At this point, in our globally connected and information-rich world, it should surprise no one that nearly every urban center around the globe has a vibrant music scene that represents a distinctive convergence of styles and interests. It’s easier than ever to drop in on the hip-hop scene in Tokyo or the metal scene in Johannesburg if you know the right forms, websites, and social media personalities.
In decades past, though, such music scenes were nearly nigh impenetrable from the outside, not only due to the obstacles presented by geography and language, but by internal logistics and limited infrastructure as well. By which I mean, throughout much of the 20th century, just because a city had a vibrant club scene, didn’t mean that there was any proper way of recording or preserving its sounds.
Yaoundé, Cameroon, was a perfect example of this dilemma. The city was alive with funk and psyche music at night, but unless you had the time and the resources to rent out the one professional recording studio in the city, owned and operated by national broadcasting company (but not apparently as a public service), there was almost no way of recording your original music.
Eventually, though, a sly and innovative workaround emerged through the entrepreneurism of one Monsieur Awono, who would record bands in the basement studio of a church he worked for while the priests were away. It was a tidy operation where Yaoundé bands would coordinate with Awono to haul their gear into his studio and record into a lone microphone, for sometimes no more than an hour at a time. The resulting masters would then be handed over to whomever happened to have the cash on hand to pay Awono at the end of the session.
This is the clandestine manner by which most of the tunes on Analog Africa’s Cameroon Garage Funk came to exist. The compilation is comprised of numerous obscure funk, soul, and psychedelic tracks fulled from 45s that had been salvaged from the dust bins of second-hand stores around Africa and Europe. Many of these 45s had originally been pressed and circulated by French label Sonafric, and while distribution in Europe helped jumpstart some careers, many of the artists on the comp are known for only the songs found here and are otherwise entirely obscure.
In listening to the songs collected for Cameroon Garage Funk, one of the obvious influences that will likely surface in your mind is James Brown. This is most true of Louis Wasson’s weaving boogie “Song Of Love” and the hot swivel and shout of Johnny Black’s “Mayi Bo Ya?,” but the King’s influence is suffused throughout. James Brown’s impact on West Africa is, of course, incalculable, but as far as Analog Africa’s Samy Ben Redjeb is concerned, there is a very specific reason that funk became such an overwhelming force in Africa during the ’70s. As he explained to All About Jazz in 2020 (and paraphrased here), funk was easy to play because it had fewer moving parts than afrobeat, and you didn’t need a brass section to do it- in other words, if you had a guitarist, a bassist, and a drummer, and you could find a groove, you could play funk.
Sounds familiar, right? Does that sound like some garage bands, you know? Cameroon Garage Funk may not be the type of garage music you are used to, but it carries the same kind of drive and spirit as the rock bands you’re familiar with in your local scene. Give this comp a spin and know that it is, in fact, possible for a historical document to rock your world as hard as anything you’re likely to hear emanating from your neighbor’s parkway.
Buy and stream Cameroon Garage Funk via Bandcamp below:
Buy Cameroon Garage Funk from Analog Africa on CD and vinyl here.
