Review
Publication date : Monday, April 18th 2011 - 6 931 views The Congos & Abyssinians, Voices Of Jamaica
As part of their European tour, the Abyssinians and the Congos dropped anchor in Villeurbanne. Summery atmosphere, a packed hall, powerful sound: an account of a "strictly roots" night.
They came from Lyon, from Saint-Étienne, from the Terres Froides, from Chambéry, from the Bresse. Tuesday or not, work or not, the bill was unmissable: The Congos and The Abyssinians gathered under one banner, "Voices of Jamaica". The cherry on the cake: the night is organised for a good cause. The Back to Roots association will use the proceeds for a school project in Ghana.
 9.30pm, and the CCO in Villeurbanne welcomes the Congos with thunderous applause. The hall is packed to bursting. The dull roar of the crowd is answered by the high-pitched voice of Cedric Myton, the falsetto. Gently, he opens the ball with Open up the Gate. The enchanting vocal harmonies blend wonderfully with riddims finely "dubbed". Behind the vocalists, the Jamaican backing band is well drilled. Its precision does justice to the composition and arrangement work done in its day by Lee Perry. The audience sings along with the tracks from one of the most marvellous albums in reggae: "The Heart of the Congos" (1977), a jewel of the Black Ark studio. On La Bam Bam and then Fisherman the crowd goes wild, gasping for air. Lit up by his white beard, Myton is in his element. He also grabs hold of his microphone stand, hugs it, leans on it, makes it dance, beaming. He has the legs of a twenty-year-old again. Behind him, the backing singers are unruly: they bounce around, roam the stage and finally abandon their microphones. Some shake the dozens of hands reaching out towards them, others seize the nyabinghi drums for a percussive farewell.
 A minute of acclaim and the Abyssinians are already on stage; neither the audience's hands nor the nyabinghi drums have had time to cool. Like the three wise men, crowned with imposing hats, the trio launch into Ethiopia, singing of origins, the Bible, Moses. The humidity in the hall is such that the walls are dripping. The trick is to dodge the drops, with the fear that the sea might close over the crowd. In a bluish light, a guitar riff steps forward. Meditation. The three voices answer one another and match the strings: syncopation, devastating slang/slang. Hey You, Foward on to Zion, Y Man Gas and the inevitable Declaration Of Rights follow. Those with any strength left raise a fist, others hold up their lighters. One more? At random it will be Satta Massagana, the Rasta anthem par excellence. Recorded in 1969, set aside for two years by Coxone Dodd, who did not believe in the track's potential, it was finally released in 1971 and enjoyed an immediate and lasting success. Since then attitudes have changed, and dreads no longer frighten anyone. "Jah", calls the trio; "Rastafari", answer the front rows, in a finale charged with emotion.
On the way out, we are surprised to bump into a lady of a certain age, smartly dressed, lightly made up. Enthusiastic, she explains that she only likes roots and admits to having been overwhelmed by a Burning Spear concert... some thirty years ago. A connoisseur, she points out the fine performance of the Mighty Lions, who played the opening slot. No covers, no chit-chat, original riddims and a sound that the sexagenarian does not hesitate to call "Strictly Roots". The Lyon band, spearhead of the young label KA Records, has clearly struck a chord. With a mischievous look, madam pulls three of the band's albums, freshly bought, out of her Chanel bag: one for herself, two for her grandchildren. Roots keeps, and it gets passed down.
Report written by C.A
Photos : Lucos
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