I would be lying if I said I wasn’t a Manu Chao fan.

But I would also be downright negligent if I didn’t disclose that the definition of ‘fan’ was based on the repetitive, near endless, playing of just one song – ‘Bongo Bong’.

Let’s just say that space cakes have a lot to answer for.

So, while I was eager and excited about heading to his gig, I was also walking in as somewhat of a Chao virgin. It’s an odd feeling heading to see a relative big-name act when you don’t instantaneously know what’s to come, but after this experience, it’s something I’d advocate all the more.

Chao, for those in the dark, is a Franco-Spanish superstar who likes to spark political and environmental activism as much as he does wide-spread moshing.

In fact, after this gig alone, I’d personally say that he managed to instil more philosophical and societal thoughtfulness in me than the countless Uber-gigs, sanctimonious preaching and ‘Megastar’ collaborations than Sir Geldof and co ever have before (and I don’t even speak Manu Chao’s language!).

 

But back to the gig.

 

From the warm-up opening bars of Solomon Burke’s Blues Brother classic ‘Everybody Needs Somebody To Love’, it was clear that the mood was a festively upbeat, cuddly and positive one. It’s a good tactic. By the time Chao bounded on stage with the six members of his Radio Bemba band, he could’ve played a synthenised loop of a wet-fart for 90 minutes and I doubt anyone would’ve really cared.

I needn’t have had any doubts though, because Chao is arguably the most energetic, relentless performer I’ve ever seen. Like a miniature, coked-up Lee Evans, if he wasn’t star-jumping to the ska rhythm then he was thumping the microphone against his chest to rival the drumbeat.

This is where I was truly surprised. ‘Bongo Bong’ had been a chilled, near acoustic summer-laze song. It quickly appeared that Chao’s full repetoire was a full-on ska/punk/reggae/electric-80’s mash up that would’ve collectively beaten, abused and probably even sodomised an acoustic guitar had it had the audacity to wander even accidentally near the stage.

 

And it was great.

 

As trumpets ricocheted off the walls and the electric guitars fought with the break-beats for dominance, Chao rose above them all to rap and sing his way through a medley of diversifying tracks that changed in style as quickly as they did tempo. Whenever it threatened to sound like one continual flamenco/ska skit, the band would abruptly shift gears and what was a beer throwing, head moshing ska track one second before, instantly morphed into a reggae-style, intimate tete-a-tete.

As I said earlier, what was truly impressive was that with only an A-Level’s knowledge of Spanish (and an old one at that) and a French lexicon that extended to ‘Um gomme, por favour’ and ‘La Petite Morte’, the delivery and energy with which he delivered the lyrics and his message, more than crossed class, political and language divides.

 

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Posted In Live Reviews, Dec 26 2008. Words - Matt