Inside Mulatu Astatke’s Legacy Concert In Addis Ababa

Nearly a decade after his last show in his native Ethiopia, 82-year-old Mulatu Astatke returned to the spotlight. The father of Ethio-jazz gave what may have been one of his final career performances with his band, Steps Ahead, in Addis Ababa. 

This was more than a homecoming. It represented a seminal moment and one that made us consider: who gets to witness history? What does it mean to honor Mulatu’s legacy, and how might this performance echo in the local story of Ethio-jazz?

Mulatu was born in 1943 in Jimma, southwestern Ethiopia. He then went on to train in classical music at Trinity College London, study at Berklee College of Music, and immerse himself in New York’s jazz community, all of which shaped his style. Influenced by Tito Puente, Dizzy Gillespie, Miles Davis, and John Coltrane, Mulatu began developing Ethio-jazz. 

In 1966 in the US, Mulatu recorded “Meskerem Siteba,” a precursor to Ethio-jazz—a genre blending Ethiopian pentatonic scales or kignit (Tizita, Bati, Ambassel, Anchihoye) with rock, funk, soul, and Latin percussion.

I’ve seen most of the greats perform live: Mahmoud Ahmed, Girma Beyene, Aster Awake, Tsehay Yohannes, Tilahun Gessesse, and more. But I’ve somehow managed to miss all of Mulatu’s performances due to timing, not a lack of effort. Seeing him for the first time in Addis felt like a gift and divine timing. Getting tickets wasn’t difficult, but for the curious, could the cost have been enough to justify not attending?

Mulatu’s legacy performance was part of CRAFT Addis, a 3-day creative conference celebrating the local creative economy and bringing together leaders from various fields. 

“CRAFT is a platform designed to intentionally stimulate Africa’s creative economy… by celebrating [Mulatu Astatke’s] legacy, we are showing the next generation that African creativity isn't just a local treasure—it is a global force,” said Shani Senbetta, COO of Zeleman, the Ethiopian communications, advertising, and production agency who organized the festival.

Anticipation for the concert began hours before the doors opened as Mulatu’s band could be heard during soundcheck from the auditorium lobby. The event was held in a new, state-of-the-art 2,500-seat auditorium, a change from his previous shows in his hometown.

The organizers were very adamant about preventing early arrivals and had staff stationed at each door. I had the privilege of being in the auditorium before the public, watching Mulatu and his band soundcheck. The band's energy was playful, but they were still tuning their instruments, making sure everything was set for Mulatu. Once he arrived for soundcheck, a swarm of videographers surrounded him, capturing behind-the-scenes- moments before the show, as he played a couple of notes on the vibraphone. As soon as the band and Mulatu cleared the stage, I took my seat a few rows from the stage.

When the doors opened, concert-goers rushed for the best seats. As the crowd slowly rolled in, I noticed a group of middle-aged friends debating whether the view was better in the aisle or the middle seats. There were a few solo attendees, who were clearly die-hard fans, and a few rows behind me was a group of pre-teenagers who were giggling and dancing. This was clearly a multi-generational show.

The excitement built as opening acts took the stage. Vocalists sang medleys in Amharic and English, blending blues, R&B, and reggae, including AFRIMA winner Betty G, former Jano Band member Dibekulu, and Zeleke Gessesse, founding member of Dallol Band.

When the band took the stage, the audience erupted. Mulatu was escorted on stage and began with "Zelesegna Dewell" from his latest album, Mulatu Plays Mulatu. The band played with precision and energy, as Mulatu joined on the vibraphone. Saxophonist and Musical Director James Arben played a captivating solo with remarkable breath control.

When Mulatu announced the second song, his most popular, “Yekermo Sew,” the audience went wild. He led with an ethereal vibraphone solo, beautifully weaving through the melody, accompanied by Ben Brown on drums and Richard Baker on percussion. As the song built up, the horns and string section joined. But the star was an explosive trumpet performance by Byron Wallen with a commanding tone. The show continued, and each song offered the band members an opportunity to shine. During the medley of “Kulun,” “Azmari,” and “Chik Chikka,” the cello player, Danny Keane, mimicked the Masinqo in a way I had never heard before. It was beautiful and absolutely breathtaking. Once the band joined in, the audience could be seen dancing in their seats. 

Honoring the Roots of Ethio-Jazz

On “Netsanet,” Thomas Herber on double bass enchanted the audience by mirroring the Begena's deeply moving sound. On “Way too Nice,” the percussionist improvised, threading Ethiopian melodies and Afro-Cuban rhythms. The vibe was electrifying. One guest ran down the auditorium stairs and returned to an empty seat, seemingly caught in a trance. As I looked back, I saw a full house jamming. Throughout the show, when Mulatu wasn’t on the vibraphone, he sat, nodding and smiling, thoroughly enjoying his band. The performance was both a celebration and a homecoming. The band’s improvisations felt like conversations with the audience. It looked like they were having fun.

After the show, Mulatu greeted fans, obliged with selfies, and indulged in conversations. A concert-goer shared, “It was a once-in-a-lifetime experience. I grew up listening to most of his music since my childhood, and hearing it live felt like a full circle moment for me.” It felt like I was witnessing history. The energy in the room was palpable. It was a stellar performance, a display of Mulatu as the master arranger and composer.

Mulatu was one of the first Ethiopian musicians to study music abroad and return to Addis Ababa. Upon his 1968 return, he joined the Ras Band led by Girma Beyene and began composing and arranging for prominent Ethiopian musicians, including Girma Beyene and Teshome Mitiku, developing his signature sound. “Yekermo Sew” was his first recording released in Addis in 1969. According to Ethiopian music connoisseur Sayem Osman, “During the heyday of the Ethiopian Music golden era, 1969-1975, Mulatu’s name as an arranger appears on 40 titles credited on recordings.” By the 1970s, he had arranged and composed music for Menelik Wossenachew, Tilahun Gessesse, Tesfamariam Kidane, and others. Mulatu’s music began to reach a broader audience.

It wasn’t until Francis Falceto’s Ethiopiques series (volume 4) that Mulatu’s Ethio-jazz received international recognition. Jim Jarmusch’s 2005 film, Broken Flowers, included tracks composed by Mulatu, which propelled Ethio-jazz to another stratosphere. For more than six decades, Mulatu has served as a cultural connector, linking Ethiopian music to the global music community. Internationally, Ethio-jazz is often synonymous with him, as he is widely recognized as its originator. With Ethio-jazz’s global reach established, Mulatu’s return to Addis, where his career began, holds deep cultural meaning.

In the 1960s and 1970s, jazz in Addis Ababa was not widely accessible. As Ethiopian music connoisseur Sayem Osman notes, “The local Addis Ababa live jazz scene was fairly new at the time. It was a very concentrated group of people who had access and were attending jazz shows.” At the time, the audience primarily consisted of the upper-middle class, those educated abroad, and a small circle of musicians. 

Today, the musical landscape in Addis has evolved with local jazz festivals, a diverse live music scene, and a range of venues. Mulatu has cemented his legacy through the African Jazz Village, a jazz club that hosts residencies by established jazz ensembles such as ASLI Band. You can find him on Mondays, in the crowd, sitting in his special chair, troubleshooting with the sound engineer to adjust balancing levels, enjoying the band. 

On rare occasions, Mulatu will be on stage with long-time friend Girma Beyene and the house band. On nights he’s there, he makes himself accessible and available to all who walk through those doors. Despite all of this, Ethio-jazz remains relatively niche and is unlikely to be familiar to the average Ethiopian unless one frequents specific venues or events.

As the music faded, the lights dimmed, and the crowd cleared, I couldn't help but wonder why local musicians weren't included in the performance. I also reflected on: What does it mean for Ethio-jazz to be celebrated at home yet remain a rare experience for so many? For those who attended, the evening was more than a concert. It was a unique opportunity to witness a living legend shape his legacy firsthand.

For Mulatu, legacy means honoring those who came before: “Africa has contributed to the world cultural movement, and we need to give respect to the ‘bush people’ for their contribution to the world.” And as he looks forward to his next chapter, he circles back to the roots of Ethiopian music and indigenous instruments, asking, “Who created the Krar, Masinko, Washint? Who is responsible for naming the kignit? What are their origins?” Finally, Mulatu states that to move forward, we must understand our musical foundations. His advice for students of Ethio-jazz is to do their due diligence : “study the greats who came before you, the creators of the instruments, and understand the origins of Ethiopian music.”