In the Club
On Sunday night, I got my first introduction to the Kinshasa club scene. Don’t think that this was junior varsity because it was Sunday night. Here is Kinshasa, the weekend is still going strong late into Sunday, I was assured, when I got picked up after 10 pm. I was going out with three others--two Congolese employees of the US Embassy and a Kenyan woman who has worked for MONUC (the UN delegation) in Kin for five years. All save me are pretty experienced with the scene.
The club is on what appeared to be a narrow street in the central business district. Even if the street actually was not narrow, it appeared that way on Sunday because of all of the cars parked there and all of the people hanging out. Outside the club was itself a scene with people selling things--the most popular product being packs of tissues. Paper products are in very short supply here, so a personal pack of tissues has a certain cache. They are useful to wipe the sweat off after a night of outdoor dancing in Kinshasa, and you can share them like you would a cigarette (btw very few people here smoke). We could hear the music pretty well from outside the club, and there were some really enthusiastic dancers in the street taking it in. We paid our five-dollar cover charge, and passed through a half-dozen security guards, through a metal gate, into the club. It is open air in a Miami Beach sort of way. (That’s my reference point.) There was a palm tree in one corner, a bar in the back, an indoor restaurant, and the outdoor concert area. There is a tin roof covering the stage area, but everything else is open. It was a beautiful night with no rain (no small feat for Kin in October).
When we arrived, the band, Wenge Musica, was already playing their soulful brand of soukous. Soukous, a Congolese popular music that is well-liked throughout Africa and Europe if less popular in the US, is a Pan-African fusion that developed in Brazzaville and Kinshasa, which were trading cities that brought together people from all over the continent and the world. Indeed one of the characteristic elements of soukous is a Carribean influence, which came mainly via Martiniquais who were in Brazzaville in the 1930s and 1940s when it was the French colonial capital. Wenge is led by two guitarists and a rotating ensemble of male vocalists. There was a drummer, keyboard player and bassist as well, but no horns. They are a pretty longstanding Kinshasa group from the early 1980s (in various incarnations) and this was their final show in town before heading out on tour. They were leaving two days later for several months in Europe.
Once inside the gate, we ordered drinks from a waiter/bouncer. When you buy the drinks, he brings you white plastic chairs as part of the exchange. (Another bouncer had his own bottle of Dewar’s which he was pouring on the side.) We sat down pretty close to the stage on what seemed to be a dance floor though nobody was dancing. A larger seating area elevated one step behind the “dance floor” was filled with, I would guess, about 300 people at this point. And although the crowd seemed to be enjoying it, they seemed very demure, not even much head-nodding. The scene was very mixed in age--folks in their early 20s next to people in their 40s and 50s. Still I was surprised that folks weren’t dancing because even though I am typically the last one to get on the floor, I could barely sit still. The band sounded great.
The place filled up over the next couple hours but there was still no dancing, so I figured this was the scene. Then J.P. (Mpiana Mukulumpa) showed up. J.P. is a founder and the leader of Wenge. When he arrived, seats were arranged for him and his entourage of five female dancers on the left side of the stage. They sat, like the rest of the audience, and listened to the band for a few songs. Then J.P. took the mic and the scene changed. People must have been knowingly saving their energy for the main attraction. As soon as he started singing, couples took to the dance floor filling it up during his first song. It was male-female couples slow-jam dancing, even when the jam wasn’t particularly slow. All very proper and formal. On stage, J.P. was singing accompanied by his dancers, whose uniform was baggy cargo pants, fitted white Von Dutch t-shirts, and black bandanas partly covering long braids. J.P., dressed in mostly white with some black stripes and big sunglasses is apparently something of a sex symbol (at least in the eyes of one of the women I was there with). This energy continued to build during the evening. There was more dancing, some men on the edges of the dance floor busting some moves. And the male singers had some great choreography of their own. Everyone on stage had to be working (except J.P. and the dancers), so if there were six vocalists on stage and only one was singing a particular verse, the rest of the group was doing some moves that would make the great male Motown groups proud.
Great concert. When we left at about 1:30 am, people were starting to leave, but the band was still playing. The club was far from empty, and it didn’t seem like it was going to be anytime soon..
The club is on what appeared to be a narrow street in the central business district. Even if the street actually was not narrow, it appeared that way on Sunday because of all of the cars parked there and all of the people hanging out. Outside the club was itself a scene with people selling things--the most popular product being packs of tissues. Paper products are in very short supply here, so a personal pack of tissues has a certain cache. They are useful to wipe the sweat off after a night of outdoor dancing in Kinshasa, and you can share them like you would a cigarette (btw very few people here smoke). We could hear the music pretty well from outside the club, and there were some really enthusiastic dancers in the street taking it in. We paid our five-dollar cover charge, and passed through a half-dozen security guards, through a metal gate, into the club. It is open air in a Miami Beach sort of way. (That’s my reference point.) There was a palm tree in one corner, a bar in the back, an indoor restaurant, and the outdoor concert area. There is a tin roof covering the stage area, but everything else is open. It was a beautiful night with no rain (no small feat for Kin in October).
When we arrived, the band, Wenge Musica, was already playing their soulful brand of soukous. Soukous, a Congolese popular music that is well-liked throughout Africa and Europe if less popular in the US, is a Pan-African fusion that developed in Brazzaville and Kinshasa, which were trading cities that brought together people from all over the continent and the world. Indeed one of the characteristic elements of soukous is a Carribean influence, which came mainly via Martiniquais who were in Brazzaville in the 1930s and 1940s when it was the French colonial capital. Wenge is led by two guitarists and a rotating ensemble of male vocalists. There was a drummer, keyboard player and bassist as well, but no horns. They are a pretty longstanding Kinshasa group from the early 1980s (in various incarnations) and this was their final show in town before heading out on tour. They were leaving two days later for several months in Europe.
Once inside the gate, we ordered drinks from a waiter/bouncer. When you buy the drinks, he brings you white plastic chairs as part of the exchange. (Another bouncer had his own bottle of Dewar’s which he was pouring on the side.) We sat down pretty close to the stage on what seemed to be a dance floor though nobody was dancing. A larger seating area elevated one step behind the “dance floor” was filled with, I would guess, about 300 people at this point. And although the crowd seemed to be enjoying it, they seemed very demure, not even much head-nodding. The scene was very mixed in age--folks in their early 20s next to people in their 40s and 50s. Still I was surprised that folks weren’t dancing because even though I am typically the last one to get on the floor, I could barely sit still. The band sounded great.
The place filled up over the next couple hours but there was still no dancing, so I figured this was the scene. Then J.P. (Mpiana Mukulumpa) showed up. J.P. is a founder and the leader of Wenge. When he arrived, seats were arranged for him and his entourage of five female dancers on the left side of the stage. They sat, like the rest of the audience, and listened to the band for a few songs. Then J.P. took the mic and the scene changed. People must have been knowingly saving their energy for the main attraction. As soon as he started singing, couples took to the dance floor filling it up during his first song. It was male-female couples slow-jam dancing, even when the jam wasn’t particularly slow. All very proper and formal. On stage, J.P. was singing accompanied by his dancers, whose uniform was baggy cargo pants, fitted white Von Dutch t-shirts, and black bandanas partly covering long braids. J.P., dressed in mostly white with some black stripes and big sunglasses is apparently something of a sex symbol (at least in the eyes of one of the women I was there with). This energy continued to build during the evening. There was more dancing, some men on the edges of the dance floor busting some moves. And the male singers had some great choreography of their own. Everyone on stage had to be working (except J.P. and the dancers), so if there were six vocalists on stage and only one was singing a particular verse, the rest of the group was doing some moves that would make the great male Motown groups proud.
Great concert. When we left at about 1:30 am, people were starting to leave, but the band was still playing. The club was far from empty, and it didn’t seem like it was going to be anytime soon..
posted by irad at 11:22 AM
0 Comments:
Enregistrer un commentaire
<< Home