sarah ndagire: a race oddity

sarah ndagire, a highly respected exponent of traditional ugandan music and afro-jazz, was definitely my favourite amongst the performers who kicked-off this year's london african festival - other artistes who took part in the opening-day at the southbank centre, on friday 10th september 2010, included the legendary chadian rapper, mc solaar, sudanese jazz-fusion vocalist, amira kheir, and dj edu of radio 1 extra. a star of kamapala radio, and superb linguist, sarah's folk-rhythms and melodies thrived on the improvisational afro-jazz-fusion talents of argile, the afro-german band which has invited her on a tour of europe this summer. it was fucking fab - the proof of the pudding being that ugandan home-girls in the audience got up and shook-their-stuff-to-the-beat in sheer arse-wiggling approval.

however, there was, as there always seems to be at such fortuitous events, a sour note - the stuck-up twat with whom i attended this show, and who effectively invited me down to it in the first place, but nevertheless neglected to buy me a drink despite being quite au fait with my completely skint financial situation that day, decided to take exception to the ethnicity of ms ndagire's musicians. well...perhaps next time, instead of going begging-bowl in hand to the white-wizard of oxford, boris de bully johnson, stuck-up twat and stuck-up twat's stinking rich and influential friends might see their way clear to busting-open their unendangered wallets and privately sponsoring an authentic african festival (whatever the heck that may be when it's at home) which specially caters for stuck-up twats like the stuck-up twat who has a penchant for masquerading as my friend. i keep telling the twat: nothing good ever comes of compulsory taxation - which is basically how we end up with an african ticket-only festival (a bit like an english bring-a-bottle party) with the somewhat surreal spectacle of white-men dressed in full african costume playing the drums, wickedly. in light of such blinding ignorance on the twat's part, i suppose i should not have been overly surprised that, on the way home, my inconstant consort topped-off the evening by informing me that i should pay 'taxes' to her gangster brothers in the mafia - hells bells, she keeps expressing a desire to 'collaborate' with me, but i rather reckon she'd do better collaborating with the inland cunting revenue.

ok...fair enough...in a world of ideal music, i would have preferred to have experienced an afro-african ensemble, but all-in-all i'm bloody glad i gate-crashed the mc solaar gig - it was bloody great, as was ms ndagire and her kooky but keen kraut crossovers, and there was never any doubt whatsoever that this celebrated ugandan singer, adorned in her stunning tribal costume, with her fluid african moves and genuine african curves, was anything less than an original african diva. rock on sarah!