French West Indies' Creole boogaloo documented on Disque La Rayé

Deep digger Julien Achard spent three years collecting the rare 7" singles for Born Bad's tight Disque La Rayé compilation. 

Excerpted from the liner notes of Disque La Rayé...

Boogaloo’s energy seduced young people from different backgrounds, well beyond the borders of the U.S.A., especially in the Caribbean: Cuba, Puerto Rico, Dominica, and all the way to the French West Indies. From Fort-de-France to Pointe-à-Pitre, old biguines and mazurkas from West Indian orchestras with a strong bloodline of virtuosos, from father to son in the likes of Siobud, Stellio, Fanfant or Coppet, became outdated by those modern beats.

When boogaloo overtook the West Indies, at the same time as other music genres with amplified keyboards and electrified guitars, this new wave knocked out hierarchy and habits. The necessity to learn how to read music to call yourself a musician became obsolete, as you only needed a good pair of ears and to be tuned on the new sounds from the international radios.

 “I was a student in Paris in the early 60s”, recalls Fred Aucagos, Guadeloupe’s first rock musician. But I didn’t go much in class, I was hanging out with Golf Drouot, with Eddy Mitchell, Johnny Halliday, Dick Rivers… When I went back home in January 1966, I brought back on the island the first reverb amplifier and the first electric guitar. I was yé-yé, I wanted to play this music home.”

Aucagos started by revisiting the standards of French and Yankee rock, but the musicians in his band, the Vikings of Guadeloupe, persuaded him to sing in Creole, to add some ka drums, hire some Latin brass… On Fred Aucagos’ “Ti Man’zelle”, we can hear a subtle mix of imports from the mainland, the U.S.A and the neighboring islands. With only one desire in the end: fire up the West Indies balls.

On the dancefloors of the most prestigious nightclubs, such as La Bananeraie in Martinique or La Cocoteraie in Guadeloupe, musicians dabbled with boogaloo coming up with rather unorthodox interpretations, and this is precisely what gives this compilation its singularity and panache. It incorporates influences from the African continent thanks to the Ryco Jazz (an adaptation of “Si Tu Bois Beaucoup” of the Congolese rumba orchestra OK Jazz).

It rubs elbows with the “Jerk Vidé” of a David Martial before he turned in a doudouiste cliché. With the cheeky humor of the Guyanese Dany Play (“Mais Tu Sais”), the perkiness of Joby Valente (“Disk La Rayé” with Camille Soprann’ on sax), we (re)discover forgotten classics published half a century ago on the two historical labels in Guadeloupe: Aux Ondes of producer Raymond Célini, and Disque Debs whose boss Henri Debs can be heard behind the mic on “Ou Pas Z’ami En Moins”.

In another style, “Ou Que Di Moin” from Monsieur X is a Creole funk pamphlet, neither Latin, nor festive, and not strictly boogaloo for that matter. The Nuyorican rhythm is a tiny fraction of what the West Indies orchestras were playing, and they would often incorporate biguine and Haitian kopi elements. This compilation allows some deviations, for the fun of it, presenting tracks where boogaloo is more of an influence.

Assisted by Jean-Baptiste Guillot of the Born Bad label, Julien Achard spent more than three years digging some records to compile the best of the Creole boogaloo. The charm of the restored sound of these old 7” vinyl records is only matched by the ardor of the interpretations. “Sauvagement sexy”, wildly sexy, as Gabby Siarras sings.     – David Commeillas