Africa Vive III - by Theo Berry

I tried pleading tiredness first, then tried selflessness, then appeals to logic, then dangling carrots, but nothing worked. Try as I might I couldn't persuade Kate to leave me in charge of Rosie and go to Africa Vive. So I had to go. Life is hard sometimes....

Now in its third year the Africa Vive concert is the culmination of two months worth of events aiming (or so it seems to me) to present a more positive view of Africa. You know, to show that the continent isn't just about corruption, famine and war, but is also able to create great art, literature and music, and thus joy and life.

My old University flatmate Harry is currently visiting (Friday to Monday) and so after dinner we headed up to the University on the metro, arriving late - the event started at 7pm, we got there about 9pm. Being in Spain for over 2 years has obviously taken its toll on my time-keeping! We immediately met up with Aboubacar - a Senegalese friend Kate and I made at Spanish class - and then were joined by Ayesha and Onno.

Ayesha, who lives in London, and Onno, who lives in Amsterdam, had been in Madrid since Wednesday, and we had already seen them for lunch on Thursday and dinner on Friday, but amazingly they weren't yet bored of our company so still decided to come along! The event was, after all, free and we're all music fans (we first met Ayesha at the legendary Rocket Festival).

We made a happy and enthusiastic group dancing away to firstly Takeifa, from Senegal, playing some lively Afro-pop with some very hooky beats. Following them came Babeloued Sound, an awesome Ska band that was pretty much like every other Ska band, except better and louder and with rap in Arabic and French (they were really more French than African - a couple of the 9 piece came from Morocco). Finally, Femi Kuti (son of Fela) blazed on, surrounded by colour and noise, acting like a coke-head in hurricane, all non-stop motion and hubristic hand waving. We left about half-way through his set, keen to make the last metro and avoid the rush. Femi was good, but not that good. However, although his messianic posturings were got tiring quickly, he was a great ambassador for the exuberance and joy that Africans are capable of and, as such, was probably the ideal ambassador for another excellent edition of Africa Vive.

Africa Vive - by Theo

My first night out without Kate and Rosie. As I waited for the metro the sense of guilt at abandoning my girls to go have fun threatened to over-power, so I turned to text to try to distract me, messaging my friend Aboubacar to tell him that I was go to Africa Vive and we should meet up. All of ten seconds later he and his brother Ibrahima were greeting me on the Metro.

Kate had insisted I went; the Africa Vive concert last year had been amazing, but definitely not for babies, especially after our experience with Rosie at WOMAD and the Planeta de Madrid. And I really, really wanted to see Konono No.1. Especially as it was all free.

As the three of us alighted at Cuidad Universitaria we became caught up in a whooping, excitable crowd of African expats - Senegalese, Malian, Congolese, Ivorians, and more - full of glee at the prospect of seeing some of the continents mega-stars for free. We were all early, not wanting to miss the beginning, and it seemed like we weren't the only ones with that idea. The queue for entry snaked for a good 500m as the security confiscated booze and food at the gate. However queuing with the Senegalese contingent was a lot of fun, as they weren't going to let being the wrong side of the fence stop them from getting involved in their compatriots, Da Brains, performance.

We finally got in and, after collecting some beer and water and glancing round the few stalls set up at the back, grabbed a shady spot on the grass near the stage. The event was very much a mini-festival with market, bars and an African tapas restaurant, albeit with just the one stage, but the change-overs were extremely quick given the number of performers in some of the bands. The first few acts - Don Bigg and Njaaya - passed by pleasantly enough as I hung out with Ibrahimah, Aboubacar and their Spanish teacher Carmen.Then Cesar and David showed up, sporting their back-stage wristbands and band-rider beer. Naturally, Cesar knew the organiser (of course he did!), and of course they hadn't queued! We hung out a bit more on the grass, before Cesar managed to snag the organiser, Mario, and blag a wrist band for me off him. Very kind. It turned out that AnneTerese, the american girl who had stayed with us in January, was now working for him. It's a small world. Especially when you know Cesar!Back-stage was pretty groovy - a free bar and tapas, plus an elevated viewing platform to the side of the stage. Definitely the best festival back-stage set-up I've ever come across, and I've been back-stage at a fair few in my time. It was from here that I got to witness the awesomeness of Konono No.1's hypnotic mbira and percussion playing, and the equally awesome crowd response, with some exuberant Africans leading a 50 strong group of equally exuberant Spaniards in a mass formation dance in the middle of the now swelling crowd. I was surprised there weren't more members of Konono No.1, though the six that were there did make a awesome racket, and while I still think they'd make for better sunrise music, watching them at sunset was pretty cool too! Their set seemed way too short, but it was excellent nonetheless. Sadly I forgot my camera, but David obliged with his blackberry!
Afterwards, we chilled out back-stage, chatting with a load of Cesar's old friends and taking advantage of the free beer. Sidy Sambi, the next act, was pretty good, but, though I love his music, I decided to leave during Salif Keita - the journey home would take about an hour and I had been up since 6am. But, more importantly, I was missing my girls!

Mucha Musica!

Another weekend rolls by and another bunch of excellent live shows. This is one aspect of living in Spain (and Madrid in particular) that is especially attractive. If World Music isn't your thing, then perhaps you wouldn't feel as blessed as we do, but we love global grooves and WOMAD Caceres, Planeta Madrid and now Africa Vive have showered us in riches.

We picked up flyers for Africa Vive while in Caceres, but it wasn't until I spotted the words "entrada gratuito" in tiny writing at the bottom that we decided we had to go. Stingy? Perhaps. I prefer "thrifty".The show was held at the main university on huge stages, built side-by-side so one act began even as the applause was dying down for the previous artist, with no gaps for set-ups and sound checks in the middle.
When we arrived, with Pueblo Ingles Anglo chum Lynne and another fresh Anglo, Barbara in tow, the first thing we saw was the scrum around a stall giving out free T-shirts. The second thing we saw was our former classmate from Spanish lessons, Aboubacar, a Senegalese who's currently studying at the university. Big hugs all round, introductions to his cousin and some Spanish friends, beers bought and we all went to watch the first act.Bassekou Kouyate, a virtuoso n'goni player (African guitar) from Mali was in full flow, head to toe in flowing, tie-dyed robes and grooving with his band like The Shadows on speed. Superb stuff, and Theo's and my favourite of the night.He was followed by Smod, another Malian group who specialise in catchy acoustic pop and endearing three-part harmonies. Daara J, a riotous hip hop act from Senegal were up next and Aboubacar was almost beside himself as the familiar beats and raps from home poured forth. They had loads of energy and were tonnes of fun.
Next up, the home-grown Spanish act, Ojos de Brujo, whose breathless flamenco fusion was a massive hit with the crowd (as you'd expect!), with North African influences in some of the tunes probably giving them qualification for the event, as well as their crowd-pulling ability. The best moment was when Daara J joined them on stage for a fantastic flamenco/African hip-hop mash-up.

By that time, the music had been playing without a break for more than two hours and, enjoyable though it was, we were all starting to get a little footsore. We sacrificed the last act in favour of the trudge back to the Metro and some chill time.

By the way, honesty compells me to point out that after the unpardonably patronising tone of my "sizzler" blog post, the hot weather broke with a terrific storm on Friday night and Saturday was cool and rainy. At times, it almost felt like Glastonbury at Africa Vive, as passing showers of rain continued to top up the many puddles. Mind you, only one of them was heavy enough to warrant a mass opening of umbrellas. And at least we didn't have to squelch our way back to a muddy tent.