Send Them Back Suk Usan Idang by Charles Duke: A Funky Time Capsule from 1973 Nigeria
Alright, let’s dive into this funky little gem of an album. Send Them Back Suk Usan Idang by Charles Duke isn’t your run-of-the-mill rock and soul record—it’s like a time machine that drops you straight into the sweaty, groove-laden dance floors of 1970s Nigeria. Released on EMI in ‘73, it’s got grit, swagger, and enough cowbell to make even the most stoic listener crack a smile.
Now, I gotta say, the title track, "Send Them Back," is one of those songs that sticks with you—not because it’s perfect (spoiler: it ain’t), but because it’s just so damn bold. The opening riff hits like a runaway taxi, all clunky guitars and basslines that feel like they’re trying to escape the mix. It’s raw, unpolished, and honestly? That’s what makes it unforgettable. You can almost picture Charles Duke and his band jamming this out in some Lagos studio, sweat dripping onto their instruments while someone yells “Keep rolling!” in the background. It’s not about perfection here; it’s about personality. And man, does this track have personality for days.
Then there’s "Suk Usan Idang." Oh boy, where do I even start? This tune feels like someone took James Brown’s funk playbook, threw it into a blender with Fela Kuti’s Afrobeat vibes, and hit puree. The rhythm section slaps harder than your grandma’s Sunday stew, and the horns? Don’t get me started on the horns—they’re like the cherry on top of a very chaotic sundae. There’s something delightfully unhinged about how everything comes together. Is it polished? Nope. Does it work? Absolutely. If you’re looking for music that sounds like organized chaos at its finest, this is your jam.
What strikes me most about this album is how unapologetically Nigerian it feels. Sure, it borrows from Western rock and funk traditions, but Charles Duke doesn’t try to mimic them—he twists them into something uniquely his own. Listening to these tracks feels like overhearing a conversation between cultures, full of inside jokes and shared glances.
Here’s the kicker though: as much fun as this album is, it also leaves you wondering—what happened to Charles Duke after this? Did he keep making music? Did he retire to open a roadside bar where locals still talk about his wild shows? Or maybe he just disappeared, leaving behind this one gloriously messy masterpiece. Either way, Send Them Back Suk Usan Idang stands as proof that sometimes, imperfection is exactly what makes art memorable.
So if you’re hunting for an album that’ll transport you to another era without taking itself too seriously, give this one a spin. Just don’t blame me when you find yourself humming “Suk Usan Idang” while stuck in traffic. Trust me—it happens.
