Issue 58 / August 2015

26
Bido Lito! August 2015 Reviews
Cumbia All-Stars (David Howarth / dayhowarth.com)
things off with Liverpool-based MERKI WATERS.
Waters deftly raps and sings his way through a
mix of up-tempo afro beat and soulful ballads
to a small but appreciative crowd gathered
under a once-again grey sky.
MODOU TOURÉ AND RAMON GOOSE follow
with their West African Blues Project. Touré’s
strong, clear voice floats out, muezzinlike,
and Ramon’s bluesy lead flows over a
highlife rhythm as more and more people
gravitate towards the stage. Touré and Ramon
weave acoustic and lead patterns and synth
treatments squirt over the fading sound
before, for the tenth year in succession, Beatlife
community drummers take to the stage and
roll some thundering beats out across the field.
On stage, old and young alike look as though
they are having the time of their lives and it’s
not only their enthusiasm that’s infectious:
they pull out all the stops with some seriously
complex rhythms which leave the crowd
applauding and cheering. It is this kind of
community involvement that keeps Oyé truly
grounded.
Back to a bluesy vibe with DIABEL
SISSOKHO, whose band launch straight into
a heavy Mannish Boy riff over which he picks
clean, high notes on his kora. Mixing up fast,
driving rhythms and slower dubby basslines,
Sissokho’s set sees the first serious footwork
amongst the crowd. With their subtle changes
of tempo, virtuoso kora playing and strong,
soulful vocals, we have lift-off.
Andy Kershaw precedes to preside over a
great party, dancers whirling to his mix of afro
beat, highlife and dancehall. It is a joy to see
this pioneer of world music broadcasting at
his first Oyé and he looks to be thoroughly
enjoying it, grinning from ear to ear as he spins
one delight after another.
By the time the sun breaks through, a
massive crowd has assembled and thousands
are circling around the perimeter stalls. The
drumming workshop is rocking, jammed with
kids from three to 63. Over in Trenchtown, I
enjoy a superb set of dub and reggae courtesy
of DJ Red Kite. A drunk delights the straw baleseated
people-watchers by taking about two
puzzled minutes to negotiate the ring pull on
his next brew; an octogenarian skanks happily
away with daughter and granddaughter;
juggling balls rise and fall rhythmically from
hand to hand; distant fairground rides are
spinning and shining in the sun; bubbles flow
from a brightly coloured space gun and float off
into the skies, blown by gales of laughter. And
the headgear: five panels, feathers, flowers;
boaters, bowlers, beanies; hijabs, fezs, geles;
rastacaps, flatcaps, madcaps. All unmistakably
Oyé.
The evening session starts with some fine
afro-Latin rhythms from Peru’s CUMBIA ALL-
STARS and continues with the mesmerising
vocal call and answer and whirlwind percussion
of the Réunion Islands’ LINDIGO. Throughout
the set, instruments are added to the mix: a
throbbing bass, stabbing keyboard, flourishes
of accordion, until finally frontman Oliver
Arasta (who at one point is bouncing around
the stage in the press-up position) dons a Bo
Diddley-style guitar and brings the set to a
rousing climax.
The crowd are fully primed for headliner
FRANKIE PAUL and, resplendent in white suit
and loafers, he is assisted to the front of the
stage and once in position doesn’t move an
inch save for a slight sideways movement of
the head akin to Ray Charles. To a heavy dub
bass and skanking lead he delivers his vocals
with a strength that belies his frail appearance
and the crowd are swiftly on board. Covers of
Stevie Wonder’s My Cherie Amour and The
Foundations’ Baby, Now That I’ve Found You
provide a great singalong. From the back of
the stage the view is incredible, a stormy sea
of bobbing heads and raised, swaying arms.
Onstage, the drum and bass lock down the
rhythm with metronomic precision allowing the
lead and keys to elaborate. With this superbly
tight backing Paul has fun with his choice of
material and covers Tom Jones’ Green Green
Grass of Home (highly appropriate!), and the
O’Jays’ She Used To Be My Girl before throwing
in a brilliantly delivered, leftfield, Somewhere
Over The Rainbow, which a delirious crowd lap
up.
The colour and character of Oyé remain
undiminished. Keep it free. Now let’s have a
boss summer.
DEAD KENNEDYS
Slagerij
O2 Academy
Glyn Akroyd
SLAGERIJ are cartoon characters who run the
gamut of pop-punk archetypes: Matt Dennehy
(Bass) is a clown of the Mark Hoppus stripe,
and Martin Montier (Guitar, Vocals) looks like
he could secretly hold a master’s degree in
political science. Their set is a condensed
history lesson, efficiently bouncing between
ska, hardcore, and thrash, and drawing what
will turn out to be a third of the capacity
audience.
It’s been eight years since DEAD KENNEDYS
were last in Liverpool, and I doubt that it’s a
destination holding much truc for stateside
punks. That’s probably advantageous to both
band and crowd – the lack of apprehension and
pro-Beatles fawning make way for an unbridled