Ethiopiques 16 Asnaqetch Werqu CD

Before Asnaqètch Wèrqu became famous as a singer and krar player, she was well known for her brilliant career as an actress and dancer. Wèrqu was the last great singer, storyteller and free-thinker to carry on the tradition of "poetic jous ting." She did not just experience the vicissitudes of life, she constantly found the voice to transform them into poignant laments or sarcastic ditties, which have earned her respect and recognition to this day!

REVIEWS

From Rolling Stone, April 2004:
The Lady with the Krar & Tlahoun Gessesse
By Pat Blashill

"MORE HIGHLIGHTS FROM A STELLAR ETHIOPIAN MUSIC SERIES Now well into the double digits, the consistently amazing Ethiopiques series compiles Ethiopian pop and traditional music that was recorded in the early seventies, a brief window of artistic freedom for Ethiopian musicians between the imperial rule of Haile Selassie and a repressive communist regime known as the Derg. The sixteenth volume focuses on the spare, haunting music of Asnaqeth Werqu, who accompanies herself on the traditional Ethiopian lyre, called a krar. On the unrequited love song "Ende lyerusalem" ("Like Jerusalem"), Werqu attacks the strings of her instrument and scatters notes in every direction as she sings, in an eerie wail, "I have come to the point of desiring him and his wife at the same time." It's as minimal and tortured as the American blues of Robert Johnson - like Johnson, Werqu regards love as something that burns like acid.

"The delirious nightclub pop of Tlahoun Gessesse, the star of the seventeenth volume, is just as impassioned but sounds more like the rest of the Ethiopiques series, as it seems to be a mélange of Ethiopian traditional music and American jazz and soul. Gessesse's startling voice often leaps from a quivering moan to a scabrous shout while the tunes blue the line between secular and sacred: On "Aykedashem lebe" ("My Heart Will Not Betray You"), Gessesse sings in Amharic, but soon the lyrics dissolve into an anguished, almost supernatural "Mmm-mmmhh!" As the singer cries helplessly, "Aykedashem" becomes a case study in the sort of desire that requires an exorcism."

From Pittsburgh City Paper, 3/18/2004
By Bruce Miller

"It's wonderful that we live in a musical universe where we can purchase re-issued recordings of, for instance, a Zimbabwean string band from the '30s who sound not unlike a similar ensemble from Tennessee, or a Nigerian acid-rock power trio more influenced by Grand Funk than James Brown. But it begs questions too. How should we listen?

As a nation of consumers, are we able to truly grasp recorded music's geographic impurities and learn something? Or do we merely digest them as kitsch and, like paper plates, toss them aside after we're "done"? French label Buda's bottomless Ethiopian releases[...]are giving us further reasons to consider just why we like what we do and, for those few who concern themselves with origins, note further twists on an already knotted path.

"Volume 16 in the Ethiopiques series--which has shown no dips in quality, or quantity for that matter, as volumes 18 and 19 are already on the burner--brings us the first volume of Ethiopian music both recorded during that country's all-too-brief early '70s heyday, and completely devoted to a woman. Asnaqetch Werqu was an Asmari, the Ethiopian musician caste, and initially worked as an actress and dancer in the Haile Sellassie I theater troupe--in fact, she was the first woman to be part of this troupe. But Werqu is better known for her mastery of the krar, an instrument often considered to be "the work of the devil" (not unlike the fiddle in North American folk history). The krar resembles a small harp and is placed on the knee and plucked as the singer chants a friend's praises or on-the-spot poetic improvisations. On the Ethiopiques release, Werqu weaves epic tales and woeful ballads of lost love. In fact, stripped down, krar-only versions of tunes heard elsewhere in this series pop up here, giving us a sense of the music's oral history.

"On the other hand, Volume 17--a 70-minute dose of fervent soul belter Tlahoun Gessesse--is another East African groove bomb in what now seems like the Ethiopiques tradition. Not as seductive as Mahmoud Ahmed (Volumes 6 and 7), or as frantic as Alemeyehu Ashete (Volume 9), Gessesse holds verbal court over grooves that float and bob like a funk band from Mars. Many of the horn melodies here could, and probably did, charm snakes and cast out demons. Aside from the distinction of being a pan-African sensation (the first from Ethiopia), he was also politically outspoken, getting himself arrested during the 1960 coup. (Those familiar with Volume 3 of the series have already experienced a small sampling of Gessesse, and Buda is promising more to come from this still-active superstar.)"

From SF Weekly:
"The Ethiopiques compilations highlight some of the most unique, challenging, and sensuous styles of music ever produced--a sound that is sly, slippery and designed for world-class booty shaking."

Tracks:
1. Tezeta
2. Mengedegnaw Lebe
3. Endegena
4. Mela Mela
5. Gubelye
6. Sabye
7. Alemye
8. Endeneh Belulegn
9. Ereye Demamu
10. Wegene
11. Ende Lyerusalem
12. Lomi Talubat
13. Altchelewem Berd New
14. Feqrye Tereda
15. Shemonmwanayewa
16. Feqrie Dehna Hun
17. Tchela Atbelegn
18. Gum Gum
19. Eh Lebel
20. Alem Shegga
21. Sela Belelegn
22. Merche New