Atalaku
In the sebene instrumental section of a Congolese rumba song, the atalaku serves as the band's frontman, responsible for actively engaging the audience, building excitement, and augmenting the performance with spirited vocalizations and rhythmic chants.
[2][1] According to social anthropology professor Bob W. White of the University of Montreal, the term atalaku derives from the Kikongo expression for "look here, look at me" and first appeared in common parlance in Kinshasa in the early 1980s.
[2] The atalaku then takes center stage, wielding a microphone and often maracas (a type of rattle), to deliver a series of cris (shouts) and chants-cris (sung-shouts).
These vocal elements are meticulously timed to synchronize with the fast-paced guitar and drum rhythms, which drive both the musicians and the audience into a dancing frenzy.
[2] This diverse role requires incredible stamina, as the atalaku must maintain high energy levels throughout prolonged sebene, which can extend for several hours.
[2] The atalaku's shouts are often delivered in coded language, drawing from obscure expressions in local dialects such as Kikongo or Kiumbu, as well as urban slang.
[2] Modeled after the animateurs of political rallies, who employed performance to elicit support for the regime, the atalaku's role evolved into a systematic methodology for enlivening the audience and creating a memorable live experience.
[2] In the early 1970s, numerous emerging music bands, recognizing the audience's preference for performative dance sequences, began extending the sebene—the instrumental and dance-intensive segment of a song—to the conclusion of tracks.
[2] Franco Luambo notably popularized this practice, employing a thumb-and-forefinger picking technique that created the auditory illusion of dual guitar lines.
[2] Under the supervision of Kumaye, a Kintambo-based businessman and local community figure, Bana Odeon was one of the first neighborhood folklore bands to manage an administrative office and staff for its operations.
[2] Drawing inspiration from the elder (predominantly Baumbu) musicians of Kintambo, Kumaye and his collaborators recruited a substantial number of unemployed local youth and trained them in traditional dance and music.
[2] Since the late 1990s, Kinshasa has witnessed at least two innovations in this area: a wave of junior atalakus (one of whom was eleven years old) and a series of shouts that appeared in languages other than Lingala and Kikongo, especially Tshiluba.
