....................................Sometimes music genres and sub-genres emerge and disappear largely on the basis of the fame of its one or two chief protagonists.  If he or they fade away, the genre they largely created doesn’t always survive.  ‘Grunge’ is maybe the best example of this.  After Kurt Cobain self-destructed, there didn’t seem to be much left to say, nor much of anyone left to say it.  Cobain didn’t create the genre, but he certainly defined it.  Eddie Vedder was not even a Pac NW’er by origin, and others had their own drug problems, so the genre was without a spiritual leader.  Heroin certainly wasn’t cool any more, and after the success of the well-scrubbed Spice Girls, it seemed like a good time to kick out the jams with cute little boy bands.  I gave up on reggae for the same reason years ago.  Without Bob Marley, and then runner-up Peter Tosh, I figured that was that.  Without Bob’s lyrics and leadership, there didn’t seem to be much left but empty baggage and an empire to be divided up amongst the sons, the musical fruit, so to speak.  I always liked the island theme, and reggae was the perfectly focused complement to Jimmy Buffett’s all-you-can-eat island style, but after Marley it seemed there was just Rasta, no more reggae. 

   

Somehow it survived all these years, so I’ve been giving it another listen lately.  What with all the Marley brothers collectively carrying on Dad’s tradition in good form, and Ziggy acquiring some seniority and well-earned moral leadership (even if Daddy penned half his live set), it seemed worth a try.  But what really inspires me is some of the Afro-pop artists, particularly Oliver Mtukudzi, doing a fine job of picking up the original musical spirit of reggae BUT WITHOUT ALL THE RASTA STUFF (if you overstand what I mean).  So it was with high hopes that I ventured out to Grand Performances last Friday noon to catch Rocky Dawuni’s act, the so-called ‘Bob Marley of ....Ghana....,’ though I really wasn’t very familiar with his work.  My standards for acceptance are not that high really.  I’ve even gotten used to the red-gold-and-green chrocheted turbans that hide more hair than a Sikh cabbie in NYC.  Just don’t give some some strutting peacock with flying locks spreading pheromones and more dread than his half-baked lyrics.  Unfortunately Rocky seemed all that and more, apparently lots of baggage but not much inside, all style and no substance.  I left early.  If there’s anything worse than a woman trying to pass off her good looks as good music, it’s a man doing the same.  Fortunately in the spirit of fairness I decided to check out his MySpace site before completing this paragraph.  It’s a good thing.  ‘In ....Ghana....’ is a first-rate song and some of the others aren’t bad either.  Too bad Obama didn’t use it last week in ....Accra.....  This is a warning, Dawuni- tone down the strut (and please don’t name your next album ‘Lion of Zion’- please?).  You’ve been warned.  Some of us are neither stoned nor hormoned.

    

“VIVER BRASIL” is something else, though, no substance abuse here.  I caught this as a freebie at Levitt Pavilion in ....Pasadena...., though I’m sure it’d be well worth the full fare for the full bill at any of the venues they’ve played over the years around LA while honing the act.  Though ‘Ballet Folclorico’ is not a new concept and similar productions have been done based on the traditions of a number of countries around the world, the results are mixed.  Such things can be truly inspiring or horribly hokey.  Fortunately ‘Viver Brasil’ falls into the former category.  The show is essentially the interaction between music and dance, a la Brasileira, the dancers all female and all local, the musicians all males and Brazilian, headed up by co-founder Luiz Badaro’.  The themes, for both dance and music, are based on the cultural milieu of Salvador de Bahia, which is to say Afro-Brazilian, colorful and throbbing.  The costumes alone are worth the price of admission. 

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A special treat is the inclusion of native carioca (that means from ..Rio.., not a tribe of voice-over lounge singers) Katia Moraes of LA’s Sambaguru handling vocal chores for the show.  This is an excellent place for her to stretch beyond her more typical smooth samba/bossa nova style into something deeper and more aggressive and more tribal.  She’s excellent at it of course.  The show’s only hokey moments came during the mock-capoeira dance (though real capoeira is not much different), as the two ‘combatants’ competed for applause.  That’s okay; chalk it up to the reality TV influence.  Capoeira is in its element on the dance floor regardless.  I can’t imagine walking through a ....Sao Paulo.... slum and every time a fight breaks out the choreography begins.  West Side Story would be proud.

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I also caught a piece of David Zasloff’s band Thursday night while shopping at the Farmer’s Market and was pleasantly surprised.  They rocked, though I’d have probably been at ....McArthur.. ..Park.... to hear Lili Haydn if I’d known about it.  It’s not often you get to hear someone who’s been called the ‘female Jimi Hendrix of the electric violin,’ but they apparently only got their 2009 schedule up on the web within the last week or so.  Oh well, maybe they’ll get their act together one day, probably the day of deadline.  There’s so much good music in summer in LA, if you snooze you’ll lose.  I’d like to be covering ....San Diego.... and TJ also, and could too, but LA’s got so much already that it’s hard to get motivated to look around the edges.  This week’s no different, starting off with Bobby Matos at ..Hollywood.. and ..Highland.. on Tuesday, then Malian techno-tribal singer Issa Bagayogo at the Skirball on Thursday, while the West African Highlife Band holds the stage at Levitt Pavilion in ....McArthur.. ..Park.....  Watcha Clan and Cucu Diamantes will be at Grand Performances downtown Thursday, and Albita will show up Friday.  And of course it’s all free.  It’s hard to beat that.  El Gran Silencio will be in TJ and Amadou & Mariam will open for Coldplay at Cricket Wireless Amphitheatre in ....San Diego.....  Get off the Net and out the door.