In his sixth and latest album “New African Orleans”, released by ENJA and Yellow Bird, bass guitarist and composer Alune Wade explores the multiple junctions between his native West African rhythms, the Afrobeat and juju rhythms from Lagos and the brass band repertoire immortalized in New Orleans. “I’m exploring a world that goes from my roots to the lost branches on the other side of the Atlantic,” explains the musician from Senegal. He has whittled down around 50 compositions – both original and standards - to a dozen which Alune recorded in Paris, Dakar, Lagos and New Orleans. “The idea first came to me during the Jazz à Gorée festival I organized back in 2014,” he explains. “It had me reflect on the notion of reversing the musical trip most people take from the United States to the African continent. I wanted to set out westward and begin a musical conversation with the best artists, both in Nigeria and the US.”
To achieve this, Wade has invited top artists from both sides of the Atlantic, including the Nigerian talking drummer Olaore Muyiwa Ayandeji, the percussionist Weedie Braimah and the jazz drummer Herlin Riley from New Orleans. The musical inspirations are equally transatlantic, ranging from Dr. John to Manu Dibango and Charlie Parker. But the 45-year-old also pays homage to his father who was a brass band star in his native Senegal back in the Sixties.
BACKGROUND

We only have a partial idea of the birth and remarkable development of the music born of the transatlantic slave trade. From Malinke ballads to Cuban son, from call-and-response patterns to field hollers and hip-hop, Yoruba rhythms to Argentinian tango, from Angolan percussions to the New Orleans brass band sounds… all have roots in Africa and a shackled migration that lasted four centuries. No more so than Congo Square in the Louisiana capital. In 2024, we mark the 300th anniversary of the implementation of the Code Noir which “gave enslaved Africans Sundays off to dance”. A drop in the ocean, but one which shows the importance of culture as a lifebuoy against this barbaric trade. As the Guadeloupian writer Daniel Maximin once claimed: “Our music guided us from the scream to the song, from dragging our chains to dancing.”