Royalty has always played an important role in my life, and I’m especially taken with Kings. There’s B.B. King, Billie Jean King, King Vitamin ... and who could forget Biltmore Avenue’s li’l-slice-o’-Appalachia, the Hot Dog King? So it goes without saying that there’s space in my heart for King Sunny Ade, the Nigerian master of juju music. At its heart, juju is dance music, an infectious blend of Yoruba drumming, interlocking guitar, and, in its more recent incarnations, liberal borrowings from the Western pop tradition. A star in Nigeria by the early 1970s, King Sunny Ade was imported to the States in 1982 as part of Island Records’ ambitious attempt to establish juju as the next reggae — with Ade playing the role of the “African Bob Marley.” The attempt fizzled: Island released some great albums but didn’t garner a lot of sales. Still, Ade remained in the American consciousness as an Afropop innovator of the first order, and the sounds of juju became the sounds of Africa to American ears. In his native Nigeria, his star has only grown: he’s now known as the national “Minister of Enjoyment.”

The press release for this show notes that it’s the first time Ade’s toured the States “African-style,” meaning concertgoers can “spray” the King during his performance. Not with water, mind you, or canola oil or insecticide, but with cash. Folding bills. Quiet money. It’s an African tradition, a form of patronage that allows audience members to give money to a performer in exchange for recognition in the form of praise-singing. In Africa, spraying serves a dual purpose, giving musicians a way to make a living and audiences a form of public recognition. I’ll quote from the press release: “The recipient of the praise responds... by ‘spraying’ the singer with cash — which can take the form of pasting dollar bills on the singer’s sweaty forehead, showering the singer with money, or other ways of demonstrating gratitude for the praise. In fact, the method of spraying has itself taken on an art form, with some sprayers having a reputation for their particular style of spraying. And the longer you stick money on the singer, the longer the audience is focused on giving you attention — a sort of African form of advertising, marketing, and networking. But once your money runs out, you must make room for the next patron.”

I have seen spraying exactly once: at a Baaba Maal show in Dakar, Senegal, I watched as a procession of proud patrons showered Maal with cash. I mean he was taking it in by the sackful. It was an incredible scene, and one unlikely to be repeated at the Orange Peel. Still, ya gotta admire the moxie of Ade in bringing it to America. Who knows? It if takes off, by this time next year we could all be stuffing sawbucks into Willie Nelson’s headband. But I doubt it... So give it while you can, friends, give it while you can.