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This article originally appeared on JamBase.com.

Summer Camp 2008 set the bar for all other summer festivals, and set it pretty high. This year festival organizers pulled out all the stops. They pieced together an impressive slew of genre-spanning bands that filled the weekend with enough musical highlights to fulfill an average music fans entire summer. It was also a prime example of how the fest has evolved from its humble beginnings into a monster event. All three days were jam-packed with a variety of quality music, and here are just some of the many highlights.

Late Night Thursday

The late night action featured sets from three of the scene’s up-and-comers: U-Melt, Family Groove Company and Future Rock. Notable moments came via a nasty funk/disco jam from U-Melt towards the end of their set; a solid front-to-back set from the Chicago-based FGC that showcased the rapping style of bassist-vocalist Janis Wallin; and a wild late night dance-off from Future Rock.

Friday

The early morning downpour couldn’t dampen the spirits of the thirsty music fans. sub-ID, the Nashville by way of Chicago trio, laid down their blend of funky electronic dance grooves to the receptive masses on the Sunshine Stage. Their use of sampled sequences with live bass and drums provided a burst of energy, and also allowed the kids a chance to shake their bones after an unseasonably chilly night. Drifting toward the Starshine Stage (the new stage for 2008) shortly after sub-ID’s set, theChicago Afrobeat Project were in the midst of a bouncy rhythmic centered groove. It was hard to stand still during their short set especially since it was so brisk and blustery.

After milling around the grounds, past the Trojan Tent and Guitar Hero setup, I rotated between sets from The Lee Boys, Future Rock and The Avett Brothers, and then ventured towards the main stage for Sound Tribe Sector 9’s afternoon set. It was sporadically funky and even brought out the first taste of sun, but couldn’t compete with what was going on at the Sunshine Stage, where Girl Talk was warming up.

Fully immersed in the late afternoon sun, I rushed past the throngs of curious onlookers and found myself backstage debating on whether or not I should join the all ready rabid dance party surrounding Girl Talk (a.k.a. Greg Gillis). Prior to the crazy mash-up of Metallica’s “One” and Two Live Crew’s “Ass and Tities” (which featured a cameo appearance by Wayne Coyne of The Flaming Lips), I joined the party. The momentum and energy onstage was infectious and exhilarating. It was clearly a personal highlight of my weekend (maybe my life), and was topped off by the set’s closer, a rare take on Nirvana’s “Scentless Apprentice” that featured Gillis singing the entire song.

Following Girl Talk the night excelled at a ferocious pace, and thanks to The Flaming Lips I was able to check off another of my short term goals: be a part of their wild stage show. With the confetti cannons booming, a giant LED screen covering the back of the stage, and more onstage dancers than Girl Talk, the Lips rocked! Spirited versions of “Radical,” “W.A.N.D.,” a massive sing-along of “Yoshimi Battles the Pink Robots Pt. 1” and the classic “She Don’t Use Jelly” all stood out. If there was one downside it was the momentum slowing between song rants from Coyne, which carried weight but seemed too preachy. At the conclusion of the Lips, I ventured down to the Main Stage just in time to catch the encore of Umphrey’s McGee’s set, a brilliant and nearly perfect version of Pink Floyd’s “Shine on You Crazy Diamond.”

The late night entertainment on Friday was provided by Ha Ha the Moose, which featured three masked men – unofficially moe.’s Chuck Garvey (guitar) and Rob Derhak (bass) with an unknown drummer. Surrounded by inflatable penises and a tripped-out backdrop, hidden behind horned masks, the trio opened with AC/DC’s “Big Balls.” They blasted through several heavy Primus-like jams in their set before welcoming out some of Central Illinois’ finest strippers, who provided a wild peep show for the late night campers! After Ha Ha the Moose finished, Tea Leaf Green rocked ’til the wee hours. New bassist Reed Mathis was dead-on, and his interaction with guitarist Josh Clark was quite impressive.

Saturday

Starting my day at the Camping Stage, I caught the tail end of St. Louis-based funk/soul centered Madahoochi. The soft, luscious vocals of keyboardist Shawn Hartung were rather pleasant for a late morning/early afternoon boogie. After the Hoochi set, I made my way to the first of two Chicago bands, starting with Family Groove Company on the Sunshine Stage. Their set was solid and highlighted by the set closer, an interesting up-tempo run through Otis Redding’s “Sitting on the Dock of the Bay.” After FGC, I headed towards the Main Stage for Cornmeal who rocked during the rare afternoon sun. Their last jam was a nasty, extended disco-grass throw down that segued perfectly into the Lotus set already in full swing on the Sunshine Stage.

Approaching the stage just as the group began the super funky “Tip of the Tongue,” I couldn’t help but boogie my way up towards the already massive dance party. As a unit Lotus is top-notch. Their funky groove-centered jams had the afternoon crowd moving and helped keep the blood going as the temps began to dip down again!

The second of Umphrey’s McGee’s festival set was okay and even featured a couple of guests (Mike Racky and George Jones on “Great American”), but it was the reunited Blind Melon that tweaked my interest. The decision to replace the legendary Shannon Hoon with avid Blind Melon fan Travis Warren was a tricky and risky transition, but Warren stepped up to the plate. His take on Blind Melon classics, especially “No Rain,” was impressive and eerily similar to Hoon. Their set was good, but to a hardcore Blind Melon fan it could have come off as a glorified cover band. The rest of my evening featured pieces of G. Love, The Roots and moe. before settling in for a nasty late night funkstravaganza from Ivan Neville’s Dumpstaphunk.

Sunday

Finally sunshine and warmth joined the party!

My morning opened with the bouncy funk of Iowa-city based Euforquestra. These gents kept the crowd, many of whom looked rather ragged, moving in the early afternoon heat. Their infectious polyrhythmic grooves helped this scribe, and a handful of others, sweat out a good bit of the previous day’s party and provided a lively jolt of necessary energy.

The rest of the afternoon was hot, both musically and literally. The Bloomington, IL-based Backyard Tire Fire rocked the mid-day music fans with their raw, raucous hillbilly stomp, highlighted by a fierce take on Warren Zevon’s “Lawyers, Guns and Money.” Over on the Main Stage, Hot Buttered Rum zipped through their set and even dropped a version Phish’s “Possum” before welcoming out moe.’s Al Schneir for a song. But, it was the lively back-to-back funk sets from Dumpstaphunk and George Clinton’s Parliament-Funkadelic that set the day off! The intense energy from Dumpstaphunk ignited the rowdiest dance-off of the weekend, and carried seamlessly over into the Parliament set. Ivan Neville, Tony Hall and crew exploded through their set with a fury. The “Africa/New Orleans” jam was off the charts, and the interplay between the dual bass work of Hall and Nick Daniels was virtuosic and explosive, and entwined harmoniously with both Ian and Ivan Neville’s melodies.

After a brief stop over for Banyan, it was back to the Sunshine Stage for Parliament. This was the most crowded set of the weekend, and was perfect for the beaming, sun-soaked late afternoon. Classics like “Bop Gun (Endangered Species),” “We Want the Funk” and “Cosmic Slop” worked the crowd into an uncontrollable frenzy. Flashy ’70s style pimp suits, men in diapers and a plethora of band members roamed on and off the stage throughout the two-hour set. Clinton was right on with his “one nation under a groove, getting down just for the funk of it” vibe, which is exactly what transpired.

Energized by the overload of funk, moe. took the stage for their final sets of the weekend and showed why they’ve been the focus of the festival. The monster second set was ridiculous. The “Not Coming Down” > “Wormwood” > “Synchronicity” segue was slick, and during which Schneir and Garvey appeared high above their subsequent stage sides on the massive lighting rigs, where they proceeded to shred! moe., who might have been outshined earlier in the festival, stepped up their game and gave the energized crowd a wonderful send off with a seventeen-plus minute “Rebubula” encore.

I’ve seen this festival grow leaps and bounds over the last several years, and this year’s edition was the most solid lineup to date. Wayne Coyne was on to something when he mentioned how this was “one of the great festivals in America”, and hopefully it will stay that way because the bar they set this year was extremely high.

This article originally appeared on Afrobeat: Beyond Fela and After on 03/22/08.

When I was first approached to write an article on Nigerian music for Muse Magazine, I accepted the invitation without hesitation. Truthfully, I was quite excited. Being an ethnomusicologist who had recently returned to Nigeria from the U.S. to do fieldwork in the area of popular music, the prospect of contributing—giving back, as it were, to the society which not only had spawned me, but which had now become the bedrock of my academic research was indeed delightful. Almost immediately, I started to think about a topic to write about. It did not take very long, however, for me to realize something that I had known for a long time; something I should have first considered before my initial gleeful acceptance of the invitation to write. My muse was long estranged.

Benumbed by the fear of that daunting realization: that I was going to fail to deliver, I relapsed into a state of crisis. My muse, you see, is highly unreliable. She disappears for stretches at once, and then, when least expected, reappears. Sometimes her reappearances are fleeting; a hint of an idea, a spark of creativity, followed by long periods of darkness. But at other times the visits are protracted and rapturous. I wished I was experiencing one of those longer reunions. Maybe I was. Slowly, but very clearly, revelation came. It occurred to me that my current creative crisis, the relationship between my capricious muse and I could be a metaphor for the state of affairs of Nigerian music.

Historically, Nigeria has produced some of the most exciting music to have emerged from the African continent and its far flung Diaspora. Most of these musical genres formed over time within the cauldron of crises, socio-cultural and political. Pre-independence, highlife emerged in Ghana, Nigeria, and other countries along the West African coast as the transethnic soundtrack to nationalism. Highlife’s brave brassy chorus line and sinuous guitar rhythms embodied the struggles of diverse ethnic groups to forge urban identities which registered, yet transcended the colonial affiliations of newly emerging polities. Its potpourri of local rhythms, melodies and polyglot palette consolidated emergent national identities.

The crises of the Nigerian Civil War contributed to the decline of highlife music in the West, simultaneously opening up space for the rise of juju music in this region. Championed by exponents such as I.K. Dairo, Chief Commander Ebenezer Obey and King Sunny Ade, juju music would achieve international success as a “world” music genre proffered to be in league with reggae. In Eastern Nigeria, the devastation of the War stripped most people of all means of livelihood. Musicians were not exempt. Shorn of all but the most portable, cheapest and easily accessible instrument of the highlife band, the guitar, highlife musicians in the East developed a guitar band variant of the genre. It is from this Eastern school that the memorable Sweet Mother, still the most well known popular song across Africa, emerged.

By far the most explosive musical genre to have come out of Africa so far is Afrobeat. Created by Fela Anikulapo-Kuti, Afrobeat’s staggered rhythms, boisterous horns, stark poetry and antiestablishment ideology gave voice to the teeming Nigerian grassroots, articulating their disenfranchisement with the postcolonial state. It is a testimony to Afrobeat’s universality that today, the genre can be heard live in the bars, café’s, clubs and concert venues of New York, San Francisco, London, Paris, etc.

The global flowering which Afrobeat has encountered since the death of Fela in 1997 seems to have eluded the genre’s country of origin. While bands like Antibalas, Akoya, Chicago Afrobeat Project, Aphrodesia, Fanga, Afrobeat Academy and Albino continue to spring up all across the U.S and Europe, only a few stalwarts—the Kuti siblings: Femi and Seun; Dede, for example, have been able to successfully carry on the tradition in Nigeria. To be sure, there are other Nigerian Afrobeat ambassadors, but most of these musicians have had to relocate to Europe and America where their roles in the perpetuation of Afrobeat music continues to be significant. What could be responsible for the stagnation of the Afrobeat tradition in Nigeria? Where has the Nigerian muse gone, and should we be concerned?

Many reasons have been proffered for the crisis of creativity that we are currently experiencing, most of which center around the dearth of live music which the country experienced in the 90s. The economic decline that gripped the country during the military era resulted in a situation where only a very few could afford musical instruments. It also meant that for most people, budgetary decisions were reduced to the choice between a loaf of bread and live music patronage. Most people naturally chose the former. With poverty, the attendant problem of poor security kept most people indoors at night even when they could afford to spend some money at live music venues. The decreasing bar and club crowd was matched conversely by the church and mosque going demographic as Nigerians became increasingly religious, seeking spiritual succor from the economic hardships they were facing.

There are other factors unique to the retarded growth of Afrobeat in Nigeria. The fact of Fela’s larger than life imprint on the genre is of course an issue that cannot be overlooked. Most Nigerian musicians shy away from being identified as Afrobeat musicians because those whom have thus ventured have been shortchanged financially due to criticisms of either trying to copy the Chief Priest verbatim without displaying much of their own creativity, or, taking the genre too far away from its essential elements, distorting a musical style which many hold as somewhat sacred.

Although many would argue that Nigeria is not yet experiencing a true economic rebound—and perhaps this may be so—the live music scene is definitely experiencing a revival not unconnected to increased private investments and urban development. Several clubs, bars and restaurants have sprung up in Lagos, some of which are owned by foreigners whom as a result of the government’s economic reforms have been emboldened to make monetary investments in the country. However, with this influx of private investment, the country has also been opened up to a fresh bombardment of foreign musical culture. This influence is most significantly felt in the growing ascendency of hip hop music and the competition it is posing against the time tested Nigerian musical forms: highlife, juju, Afrobeat.

Of course, Nigeria is not new to the impact of foreign cultural influences. In the 60s and 70s, the nation, along with other West African countries was deeply influenced by the worldwide explosion of African American soul. During this time, several “copy cat” bands emerged whose sole repertoire consisted of covers of soul hits or local compositions which aped such hits. There is, however, a fundamental difference between the “copy cat” bands of the 60s and 70s and the current Nigerian hip-hopers, namely: medium of performance. While the “copy cat” bands were bands, playing live musical instruments, the deejay culture with its heavy reliance on electronic gadgetry appears antithetical to live music making. Ultimately, there are fewer “true” musicians, and musical development is stymied—(I once attended a hip-hop concert in which all the musicians lipsynced to their prerecorded tracks). On a more positive note, its is commendable that some Nigerian hip-hop musicians have been incorporating elements of Nigerian rhythm, melodies and languages into their music, carving a distinctly Nigerian hip-hop niche for themselves in the popular media. It may be argued, then, that the economical conservativeness of hip-hop music has provided an alternative outlet for a younger generation of Nigerian musicians whom have not been privileged to learn musical instruments. However, it is yet to see whether as it happened during the soul/funk era, a Nigerian musical form that is as unique and explosive as Afrobeat will emerge from our current musical experience.

It is yet too early to tell what the Nigerian muse of musical creativity is up to, whether what we are experiencing is really a crisis of creativity, or if there is some latent creativity in the cultural crisis we are currently experiencing. Has the Nigerian muse absconded, leaving Nigerian musicians to their floundering antics? How long will she be gone, or, did she ever leave to start with? After all, some musical genres: fuji, apala, juju etc. continue to thrive in uncanny byways all across the country regardless of the superficial vagaries of the corporate music industry and the polity as a whole. Everyone knows that sometimes, the best places to eat aren’t posh restaurants but those lowly and obscure sheds far away from opulence. Perhaps similarly, the best places to hear the most contemporary African music are those byways where accomplished bards historicize through song and rhythm the current moods and experiences of the ordinary Nigerian. And because through all the political and economic turmoil that have befallen our nation these musicians were never silenced, it can be debated whether live music ever really died in Nigeria; whether our muse ever really left.

This article originally appeared on the Chicago Reader’s Crickets Blog.

If you’re on the fence about the Chicago Afrobeat Project’s concert at the House of Blues this Friday, consider this: it’s just been turned into a benefit for the Kenya Red Cross, which is currently busy aiding people and communities affected by the violence that broke out after the disputed December 30 election.

A duo of guitarist Fareed Haque and tabla player Kalyan Pathak opens; other participants in the jam include breakdancers Anacron and the Brickheadz crew, “live artist” Chadwick painting onstage, and MC Cap D from All Natural. Tickets are $12-$14 and the show’s at 9 PM; you have to be at least 18 to get in. As far as I can tell, nobody’s going to be raffling off breast implants.