The struggle to pronounce some of the more difficult Amharic consonants and constructions—difficult for English speakers—will often meet with an encouraging exclamation of “gobez”! Translations for the word range from smart to brave to courageous to talented to witty. Debo Band’s saxophonist, leader and ethnomusicologist Danny Mekonnen translates the phrase “Ere gobez” as a “call of the lionhearted—it's a term used to inspire.” It’s certainly an apt label and message for the Ethiopian 11-piece band’s second album, a record the reaches and then surpasses the heights of their excellent 2012 self-titled debut.
Because not only do the varying definitions of *gobez *fit the range of music on this record, but the music of Debo Band is that of a big, brave roar, song after song. This is a powerful, and, perhaps, inspirational record: it certainly inspires dancing__,__ filling spaces and capturing a dynamic live sensibility. It’s no surprise that this is a band that takes up a great deal of room. With so many members, some in Boston, some as far away as Addis Ababa (violinist Kaethe Hostetter established a String Center in the Ethiopian capital), Debo is true to its name, which means “communal labor.” The community of Debo Band includes a bold, shimmery horn section, complete with sousaphone, but also slick guitar, a tight rhythm section, orchestral strings, an accordion and, on occasion, a masinquo—a one-stringed Ethiopian fiddle. There’s a quaver in lead vocalist Bruck Tesfaye’s voice that is in keeping with Amharic-language singing style, but it is a powerfully pure energy that sits on top of each song, rising along with all the other instruments.
If you know anything about Ethiopian music and musical traditions, it’s most likely that you have a good relationship with the over two-dozen edition strong Éthiopiques series, lovingly curated by France’s Francis Falceto. The series focuses on the 1960s and ‘70s, and Debo Band certainly draws from this era, but they also pull from more recent times as well as from funk, rock and pop. Debo’s material is reinterpreted and reconsidered, pushed through a creative process that remains true to source as well as their own specific sound (7 of the 11 tracks on the album draw from previously existing works, which are well cited in the liner notes).
There is an adaptation of Somali Dur-Dur band song “Rafaad iyo Raaxo” (originally performed in the mid-'80s) on “Kehulum Abliche” and Debo Band dips into Okinawa, Japan in “Hiyamikachi Bushi” (a song composed almost 60 years ago). Ere Gobez provides numerous examples how Debo Band seems to taking part in conversations that are happening in multiple spaces and places at different times. Heck, “Yalanchi” sounds almost like a smooth groove that might, just might, be in good company with some Yacht Rock luminaries.
For those unfamiliar, it’s valuable to note that the specific rhythms of songs such as “Oromo” and “Ele” draw upon the musical cultures of the Oromo and Gurage. The infectious spring of these two tracks is undeniable. It’s near impossible not to dance to, even if you aren’t familiar with the exact dance styles necessary, though it’s certainly fun to take a little YouTube trip to find out the level of skill and control involved in Oromo as well as Gurage dancing. By doing so, one can understand just how important the big sound and speed of the songs function for dancing. And it’s hard to imagine any of the band members standing still during the recording of this record. Or anyone who will listen to *Ere Gobez *or see Debo Band live either. Each track seems to bounce around the room, pulling the listener along with it.
