Manu Chao brings the people together

[Guest blogger August Brown is into distribution. He's like Atlantic.]

If ripping on Ol' G.W.B. was the weekend's big theme, pan-ethnic punk/funk may have been another. Gogol Bordello threw down for the Eastern Bloc, Konono No 1. repped the Congo, and the Spanish-via-Paris vagabond Manu Chao did his best to prepare the audience for the Rage to come in a half-hour.

Coachella fans heard Chao's handiwork last year, having midwifed Amadou & Mariam's Malian blues on "Dimanche A Bamako." But on the main stage, Chao cherry-picked from countless cultures; English punk, bossa nova and cut-'em-fat reggae were all fair game. It's unfair to stick Chao in the ghetto of the World Music bin, because nothing he does emulates the music of other cultures -- it's the real article. Grinning in a sporty bandanna, Chao sung with a revolutionary energy, and his gangbusters backing band matched him step for step. His bassist, who looked like Henry Rollins after a few trips down a buffet line, laid down deep, vigorous grooves while his guitarist melted faces with a high-wire flamenco solo.

Chao's a born provocatuer as well, which is part of what makes him so beloved in Latin American politico circles. He dedicated one song to the "minor terrorist" we call President, before calling out Guantamo and random spying as part of the problem. But don't worry, he still finished one roiling hardcore tune with the chorus "me gusta marijuana." Back at you, Manu.