Before David Guetta, there was his great grandfather Kiki
Guetta. Born in Tunis at the end of the nineteenth century, Jacob “Kiki” Guetta
championed neither popular nor Andalusian music but rather the North African
comic song. Taking a cue from the light hearted repertoire then being refined
on vaudevillian stages as far afield as Paris and New York, Guetta adapted the
genre to Arabic, established his own troupe, and entertained mixed Muslim and
Jewish cabaret audiences beginning in the earliest years of the twentieth
century. When Gramophone released its first catalogue in Tunisia in 1910,
Guetta’s discs were featured prominently.
Guetta, like his Moroccan and Algerian Jewish contemporaries
who embraced the style, pushed the boundaries of the acceptable in public. On many
of his records, he ridiculed those in power, poked fun at his compatriots, and drew
attention to emerging social problems. But, as his successors would soon do, he sang
about the more banal.
In some cases, the banal, or the light song, took the form
of translated ditties, like Guetta’s Arabic version of La Petite Tonkinoise,
while in other instances it meant connecting the latest international music
trend - often Latin - to the local palate. Perhaps nothing exemplifies this
better than the array of songs released toward the middle of the century on the
subject of chakchouka, the North African tomato and egg delicacy that many of
us have come to know and love. Imar Maghy, for instance, a Tunisian Jewish
comic of the 1950s and 1960s, would set “chakchouka” to cha cha cha, pepper it with Arabic, and serve up wildly
popular results. Even if the tune has little to do with cuisine itself, one can
surely appreciate the identitarian aspect of it. You will find a taste below.
Not to be outdone was the Algerian
Blond Blond, who sang
about both the merguez sausage and chakchouka, and his Sétif-born colleague
Alberto
Darmon aka Staïffi (and his group: ses Mustaphas), who made his version of “chakchouka”
into a dance number while also putting the culinary delights of the
Belkacem
restaurant - rhyming the Arabic word for “beans” with the French for
“unforgettable” - to a foot-tapping harmony.
Of course, there is much more to be said on the subject of
Jews and comedy in North Africa in the first half of the twentieth century but an
outline will have to suffice for now. Comic monologues and songs can be counted
as among the earliest pieces to be recorded on wax cylinder across the
Maghreb. In Algeria, the impresario Edmond Nathan Yafil would bring the scène
comique to large audiences, impressing none other than Mahieddine Bachetarzi,
who himself would take Algerian comedy and theater to the next level.
I would also be remiss in not mentioning that a number of
these pioneers of comic song, along with their stand-up counterparts, made their
way to France and Israel around mid-century, including the Moroccan Maurice
Lusky, who can be heard below doing his classic “drunkard” sketch with Raymonde
El Bidaouia.
I will have to leave it here but welcome further thoughts and comments. In
the meantime, good listening, bon appétit, and b’saha!
