[3]
By
Published: 2008
Category: World [4]
Everywhere we went in Italy, we heard Me gustas tu [5] --- it was that summer's theme song. And deservedly so. The music ruled: an irresistible melody and a killer rhythm. And the lyrics? Goofy. Mano Chao simply listed all the things he loved: travel, the wind, the sea, running, marijuana, Colombia --- and you. It was jaunty, optimistic music, smart in the conception and cheerfully dumb in the car or on the beach.
Try it. Bet you like it.
Back in America, we seemed to have the only copies of Próxima Estación: Esperanza [6] (named after a Madrid metro station --- "Next Station: Hope"). A little research explained why. Manu Chao may be the worthy successor to Bob Marley, but reggae is just the start of his music. He sings in English, Spanish, Galician, Portuguese, French and Arabic --- sometimes in the same song. He conceives his CDs as seamless, connecting songs with sirens and street noise. And he's an unashamed loudmouth --- for him, “politics is violence.”
But don't be put off; he's not heavy-handed. Chao is so smart, in fact, that he casts himself as a goofball who makes fun music for everyone --- he's the class clown who never grew up. So he creates danceable tunes that just happen to get the proletariat shaking a fist at globalization and imperialism. Consider the song that put him on the map: Bongo Bong [7]. It's the story of a guy who starts "bangin' on my bongo" in the jungle and soon finds himself in "the big town" where he's the "King of Bongo". The lyrics are resolutely goofy:
They say that I'm a clown, making too much dirty sound
They say there is no place for a monkey in this town
There's also, for the graduate students in the audience, a probable double meaning for “bong”, but who cares? Your feet are moving; if you're not careful, you're going to jump up and throw yourself around. Manu Chao is the Gypsy Kings, the Clash and Bob Marley in one spicy, beat-heavy stew....
Chao was bred for politics and joy. His father, a Spanish journalist, was sentenced to death by Franco; the family sensibly relocated to Paris. Chao grew up with an international sensibility, and it was only natural that his first band would travel to South America, playing for “the people” from ships and trains.
As a solo performer, Chao is a major draw. So it's outrageous to me that the CD I like best --- Próxima Estación: Esperanza [6] --- is available in the United States only as an import. Pricy, but worth every penny. His most recent CD, La Radiolina [8], is just as energetic. Some have bitched that a number of the songs on this CD are variations of the classic Chao riff. True. But not sad --- it's a riff that turns your spinal cord into a rubber band. Where to start? Probably with Clandestino [9], rich in hits and, of course, "Bongo Bong".
From the first time I heard it, I've been a zealot for Amadou & Mariam's Dimanche a Bamako [10] --- a mock Sunday in the center of Mali's capital city, with sirens, kids, trucks and the remarkable songs of this blind guitarist and his blind wife. It's the happiest music I know, and Manu Chao is largely responsible for conceiving it and producing it.
It's a fabulous irony - and a hoary cliche --- that music from the streets happens to sound great at country clubs, on the beach, and over the sound systems of expensive cars. The lifeguard who's listening to Bob Marley might, some day, be grooving to Manu Chao. If you're smart, you'll get there first.
To buy “La Radiolina” from Amazon.com, click here [8].
To buy “Proxima Estacion: Esperanza” from Amazon.com, click here. [6]
To buy "Clandestino" from Amazon.com, click here. [9]
To visit Manu Chao's page on MySpace.com, click here [11].