Photos: Aleš Podbrežnik
Venue: Gala Hala, Metelkova, Ljubljana
Concert date: 14.03.2010
Attendance: 0
That Monday guilt trip again, for daring to party in the middle of the week. The feeling that nags you to go home and sleep so you can function tomorrow morning, even if only on autopilot. Screw it, let’s go, action. This is bound to be a top-notch artistic performance by four genuine musicians led by bassist Jamaaladeen Tacuma, and they’ll even work poetry into their soul groovy funky blues and jazz backdrop, the kind that somehow unites you with a purifying cosmic force, so you forget your tiredness, your biorhythm, which tonight is definitely not at its peak, and any police checkpoints on the way home that might pin on you, or even fine you for, some thoroughly well-earned glass of beer you happened to knock back while swaying and nodding approvingly at masters of their craft.
Let’s take it in order. Brotherzone’s first visit to Ljubljana goes back a whole twelve years. So understandably the crowd this time wasn’t just students; a few more silver-haired heads had found their way in too. The guys have a long road of making and playing music behind them and, as a result, their own loyal fan base. Touring also gives them the chance to connect with their listeners and, of course, offer and sell their stuff with no middlemen. And Brotherzone really did come across as very approachable all night. A little after 9 some of us ran into them in front of the entrance, where all three of them (vocalist Wadud Ahmad joined them only later) greeted us with a friendly “Hello!”, and after the gig there were some chances to hang out with the band members too.
If anyone sniffed themselves in puzzlement after Monday’s gig, wondering where the intense smell of cigarette smoke in their hair and clothes had gone, I can clear that up too. At the band’s explicit request, we were told on arrival that, as an exception, smoking was not allowed in the club this time, so that had to be taken care of outside. Totally understandable; cigarette smoke doesn’t just harm the lungs and mucous membranes, it’s not great for vocal cords and other instruments either. The “Brothers” from the United States, after more than a decade of touring, surely know that damn well.
A few minutes before ten, guitar, a pronounced bass line and drums chime in all at once. A wild jazz machine warming up. Fasten your seatbelts, we’re taking off. A guitar solo follows, the dizzyingly fast fingers of wizard Jean-Paul Bourelly in a gold jacket travel along the neck of his shiny, squealing darling, wild merciless scratching, then “Bass in ya face” and of course the obligatory showcase of the rhythm foundation on drums (Daryl Burdee). A little more, a little more, and my Monday guilt over sinfully crazy fun will evaporate. A little more, and I’ll be flying back in time to those Mondays when we listened, carefree, to the show Izza odra, which Brane Rončel was hosting back then. Excellent!
Just as I started looking around and some of us were wondering when the colorful poetry Brotherzone promise in their announcements would get its turn, Mr. Wadud Ahmad appeared on stage and let us know the best was yet to come. In the track Hardcore he took aim at rappers of the Snoop Dog type (gangsta rap) and the hypocrisy of certain hip hop artists who manipulate the audience and rake in fat piles of money off ignorance and the perpetuation of various stereotypes, like the one that if you’re Black, there’s a good chance you’ll end up in prison sooner or later.
We all kind of went still and fell into thought as Wadud told his stories, stringing together chillingly real pictures of everyday life, pictures of the present. His mellifluous baritone interweaves superbly with the parallel instrumental story of noble jazz, which lifts you up and beckons and promises new discoveries and insights. The gentleman is of course used to rhetoric. He’s a lawyer and words flow easily for him, which of course would mean nothing without real content, real words and metaphor. Truly, this brotherhood is no joke.
Next came another instrumental odyssey, where the three madmen on guitars and drums let off steam again. But how gorgeous that madness of theirs is, simply contagious and childishly mischievous. It pulls you in and sucks you up. It convinces you it’s right. Of course, madness is youth. This tireless funk-soul train doesn’t stop. It just goes and doesn’t look around. Timelessly it travels to the station Chaos, where the tall poet appears on stage again, this time with a notebook of verses in hand. He wags a finger and warns us against ignorance and throwing sand in our eyes. He takes a sip of water, bellows, suddenly there are two on the mics, Jamaaladeen wants to say something too, “It’s only a joke.” “Thank you.”, while Wadud, turned to the audience, stages a real Texas auction, selling and haggling with our attention, which swings between him and the madman on bass guitar. Unrepeatable, priceless. And I was so tired before the gig. Why was that again?
Do what you love. Life is over fast, so live with soul and with love. Right now we’re in Slovenia and this evening is one of a kind. Roughly with those words our time with the American brothers wrapped up around midnight, and all we could say was: “See you again soon!”
Photos: Tanja Goršič
Setlist
1. Let’s have a good time 2. Low zone 3. Hard Core 4. Riot 5. Renaissance Man 6. Bass in Ya Face 7. Chaos 8. Dreamscape 9. Resolution 10. Universal love
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