Mega Music steamed up and burnt down on Tuesday night, under the weighty beats of one of Africa’s finest musical sons. The great thing about Femi Kuti is the way he unabashedly struts his sex appeal. The second best thing is the clothing he wears – those two-piece African print slack suits of ambiguous gender, complete with matching slippers. At the Koras it was bright turquoise, and last night it was a demure little item in black and white.
Mega was, as usual, unmanageably full – too many people to look over and a traffic jam at the bar. But when Kuti started to play, the mesmerised crowd seemed to sort itself out, most given over to the funk. Kuti is, of course, his father’s natural successor. Once he had removed his shirt (what a great body!) and begun blowing into his sax, the similarity between father and son was uncanny.
The line-up, a full 15 musicians long, was stupendous. There was something Afro-beat and retro about the occasion – brimming with nostalgia for a scene, in the Seventies, that we didn’t even know. Femi somehow brings this to life. At times he left the stage for his really great band to get on with their stuff. And when he came back, it was as though a new set of lights had been turned on – truly, the boy’s got a spark.
Completely hyperactive, he’s the one performer this reviewer has seen who can outlast his audience. If it weren’t for the fact that the house was tiring out, one got the feeling that Femi would just have gone on and on and on.