One of Africa’s most prolific recording artists, Oliver “Tuku” Mtukudzi of Zimbabwe, will grace the Music Mill with his unique musical synthesis on Sunday, June 19 at 9 p.m. Also appearing are Jabali Africa and touring DJs Chaka-D and Maximum.

Mtukudzi is nicknamed “Tuku.” That name has become a tag for his personally crafted genre now known as Tuku music in Zimbabwe and around the world. Mtukudzi has released nearly 50 albums of his music, the most recent being Nhava, just out on Heads Up International.

Along with his nine-piece band, The Black Spirits, Mtukudzi draws together fragments of rhythm and melody inspired by various forms of folk and popular music found in Zimbabwe and Southern Africa. The sonic result is a propulsive, interlocking groove — with most of the polyrhythmic elements strongly tied to melody lines. The primary example of Mtukudzi’s process of musical fusion is his transfer of traditional mbira (“thumb piano”) melodies to lilting, looping electric guitar lines.

“Tuku” was born into a musical family, grew up immersed in choir competitions and his musical development never stopped. One of his first steps into popular music was with Thomas Mapfumo, now know worldwide as the creator of Zimbabwe’s chimurenga music. Mtukudzi took elements of that experience to create his own musical synthesis.

“My music is a fusion of different rhythms and melodies of Zimbabwe — we have mbira music, we have kateke drumming, we have chimurenga music, we have jit popular music, we have the influence of mbaqanga from South Africa, the list goes on. In my music, I fuse elements of all these types of music into one. I like when listeners can find elements of their favorite rhythms and styles.”

Mtukudzi sings in Shona, a core indigenous language in Zimbabwe. The Shona people also excel in traditional mbira music. While uncommon to American ears, the Shona language was an essential part of the critical role of Tuku music in the fight for independence in Zimbabwe.

While visiting WFHB radio in Bloomington during a recent Lotus World Music Festival, Oliver “Tuku” Mtukudzi spoke of music’s impact during times of struggle. Music serves a number of purposes in Zimbabwe, says “Tuku.” “In my country, music is not just for entertainment. We use music to send messages, to teach, to remind people of what they seem to be forgetting and to neutralize tensions in problems among the community.”

His popularity in the late-’70s, during the Zimbabwe independence movement put him in a position to hijack government media, Trojan horse-style. His coded Shona-language song lyrics sent important messages to freedom fighters in the bush. “When I started, it was before our independence, during an era of oppression. At times, writing music was not for pleasure. We were writing music to deliver a message from people in the urban areas to people in the bush and vice-versa.

“The language we used then was very clever. In the Shona language you’ve got proverbs, idioms and other ways to say things so the regime might not even know what a song means. You translate it literally and it does not make any sense, but it could carry a very, very viable message. The aim was to try to use the regime’s media to transmit that message. You had to be very, very clever in your words then.”

After the independence movement’s success in Zimbabwe, Mtukudzi’s music still plays a mentoring and mediating role — now in a very different setting, especially during recent turbulent times in his country. “In Zimbabwe it was the first time to be independent. No one had the experience of running a country so there was a lot to talk about after independence. We continue to have problems and there is still a lot to talk about. This time it is quite different, because the government and system that is there now understands Shona as much as I do, so you can’t run away from it. The only thing is to say the truth in a song.”

With it’s truth-to-power message and engaging groove, Tuku music has spread throughout Africa and worldwide. Mtukudzi made leaps in his popularity through his role in the 1996 film Jit and through his collaborations with Bonnie Raitt. Mtukudzi’s infectious and world-changing music speaks for itself, though, even if you don’t understand Shona. It is irresistible dance music and not to be missed on a rare stop in Indiana.

In praise of Tuku

By Dale Lawrence

Oliver Mtukudzi, known casually to his fans as “Tuku,” has been a superstar in Zimbabwe since the mid-1970s. His rough, impassioned vocals (sung mostly in his native Shona) reflect the influence of his idol, Otis Redding. But his songs more readily suggest Van Morrison — long, circular, hypnotic reveries, fleshed out by his longtime band, The Black Spirits. “Tuku” is his own rhythm guitarist, often playing arpeggios, balanced by long Curtis Mayfield-like lead lines from veteran bandmate Philani Dube. At its best, the music of Oliver Mtukudzi is the sound of pure trance.

Tuku’s greatest song, “Mai Varamba,” is built around one of the saddest guitar figures I’ve ever heard, rising and falling endlessly over a short repeating chord pattern. (Mtukudzi’s best songs often employ a simple I-IV-I-V progression, though with such invention that it took me a long time to even notice.) The lead vocal works arrest variations on a couple of melodic ideas, while a discreet organ swirls in the background and the backup singers blankly repeat the title phrase. It’s an altogether mesmerizing performance, six minutes of gathering storm, folding back on itself over and over, as resigned as it is erotic.

“Ndine Mubvunzo” begins with one of Mtukudzi’s more conventional (and lovely) melodies. It’s a waltz-time soul ballad, in which Dube’s lead functions almost as a Cajun accordion. Halfway through, “Tuku” begins throwing in staggering vocal asides — wordless moans and suppressed half-sobs — creating a palpable tension and lending the tune overtones of tragedy. “Tapera” eschews the typical “Tuku” guitar interplay, building instead around a stately piano. The vocal enters slowly, tentatively, eventually latching onto a handful of phrases, repeating them over and over against the piano and drums to dizzying effect.

While not all of Mtukudzi’s material approaches these heights, each of his albums (including his latest, Nhava) contains moments of brilliance. Likewise, live, The Black Spirits will sometimes steer clear of the extremes present on their best records, delivering instead a sort of Official World Music Performance, thoroughly satisfying, elegant grooves washing over a transfixed audience. Or, on a given night (as at the small-club date I saw in New Orleans in 2002), they’re liable to come across as the best rock band in the world.

They opened that evening with “Mai Varamba” and never looked back. The sound was darker, tougher than the records, with guitars front-and-center in the mix. Mtukudzi’s, an acoustic/electric hybrid, functioned in this setting as a full-on electric guitar; and Dube’s lead playing consistently cast a spell. I knew almost none of the songs, but one after another were brilliant, suggesting at various times New Order, Talking Heads, the Feelies, the Rolling Stones. Mostly though, it sounded like a thoroughly new version of rock ’n’ roll, tough and dancey, fast and passionate. The set that followed, by the Blind Boys of Alabama, though riveting in its own right, seemed like an oldies show in comparison.

Oliver Mtukudzi and The Black Spirits’ appearance this Sunday at the Music Mill presents a rare chance to see one of the giants of modern Afro-pop in an intimate setting. Indianapolis music fans will miss this show at their own peril.
Editors@nuvo.net