I played it with Antibalas at a small club in Ireland. When I started singing, I quickly stopped as there were a lot of Nigerians there, and they knew all the words. I just let them sing.

Fela & Afrika 70

Zombie

(Coconut Records, 1976)

While still at school, I used to sneak back into Lagos to see Fela, even my mum wouldn’t know I’d come home. The taxi that took us came from this village where they would transport a lot of green groceries, you get me? I was experiencing Afrobeat in its rawest form. Everyone else was just seeing a guy on the stage, but because of my martial arts education, I was seeing ‘sifu’, a master of all elements. Fela was most powerful when he played ‘Zombie’, a protest song of the highest form. The effect of that song can be felt to this day. You go to any part of Nigeria where there’s craziness in the street, and you’re wearing a t-shirt with Fela’s face on it, it’s magical. Everyone, including the policeman trying to arrest you, will stop for a second and give you a fist [bump]. He’s a martyr.

THE CENTRE

Sun Ra

A Joyful Noise

(Rhapsody Films, 1991)

When I was living in Williamsburg [NYC] it was in a building where I had my dojo in the basement, an Antibalas practice space and a place to print my t-shirts. We also did fashion shows and gigs in the shopfront. After one show, Jordan McLean, trumpeter for Antibalas, told me to watch the Sun Ra documentary. In it, I saw his Sun Ra house in Philadelphia, and I realised that’s kind of what I had. It inspired me to turn it into a non-profit community centre. This unfortunately never materialised, but this documentary helped me remember to take the spirit of this space in Brooklyn wherever I go. Once you live in Brooklyn, it never leaves you. Sun Ra’s use of the Yamaha organ tone also inspired my use of a Farfisa organ, which I play in a lot of my tunes, especially the tonal delivery of the licks. When amplified through a vintage amp, it sounds like some idling spacecraft.