tony allen's afro-funk orchestra

orchestra is used in the loosest sense of the term with this outfit. there's a bass, guitar, trumpeter, keyboardist, and tony allen on drums. but yes, oh yes, there is funk.

i got my ass up and got down and lost five pounds in sweat. i haven't danced an entire show away in too many years.

allen is touted as the drummer for fela kuti's africa 70. zombie is one of the best albums ever (and i'm not just saying that - listen to the title track loud and try to disagree), but what tony allen does as a solo artist is much different. allen creates a trance inducing funk with minimal vocals and solid drum work and funk basslines.

i couldn't help craving more horn throughout the evening, and the trumpeter could have given us a few more solos. still, we all had fun and it was a good excuse to throw a few moves on the dancefloor.

aboubacar camara & doundounba

the day before the show we had been walking along spanish banks and came across a group of percussionists playing on a park bench. we sat on the bench next to them for a few minutes and enjoyed the groove. little did we know they were jamming for their big performance the next night.

aboubacar camara & doundounba had the crowd moving while they played what must have been an hour and a half long opening set. they know how to throw out the rhythms with flair, but the real stars of the show were the dancers hassanatou camara and allison griffith (particularly hassanatou and her hair flinging moves).

ian tracey's head

what also sticks in my mind about the show is the back of ian tracey's head. we accidentally sat next to a reserved table, and partway through the show tracey and his entourage sat down. i was three inches away trying to watch the show past his head - wanted to say hi and whatnot, but gave the man his privacy instead. while he seemed like a pretty big fellow in milgaard, he's surprisingly petite. what an impressive face, though.

one of my other da vinci's inquest encounters involved an awkward stare down with the great nicholas campbell. last year i was standing in a parking lot one morning gazing blankly at a run-down building and campbell walked by, stopped, and stared at me absently for a moment. our eyes met and we shared a weird dazed moment. it was kind of like watching tv (he was in character). again, i would have said hi but it was strange. campbell also has one hell of a mug.

show at the commodore ballroom, vancouver, july 2, 2004

{July 09, 2004 09:25 PM}