Phoenix Afrobeat Orchestra fights for justice using music as 'the weapon of the future'

By the time he discovered the music of Afrobeat legend Fela Kuti in 2008, bassist David Marquez had been playing for nearly two decades and was something of a fixture on the local scene, where he's been in such groups as the Hammertoes, Sweet Bleeders and Colorstore.

But Fela Kuti and his music were a revelation to the seasoned veteran.

"It was like lightning," he says. "I thought, 'Why haven’t I heard this before? How did this escape me?!'"

Afrobeat has elements of many different types of music that had spoken to him through the years, from jazz, funk and soul to traditional African music.

"But it all just came together with the heart of punk," he says.

"The core of Afrobeat is movement and… movement. It makes your body move and pushes you to take a stand against corruption, against the regime. Fela used to say 'Music is the weapon of the future.' And that all really resonated with me."

By 2010, he'd decided to start his own Afrobeat orchestra in Phoenix and started assembling musicians as SB 1070 was making its way through the legislature.

"I got a couple people together, (drummer) James Pope and another guitar player," Marquez recalls. "I just had to talk about Fela, listen to some songs and try to jam it."

It took years to get to where he felt like they could do a show. But by early 2013, he was ready to test the waters and Phoenix Afrobeat Orchestra played their first three shows.

"There was something at the carriage house at Cibo, just to kick it off," he says. "Then we did Bud’s Glass Joint's anniversary show and then a Blunt Club. That was it until December when we had Camille. I just grabbed it and went for it – like, if you book it, they will come."

Enter the Leader of Rituals

Camille is Camille Sledge, their Leader of Rituals, as she's known, whose own musical journey to Afrobeat began in New York City in 2004.

"I had moved to New York and there was a bar where that was all they used to bang," she says. "And I’m like 'This is the best music I’ve ever heard in my life. Even though this bar is (expletive) and small, I’m going in here.’”

That bar soon became her favorite hangout.

"They had all the tunes," she says. "So now I get in good with the bar owner, this guy from Ghana. He starts introducing me to all these albums. Because he was also the DJ. Of his own bar. That he owned. He had one bartender and a turntable."

Like Marquez, Sledge says it felt like Afrobeat had taken all the different types of music she already loved and brought them all together in one life-affirming package.

Maternal support

She'd grown up on classic funk and soul, the way you might expect to grow up when your mom is Debbie Sledge of Sister Sledge, who topped the R&B charts with two classic singles – "We Are Family" and "He's the Greatest Dancer" – in 1979.

"My mom is like my biggest fan," she says. "And I'm her biggest fan. She’s my mentor and teacher. When I was 7, I told her I wanted to be a singer. She did not believe me. She gave me this big book called 'The Business of Music' and told me to read it. It was like two bibles stuck together."

From the time she was a kid, she says, she'd watch her mom perform and think it was the best gig in the world. But it took a while to come to the conclusion that it was the gig for her.

"I went to Ivy League college," she says. "I tried all these different things to not do music but it always pulls you back. So now I’m not gonna resist it."

Asked if her mother supports her decision to go into music, Sledge says, "My mom never really discouraged me and she never really promised me anything. She’s realistic."

She even asked her to manage her at one point. "And she was like, 'I will not do that. You should get someone who actually knows what they’re doing.'”

The singer laughs, then says, "So it was just a lot of realness that I sometimes couldn’t take. My mom is very real. Sometimes a little too real. But I actually respect her a lot more now as an adult. I think 'Wow, you’re the coolest mom anybody could ever have.'"

Launching a career

Sledge's previous attempts at launching a career include a release she describes a lounge album and a hip-hop album with "two dudes who rapped," as she puts it.

"They shunned us off in New York because they thought we were too much like the Fugees," she says. "I'm like, 'How is that a bad thing?' But we were too much like the Fugees. One of the dudes was Haitian. I was like, 'C’mon, you can’t be Haitian.'"

By 2012, Sledge was pregnant with Shalome, her first of two children; and William, her husband, convinced her to move back to Phoenix to be near her mom.

When Phoenix Afrobeat Orchestra hit the scene a year later, it wasn't long before she'd gotten wind of this Afrobeat band.

"I missed the first show," she says. "Then I missed the show at Yucca Tap Room. It was like some outer force was making me miss them. But I had it in my heart that Afrobeat was out here."

The first time she saw them perform is the day she showed up to audition, having been introduced to Marquez by Adam Dumper of the Blunt Club.

"I was there to be a backup singer," she recalls. "I learned these songs. I was like 'Backups, cool, I got this.' Then we were playing around on the mic and five minutes in, David was like 'We would like to ask you to be our lead singer.'"

They both erupt in laughter.

Then, Marquez says, "Probably not even five minutes. But it was, like, a few tequila shots in."

Phoenix Afrobeat Orchestra's first show with Sledge as their Leader of Rituals was that December. Marquez says they now consider that their first official show. But the lineup was still taking shape at that point.

It takes a village

There are 16 musicians involved.

In addition to Sledge, there are three other vocalists – Andria Bunnell, Mitch Freedom and Chanel Bragg.

There are four percussionists (drummer Joel Oroz, percussionist Dave Cosme, Melissa Waddell on shekere and Scott White on conga and other percussion) and four horn players (music director Aldy Montufar on trumpet, Chris Moller on baritone sax, Jeff Jones on tenor sax and Zach Lewis on trombone).

Rounding out the lineup are guitarists Illya Riske and Lukas Mathers with Zach Vogt on keyboards and Marquez on bass.

"You need to have that many people," Marquez says. "About the most slim any Afrobeat band is currently is Antibalas. They have 11 people but there are some dual roles. The singer is also the blocks player. And they have a dedicated shekere player, but they don’t have backup singers."

There's so much going on in an Afrobeat song, with its complex intersecting rhythms and percussion, it can overwhelm the listener, Marquez says. "But it’s always been like an audio bath to me. It's like 'OK, yes.'”

'Laugh to Keep From Crying'

There is a form that Afrobeat, which grew out of such earlier African genres as juju and highlife by incorporating funk and jazz, requires, Marquez says. And they're respectful of that form.

"Certain things, we’ll go outside the style on," he says, "and maybe pull you out of it. But we try to be really careful. I think what we’re doing is breaking ourselves into our own version of it which still carries the torch."

That’s how "Laugh to Keep From Crying," the sophomore album they're releasing Friday night at the Van Buren, feels to Sledge.

"We were all more gelled together as a family when we made this album," she says, "which changed the feel of the music but also just made it better to me. Not that this album is so much better than the first one but I feel like this album is so much more Phoenix Afrobeat. It’s so much more PAO."

Why "Laugh to Keep from Crying?"

It's an ad-libbed line in "Payaso," an impassioned highlight whose title is Spanish for "clown."

"It came about originally because of (Sheriff Joe) Arpaio," Marquez says. "And then the political climate exploded and it was like 'Oh yeah, it’s about that guy, too.' Now, we’re deep into it."

Recording all 16 musicians together at the same time with minimal overdubs, they've managed to capture an amazing amount of the energy they radiate in live performance.

But Sledge remains convinced that live is where they really shine.

"Of course, the new album is rocking," she says. "I mean, when you hear our recording it’s like 'Damn, this is good.' But when you go to a show, it’s a whole ‘nother thing."

That live experience has made them one of Phoenix's top draws.

Charlie Levy of Stateside Presents, who's presenting their record release show at his latest venue, the Van Buren says, "PAO is one of the bigger, if not the biggest band in Phoenix right now — obviously in terms of band members but also popularity. They are asked to perform not only in regular clubs and venues, but also for a lot of community gathering, parties and special events."

As to how they got to be that popular, Levy says, "Their combination of playing music that you can not help yourself from dancing and having a socially conscious message is very powerful. They are a group of smart, talented and dedicated musicians and it shows in their music and live performance."

The U.S. roots of Afrobeat

Phoenix is, of course, a long way off from Africa, but not that far from L.A., where as Marquez points out, Kuti did a long stint at Citadel de Haiti in 1969 and fell in with the Black Panther movement after meeting Sandra Smith (now Sandra Izsadore).

That experience heavily influenced the politics of Kuti's music and gave rise to Afrobeat.

"It took a black woman to put him on that path," Marquez says. "And it happened just 300 miles away from here. She pushed him and he felt right in pursuing a change. So I feel a kinship. Because it was incepted in this region of the United States of America. It lives there. It lives everywhere. But those ideas, I don’t think L.A. can claim it. I think this region of the earth claims it, this continent even."

Even then, Marquez says, he can see where a person might question what business a Mexican-American from Phoenix has starting an Afrobeat orchestra.

"But it wouldn’t work if I didn’t have a pure intention about what Afrobeat music is to begin with," he says, "and the kind of respect we’re gonna do the music with. We put our work in and we put our best foot forward to make a message that we think would resonate with other people, that sits with the ideals that I try to bring to the band, which are anti-corruption, pro-humanist feelings. And I try to hold everybody to that."

They lost a member once, Marquez recalls, "because they felt that they were committing an appropriation. And you know, I can see that, but if we weren’t being respectful…"

Sledge adds, "...or original. I mean, we do write our own stuff."

"So what business do I have starting an Afrobeat band in Arizona?" Marquez asks. "Our political climate has been pretty rife for it for quite a long time. And I had enough on that day in SB 1070 history."

Phoenix, he says, is a blue dot in a red state.

"And there’s not much that anyone can do about it without big money to run for office," he says. "So an Afrobeat band is a voice to talk about things that are hard to talk about and we might not have an answer but I’m willing to stand there and talk about it. I want us to all be in love with the idea of our America dream again but you’ve gotta clean your wound before you can dress it or else you might poison yourself."

In a perfect world, he says, "I'd like to say that someday it wouldn’t be necessary for us to have to do this. I want to keep doing it, but if all the sudden the world is at peace, do we need to have a protest band anymore? I mean, what’s our music gonna sound like at that point. But I don’t know if we’ll get to that point in the near future."

To witness their 16 hearts beating as one, getting lost in the groove on stage, one might assume that every member of the "Phoenix melting pot" of PAO, as Sledge calls them, is on the same page when it comes to important political issues of the day.

But there are many times when they've agreed to disagree.

"I mean, I don’t think any of us voted for Trump," Sledge says. "But we are not all exactly the same when it comes to political views. Which is good and healthy.

They do, however, share one common goal, she says.

"We want a better world."

Phoenix Afrobeat Orchestra Release Show: A Benefit for Save our Schools

With: The Stakes, Vox Urbana, Jerusafunk, Arouna Diarra, the Ital Plate, Tony Culture, DJentrification and more.

When: 7 p.m. Friday, March 16.

Where: The Van Buren, 401 W. Van Buren St., Phoenix.

Admission: $10.

Details: thevanburenphx.com.

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