Femi Kuti
airdate August 4, 2009
Femi Kuti has used the afrobeat and power politics-themed mantle inherited from his Nigerian sax-star father to earn recognition in his own right. Born in London and raised in Nigeria, Kuti quit school to play alto sax in his father's band and then formed his own group, Positive Force, before embarking on a solo career. The internationally acclaimed musician has fused jazz-funk rhythms with a bit of hip-hop to collaborate with such rappers as Mos Def and Common. His voice is also featured in the videogame Grand Theft Auto IV.

Acclaimed Nigerian musician explains his decision to live in his natvie country, despite the difficulties and even though he could live anywhere in the world. (1:29)

Full interview. (14:03)
Femi Kuti
Tavis: Femi Kuti is an acclaimed musician who has followed in the footsteps of his father, the legendary Afrobeat pioneer, Fela Kuti. Femi is currently on a major North American tour which included a terrific show, I'm told, here in L.A. at the Hollywood Bowl on Father's Day.
His latest CD is called "Day by Day," the first studio album in seven years. Femi, nice to have you on the program.
Femi Kuti: Thank you.
Tavis: You doing all right?
Kuti: Yes, yes, thank you.
Tavis: How are things in Lagos?
Kuti: Oh, we still have no electricity, no water in many areas. The government is still spending the oil money like it's their personal property and all that.
Tavis: Yeah, and you're still speaking out against that.
Kuti: Yes.
Tavis: How difficult is it to - I want to ask a two-part question here. How difficult is it to live under those conditions, especially for you, because you travel around the world, you're regarded and loved around the world, you could live anywhere else in the world.
You choose to live in Lagos under these conditions - at least your countrymen live under these conditions - and you support them and do what you can for them. But how difficult a challenge is that for you? You could be living here in L.A., for example.
Kuti: These days it's quite a big challenge these days because of the opportunities I have to stay somewhere like in L.A. and all that. My work, I think, would be probably easier. I'll be able to work with great musicians around the world. From Lagos in Nigeria it's very difficult.
The conditions with no electricity, the poverty level - everybody keeps asking for money, you have to help so many people. That's very difficult. And when you see the riches and you see the poverty level, it's painful. That's really difficult.
But then it's like my destiny. My father went through it. It will be very sad if I turn my back on my people right now, and I think - I console myself with the fact that when I die and I get to heaven and I see people like (unintelligible), my father, (unintelligible), I want them to smile and say, "Well, you didn't turn your back on the struggle."
Tavis: That's very important to you, huh?
Kuti: Yes, very.
Tavis: What do you make of the fact that much of what you are fighting for, much of what you're fighting against, to your point about your very famous father a moment ago, your father was fighting the same fight. What do you make of that? Years later, you're still fighting the same.
Kuti: I was with some friends yesterday in the hotel and I told them, "When my father was fighting we were 13. I'm 46 now; we are closing on 50. And it's sad that after all this time we are still talking about the same basic facts my father was fighting for that he was beaten so many times for, went to prison so many times for.
We have children in their teens and it's the same story, worse than before, and there is, like, nothing we can do about it and that's very, very sad. That's depressing.
Tavis: So where do you find - I know you want to hear them say well done and you did a great job when you (unintelligible) with them as you said a moment ago, but that's in the hereafter. In the here and now, what keeps you fighting every day? What keeps you getting up every day?
Kuti: Probably anger (unintelligible). Because like when you realize that we were 13 and I'm 46 now and it's the same problem and the people - we have a kind of democratic era right now with the same corrupt system. And to know that this corruption is getting worse - I mean, you travel, you go to America, you go to Europe, you see they still have their problems, but they have the basic amenities for their people.
They have electricity. They have water - running water in the bathrooms and all that. And you can't understand why Africa, the richest continent, can't provide these things for their people. You see all the highways; you can travel from Florida to Boston to Houston to L.A. The highways are magnificent, the buildings. Why can't we have all this in Africa?
If I was a leader, I would want - I would be envious of America or Europe. And if I had the means to provide these things for my people, I would do this. So these are the things that are keeping me going, that make me angry (unintelligible) and determined to fight, asking these question like why can't you provide this for your people?
Tavis: You said if you were a leader, you are a leader. You just lead in a different sort of way. You have your own sort of ministry. You're not an elected leader, you're not an elected official.
Kuti: No, I don't even go there.
Tavis: Yeah, but I'm glad you said that. I'm going to go there, though. (Laughter) It raises the question as to why that doesn't interest you.
Kuti: Because I want to play music. I love traveling, I love my fans all over the world, I love being in L.A., San Francisco, New York, Washington, Milwaukee. I love - in Paris. I love all these places. If I were the president then I wouldn't be able to do. And it's a very, very serious job. It's very - if you look at a country like Nigeria, for instance, you are talking about making 150 million people happy.
That would take your whole life. It will take your family from you. If you are going to be sincere about cleaning up the country, you could even - it could wear you down and even your health, it could take your health from you because it's so complicated right now.
I don't think I could - I don't think I would be up to doing that if I were honest with myself.
Tavis: So how, then, to use your word again, Femi, how do you take that anger and turn it into energy? How do you take that anger and use it as fuel for your music?
Kuti: That's a very complicated question. I think all I'm doing I can only put it to a gift from the creator. That gives me the will, the talent in everything I'm doing, because sometimes I'm puzzled. Sometimes I say, "Wow, how did I arrive at here I am today? How does the music come? How do I come with the ideas?" I can only believe it's a kind of gospel thing happening.
Tavis: What do you make of the fact that you have been gifted in the same way that your father was gifted?
Kuti: I'm not surprised about that because when you read history you know that the son always takes after his father in many respects. The child always wants to be like his father from when he's a kid. I've always wanted to be a musician. I've always admired my father, I've always respected him. I never thought anybody's music sounded like his. I thought it was unique.
From when I was a kid I listened to everybody but his music was always special to me and I think all children are like that with their parents. My son is like that with me. If he turns out to be a musician, I won't be one bit surprised about that either.
Tavis: You have a son playing with you.
Kuti: Yes.
Tavis: He's how old now?
Kuti: He's 13 now.
Tavis: So you played with your dad when you were that same age.
Kuti: I was 16. He started much - and because of the - he has a better opportunity than I did. I, like, had to struggle. Like I had to teach myself the instruments. My father was like, "Find your way. You have to find your way."
I'd probably do that again, thinking about it, making - he wanted me to find - see the difficulties of life, because it's experience, after all the beatings he got, every part of his body was beaten and broken. So I think maybe his experience with the law enforcement in Nigeria made him have a very hard line with his kids, saying, "No, you have to see life in this way."
I have had a kind of peaceful life, so I am more of a conventional father to my son. I make sure he has a very good education; I make sure he can read and write music, I give him all the talent I can, teaching him musical instruments that I know. Those that I don't know, I get teachers to teach him. So he's well - he has all the weapons he will need if he wants to become a musician.
Now, if he wants to become a footballer or into sports or whatever, I'll still be very happy for him as long as he's happy. So I'm not as hard in that respect as my father.
Tavis: You play how many instruments now?
Kuti: I play - one, two three - about four.
Tavis: About for instruments.
Kuti: Yes.
Tavis: Did you ever take your father saying to you, "Femi, find your own way" as him being difficult with you?
Kuti: Yes, I was very angry. Even when I - I was very angry one day about the time I decided to play the saxophone, and I (unintelligible) improvise in his band. One day he calls me, "Why do you repeat the same thing every night? The same improvisation, you repeat it. Change it," and he shouted. (Unintelligible) "What? How dare you talk to me like this? You don't teach me (unintelligible) you're telling me."
But it was that that got me thinking that I now knew I had to change my improvisation, think of other ways, practice more, and be more dexterous on my instruments. So but then I could - now, out of my (unintelligible) age, I can understand that he must have been a very frustrated person. If you could - just if you understand the pains he was having, going through his broken bones that never really healed, he had to perform, he still had to compose the numbers he did, and he had to (unintelligible) several wives. So his life was very complicated (unintelligible). (Laughter)
Tavis: You don't have that many wives.
Kuti: No.
Tavis: Yeah.
Kuti: I am not married right now.
Tavis: How did you find your own way? How did you create your own sound, distinctly different from that of your father, and develop your own fan following? How did you do that?
Kuti: Just determination, anger. I was very determined. When I left I was determined to succeed. I started to put, like, a minimum of 12 hours a day practicing, practicing, practicing, and when I practiced like the saxophone for so many years, I got bored, I moved to the trumpet, moved to the keyboards, and all these I taught myself how to do.
Just get the "How to Play the Trumpet," for instance - where are the keys. I had to find my way on that. So it's taken me ages now to be very comfortable on the trumpet, for instance, and ages playing, trying to teach myself the piano and all that. So I'm like that, I'm very - if I see no hope, I'm very determined to, like, find a way. I always find a way. It's very stressful, I get very irritated and angry with myself for not being able to succeed, and I just put more effort all the time.
I could go two days without sleep just practicing, saying, "I must get it, I must get it." So I think that was because of the kind of life I had in my father's home.
Tavis: What does music do for you?
Kuti: Everything. Music does everything. I think - I keep saying if I couldn't play music probably I would - okay, for my children I would still stay alive, if I could. But without - if I couldn't play my horn again, I wouldn't want to live anymore, if I couldn't perform.
If I couldn't practice, even. Maybe if I couldn't perform I might not be that sad, but if I couldn't wake up every morning and pick up my trumpet and practice my scales I would be a very sad person. And every time I'm - like I have malaria or whatever and I can't play, I'm so depressed.
And everyone says, "Rest, you have to rest," but I have to play. I'm so into that motion of I have to play, it's like eating breakfast now, or lunch. I always have to play now.
Tavis: For someone who's never heard what you do, never heard what your father does, how would you describe to them what Afrobeat music is?
Kuti: It's music from an African man's perspective, I would say. Now, an African man who grew up - his father, my great-grandfather, was a composer in gospel music. He did all the hymn songs for (unintelligible) my native language, and his father was a composer as well.
He composed the national anthem for the states (unintelligible). And my father was a pianist for this - for his school. So he had all this as a teenager, and then he went to Trinity College. He had all the traditional music around him because in (unintelligible) where he grew up, it was all about drums and folk songs.
So my father had all this, and then he goes to Trinity College to study classical music. He gets involved with Miles Davis, Coltrane, Dizzy Gillespie, and he goes crazy for this music.
And then he comes back from Nigeria and there's high life. He gets involved with high life. He comes back, then he goes to America, and then he meets the Black Panthers. He reads about Malcolm X (unintelligible) and he goes completely berserk and says, "Whoa."
And then he takes all the knowledge he has, the music he has, goes back to Nigeria, and that's Afrobeat.
Tavis: (Laughter) And that's why everybody can't do it. That's a whole lot mixed up in there. But thankfully, Femi Kuti can and he does it awfully well. His latest CD is called "Day by Day." What a legacy you have been bequeathed, and I'm honored to have you on the program.
Kuti: Thank you very much, Tavis.
Tavis: Femi, it's nice to have you here.
Kuti: Thank you.
