Absolutely nothing about this set feels predictable: at 81, Mulatu Astatke is still pushing the boundaries of genre. Even on his farewell tour, there is no easing in, either. The father of Ethio-jazz and his band immediately play Tsome Diguwa as if conjuring a thunderstorm, which in turn crashes straight into Zèlèsègna Dèwèl, a piece written in the 4th-century Ethiopian tradition, its harmonic minor tonality sounding almost Arabic.
Astatke has a serious demeanour. Unsentimental, he speaks only to introduce songs or instruct the band like a schoolteacher. But he views his vibraphone with care and bewilderment, playing with intense familiarity yet almost as though discovering it for the first time. His fascination with his instrument holds the audience captive in turn. During Yèkèrmo Sèw – which fittingly translates to “a man of experience and wisdom” – Astatke’s solo fills the room, water-like in its shapeshifting.
The set is equally a showcase for his band. That song, as well as Nètsanèt, highlight their instrumental range and individual capabilities, with solos from James Arben (saxophone), Byron Wallen (trumpet), Danny Keane (plucking cello) and Alexander Hawkins (grand piano). For Kulun, an Ethiopian wedding song, two Ethiopian musicians join the ensemble, playing a masinko (a single-stringed, bowed, lute-like instrument) and a krar (a five-stringed, plucked lyre), and two dancers in traditional outfits also enter to the delight of the crowd. For Azmari and Chik Chikka, technical and highly experimental solos from Keane and John Edwards (double bass) are interspersed with dance breaks.
It’s a set rich in sensation. Edwards rubs the double bass body creating a cat-like screech, or drags the bow in an exact replica of a yawn. Richard Baker provides Ethiopian percussion astride conga drums, kenari seeds, an ogene (metal bell) and dùndún “talking” drum, creating rich texture throughout. For Yègellé Tezeta, he also sings in Ethiopian in call-and-response with Edwards’ conversational bass. Astatke introduces the penultimate song, Mulatu, as “a piece I composed for myself”: it sounds like a wandering train of thought with glittering bells and mystical keyboard.
There’s a rousing encore in Yèkatit. Where you might expect its crescendo to be resolved in a crash of drums, instead, Astatke guides drummer John Scott in a muted, controlled whisper of cymbals. It’s true to the reputation Astatke has built over his five-decade career: a whirlwind of experimentation and excitement, but always with deliberation and control.
• Mulatu Astatke plays HERE at Outernet, London, on 17 November and Christmas theatre, Galatsi, Greece on 25 November
• The London jazz festival continues to 23 November
