Femi Kuti & The Positive Force – Live Review – Leeds Brudenell

By David Schuster, January 2025
Femi Kuti bounds onto the stage waving and already speaking ten to the dozen. Brudenell Social Club is packed, floor, stairs and chairs, in fact anywhere offering a view of the stage, is occupied. The crowd are in a party mood, and need little encouragement to follow Kuti’s lead, as he pogos to the infectious Afro-Beats of ‘Truth Don Die’. As dance moves go, it’s a good choice; there’s no room to do anything else, and the audience leap enthusiastically along.
More unusually, the stage is likewise packed. The Positive Force, who are accompanying the frontman on this Politics Don Expose Them tour, are an ensemble numbering no less than twelve members, all crammed on Brudenell’s bijou main stage. Not counting the maestro, from right to left there’s keyboards, a full four-man horn section comprising cornet, trombone, alto and baritone sax, drums, guitar, bass and percussion, in the form of congas. The musicians are arranged in a tight arc, to back and rear of the stage, centred on Kuti’s Hammond organ.
Astonishingly, this stage arrangement provides enough space for a trio of female dancers, resplendent in the traditional Moninkim dance costume of the Ejagham people of Nigeria. These ladies are an act in themselves, constantly filling the stage with motion; dancing, forming a conga line and, occasionally, playfully spanking the lead singer rhythmically on the bottom. He doesn’t seem to object. On a couple of songs they also contribute percussion with tambourine, wood block and Shekere, a bead covered gourd shaker. However, it’s their energetic gyrations that really astonish, causing my wife to comment, “It’s amazing what they can do with their hips!”.
“Complex”
The entire set is delivered with pace. Other tracks I pick out include ‘97’, the Grammy nominated ‘Pa Pa Pa’ and ‘Oyimbo’. The complex rhythms and instrumentation are irresistible, and it’s impossible not to get drawn into the hypnotic movement. Outside, it’s a typical British January night, just above freezing with the rain blown into your face by a keen westerly wind. However, inside Brudenell the room is soon hot and, mopping his face with a towel, Femi stops to comment on how much they are enjoying the cold weather. He also observes the irony of the human condition that makes us crave the cold when we are hot, and warmth when we are cold. Personally, I’m enjoying the heat and, along with the warm yellow flood lighting, the band in matching blue floral Hawaiian shirts, and the frontman resplendent in orange, it’s easy to imagine that we’re in Lagos rather than Leeds.
Femi originates from Nigeria and takes the majority of his inspiration from the political failings of a country whose recent history has been dogged by civil wars, military coups and a series of corrupt governments. Music however has always provided a platform for dissent, the lyrics to ‘Pa Pa Pa’ would easily fit punk, ska, or folk protest:
“If government no fit do their work
Make dem give us electricity
Make dem repair all the roads
Made dem give us good health care
Make dem give us clean water to drink, name the few.”
“Powerful”
In our political complacency, where our own experience of government corruption tends to mean lining your own pockets and those of your cronies, it’s easy to forget the fear that others live with every day. It’s brought home when the singer mentions the beatings endured by his father (legendary musician Fela Kuti), or the time when he thought that border guards were going to kill his son. He’s clearly passionate for change. Since 1999 there has been a fragile democracy in Nigeria, and it is to be hoped that voices such as his will continue to drive improvements in the lives of the Nigerian peoples.
The catchy tunes belie the important messages of songs such as ‘Stop the Hate’, ‘Look Around’ and the latest single, the powerful ‘Politics Don Expose Them’. And that’s the power of music; a palatable message, highlighting an unpalatable truth can do more to raise awareness than many hours of political rhetoric. If you like gigs to dance along to, then join the party. The tunes change, but the song remains the same.
images: Gail Schuster