Sometimes music ceases to be just music, and manages to reach outside of the vinyl it was pressed on to interact with the world around it. Zombie, the twenty-seventh full length record by Afrobeat legend Fela Kuti, is a perfect example of this. This record, which attempted to deal with serious political circumstances in a deliciously funky way, set off a chain of events which would eventually culminate in the destruction of Kuti’s commune and the murder of his mother, both at the hands of the military. Zombie has been reissued in various countries with a whole plethora of bonus tracks, but this article will focus on the original 1977 vinyl issue that featured only two tracks – “Zombie” and “Mister Follow Follow.”

The title track is an infectious twelve minute groove that shows why Kuti is the master of this kind of music, and also demonstrates the incredible musicians he surrounded himself with. The album was recorded to criticize and antagonize the Nigerian government, the title track specifically targeting the military that controlled much of the country. Kuti is brave and funny in his attack on these “zombie soldiers” as he barks orders over the music, a choir singing the word “zombie” in between each one.

The album was a huge success and managed to inspire people (upon seeing a soldier people would raise their arms in front of them, stare blankly ahead and chant “Zombie”) and infuriate the Nigerian government at the same time. This motivated President Olusegun Obasanjo to order a military attack upon Kuti’s commune. One thousand soldiers descended upon the commune, beating Kuti almost to death and burning the commune to the ground, killing Kuti’s seventy-eight year old mother in the process.

Kuti later went on to record the details of this event in his song “Unknown Soldier,” but this is the record that started this movement and despite the grim circumstances surrounding it, it’s a lot of fun to listen to. The tracks themselves sit incredibly well beside each other with “Mister Follow Follow” offering a freer, more jazz indebted groove to counteract the comparatively structured “Zombie” with its almost militaristic rigidity.

Kuti attacks his targets with wit and Tony Allen once again demonstrates why he is one of the best drummers that ever lived. His drums are loose, yet they never stray from being the bedrock of the song, tying Kuti’s often complex and improvisational arrangements to the rest of the song, improvising along within his own, strict formula. The pair essentially created Afrobeat and this record sees them continuing to be pioneers of the genre, subtle egg shaker and rhythm guitar offsetting the brashness of Kuti’s trumpet.

What the music accomplished and was subsequently surrounded by should in no way reflect the record itself – Zombie is an infectious, joyous and beautifully crafted record of expression. Even if the listener has no inkling of the events that unfolded there is plenty to enjoy on this record and the music itself is revolutionary, regardless of the actual revolution it started.