Music can heal, says Congolese performer

[KaNisa]

Music can heal, says Congolese performer

By Brian Kluepfel
CORRESPONDENT, THE CONTRA COSTA TIMES

Published September 12, 2003

Samba Ngo has an infectious laugh and smile that can't help but draw one in. The subject matter may be world politics, hunger, or music, but soon you are laughing along with him. It's no surprise, then, that this Congolese-born musician believes in the healing power of words and music. It's a tradition he was raised in and continues on his 18th album, "Ndoto (Dream)."

Ngo brings a band of local musicians to interpret his newest batch of songs to Ashkenaz on Saturday. It's there that you might catch a drift of the healing power of his music.

"My father was a musician and a doctor (nganga, in Ngo's kikongo language). He used to make medicine with plants and used music all the time when doing (healing) ceremonies or making medicine," said Ngo. "That was the way I grew up --music is medicine."

Growing up in war-torn Congo was rife with difficulty, and Ngo pauses and adds, "if not for music, a long time ago I (would have) killed myself. The Congo is deeply sad -- a very rich country, but people (are) living so poor. There's been misery and war for many generations."

Ngo learned the consequences of airing his views through music. The powerful messages of a recent album, "Metamorphosis," were not well-received back in his Central African homeland by the powers that be. Thus, though his mother recently passed away, Ngo did not travel home for her funeral.

The messages on Ndoto are still politically potent, but deal more with the healing power of love. Most of the lyrics are in French; some are in Lingala (the common language of the now Democratic Republic of the Congo) and others in English. "Rendezvous" kicks off with some bottle percussion, courtesy of Samba (he plays conga in addition to singing and playing guitar). The hypnotic groove ends with the line, "Planet Earth, a rendezvous of all lovers, have lovers forgotten?"

"Checher" has a call-and-response vocal line that questions what people are looking for in life: health, love, money, freedom, God. "We are all dreaming something, but not the same thing," the lyric laments. More complex are the African metaphors like "Mpese." In Mpese, "the insect camouflages himself in ash, but the chicken always discovers him." "Bima" is more to the point: "Because of the politician, the village is dead, the African intellectuals have failed." The singer/songwriter admitted, "sometimes, to talk is dangerous."

Those who know African music admire Ngo's abilities. Banning Eyre, the editor of afropop.com and a guitarist who's traveled through much of Africa, says simply: "Samba Ngo is very cool." Eyre has pointed out in his scholarly work that often African guitarists try to imitate the sound of an existing instrument, and that's true for Ngo.

Samba grew up listening to the wood and palm-fiber-stringed nsambi, and says "I didn't listen to Jimi (Hendrix) or Wes Montgomery, I listened to traditional people (for my sound)." It's still the sound of the nsambi, and also the likembe (thumb piano) that resonate in Samba's guitar work. Lately, he's added acoustic guitar to the mix to get another musical color," he said.

So, after spending most of his life outside his native land, including two decades in music-rich Paris (most notably as musical director for Paco Rabanne and a player/founder of M'bamina), it's still the boyhood roots that Samba turns to for inspiration.

"That is why I'm a musician -- healing!" he said. "In the Congo, people believe we are the sound, and the sound is medicine." But it's a two-way connection. "When I play, I can feel the energy the public gives to me, and what the stage gives to the public."

It's the sebene -- the hallmark of Congolese music that combines layers of guitar, call-and-response vocals, and waves of percussion -- at will wash over the Ashkenaz audience Saturday night. As the singer himself would say, "let's dance now -- who knows tomorrow?"