“Coumba” by Orchestra Baobab
“Coumba” is a farewell song.
Coumba, Coumba qui a changé les couleurs
Coumba, Coumba, la mer n’est plus bleu pour toi
By the time “Coumba” was released on Pirate’s Choice—that exemplar of the 80’s “discovery” of “world music”—Orchestra Baobab’s inventive fusion of Afro-Cuban rhythm with jazz and local Wolof and Mandinka traditions had already been eclipsed by a newer wave of pop sounds in Senegal. The group formed in 1970 as an all-star house band for an eponymous club in Dakar. They were giants of West African pop and eventually crossed over into international renown—after they had already disbanded.
I’m not sure when my dad started listening to them—if it was during that first round of discovery in the late 80s or during a later reissue—but it’s a group I always associate with him. He was fascinated with Afro-Cuban cross-pollinations: African music forming the foundation of Cuban music and then Cuban music returning the favor for modern African pop.
I’m also reminded of one of those truly once-in-a-lifetime concerts seeing Chucho Valdés, with an endless parade of guest singers, play late into the night at the now-defunct La Zona Rosa in Austin, my entire family dancing at my side. Chucho had just released Briyumba Palo Congo, an Afro-Cuban jazz album exploring African religious roots alongside the Americana of Gershwin and Ellington. More fusions, more cross-pollinations.
“Coumba” is a sensuous rumba, rich with reverb, equally joyous and plaintive—a goodbye that swings with celebration. It seems like a good song to end with. In a similar tone I’d like to say again how happy I’ve been sharing these five songs that remind me of my dad’s musical influence on my life!
CONTINUING ON…with the theme of Fathers, my father is up on Sunday