Hypnotic Brass Ensemble and Tony Allen at Cargo, 29/01/09

The Hypnotic Brass Ensemble are eight horn-playing sons of Phil Cohran, trumpeter and sometime member of the Arkestra and AACM. That is a big enough draw on its own, right? Apparently not: Afrobeat legend Tony Allen was on the ticket too, having played with the HBE at an Honest Jon’s event last year. Enough now, surely? If only it was.

Openers The Mighty Jeddo weren’t the problem. They are a thunderous, multi-headed beast, lurching belligerently through all your favourite genres – free jazz, Miles fusion, punk rock, hip hop, techno, grime, and shouting. Drummer Daniel Crosby is the leader, signalling changes by throwing his arms in the air and bellowing, and could hammer nails into steel with his drumsticks. He is supported by double bass and tenor sax, the latter at times processed through a variety of pedals and effects to the point of irritating wackiness. An MC joins them to spit a rhyme for “the smokers”, its title “One Spliff” ranking alongside other classics of theirs such as “Rohypnol”. Mmmmm. A band capable of lurching from the great to the crass in a drumbeat, but a pretty exciting start to the evening nonetheless.

The HBE comprise four trumpets, two trombones, a baritone and – for the bass – a sousaphone. Now that is an instrument, coiled around the shoulders of one member like a huge, yawning serpent. They busked their way in from the street outside, and immediately threw themselves into the dance. Carefully choreographed horn waggles sprayed a fluttering funk around Cargo, with the band behaving like a hip hop troupe, all call and response and shout outs to the laydeeeez. A spritely Tony Allen joined them on drums, lending a silky undercarriage to the funk. That rhythm…I felt like I could listen to that all day. And then it started to feel like I might have too.

The HBE bowed off stage, leaving Tony with his band to play a long Afrobeat number. And then the special guests started to arrive. Ty brought good cheer and more shout outs. Tony shuffled along lithely behind. Someone else brought sanctimonious nonsense about ending all wars – “like Bono with dreadlocks” said Neil, which was right on the money. Tony kept it humming. Then – and can I remind you that none of these were on the bill – Baaba Maal added his impassioned vocals to a song about Lagos. Tony kept on keeping on. By then, it was getting really late, I was getting a bit tired (I was afro-beat, if you will) and I was – at the risk of seeming ungrateful – longing for the brass to reappear, and for everyone else just to sod off. But then – quelle fucking surprise, as they say on the streets of Mali – Damon Albarn stepped up to warble tunelessly for a couple of verses.

Who next, we began to wonder? A rumour spread around the venue that Flea was about to join them on bass. Oh, you are shitting me. Just as my feet were beginning to think about leaving, the HBE came back to pin me to the floor for a while longer, playing horn-heavy (obviously) hip-hop with the own razor-sharp drummer, before settling down into a delicious Fela groove with the full band. Just in time to salvage the evening. I had paid to see the Hypnotic Brass Ensemble with Tony Allen. Strange that I would leave feeling a little disappointed at having seen so much more.