Review of 46664 Nelson Mandela Concert (Various Artists)

Introduction

Held on November 29th 2003, ‘46664’ both publicises and commemorates Nelson Mandela and his campaign to raise global awareness of the AIDS epidemic in South Africa. The title comes from Mandela’s identity number when he was an inmate in Rodden Island prison where he cultivated his concerns of social awareness through civil disobedience and earned his near-mythic reputation as a charismatic and compassionate activist. The resulting concert is, as you might imagine, loaded with top acts and celebrity fans (eagle-eyed star-spotters will notice Oprah Winfrey and Richard Branson amongst the high-calibre admirers.) Running at a Band Aid-style mammoth length (well over 4 hours,) the line-up is a diverse selection of artists from around the world, from bits and pieces of senile mega-bands (U2, Queen), hip yoof acts (Beyoncé Knowles, Crazy Town) and obscure African artists (Baaba Maal, Angelique Kidjo.)

NOTE – This review encompasses only the content that appears on Disc 1 of the set, which was the only material available at the time of review. Apologies in advance for the subsequent incompleteness and bias that results and I redirect the reader to Rich Goodman’s comprehensive review of Disc 2 for the complete and no doubt schizophrenic overview.

Video

The concert and some of the extras are in anamorphic widescreen and there are no objectionable flaws.

Audio

The 5.1 mix doesn’t have the dynamism of DTS, but it does its job without serious problems.

Features

The Programme Tracks feature, which allows the user to manipulate the order of the performances is a nice idea, flawed by an ill-conceived design: it allows you to pick only five tracks and is further maligned by the fact that the tracks are only noted by number not name so you better have a good memory. Elsewhere there are some interviews with the stars, featurettes with Bono and Knowles chillin’ in the town-ships (marred by intermittently poor sound) which add depth and background to the proceedings. If anything, the abundance of behind the scenes docos is excessive, as features such as ‘Launching 46664’ document, with considerable tedium, a press conference attended largely by anonymous suits.

Conclusion

AIDS, poverty, political oppression, corporate greed, Western indifference. Sound depressing? Well, things start off with a morale-boosting ‘Crazy in Love’ booty-call from Bouncy Knowles and her throng of scantily-clad dancers “assisting” the proceedings and mobilizing political activism through the universal conduit of ripe buns and jiggling breasts. The results are about as discreet and tasteful as a USO show. If it seems particularly incongruous to begin a concert to popularize the plight of AIDS victims with a song that’s practically an anthem for promiscuous sexuality, the tone is soon brought back down to earth with a campaigning pledge for her “sisters” to protect themselves before segueing into an awkward ad-hoc chanting of Nelson Mandela’s eponymous prison number.

Good-cause staple Bob Geldof is up next to speechify, seeming to begrudge actually having to sing. His pipes are a bit worse for wear judging by ‘Redemption Song’ but as he scrapes through lines like “emancipate yourself from mental slavery” like a broken chainsaw, he provides them with the clunking delivery they deserve. Elsewhere the results are unenlightening: An eclectic version of ‘Wild World’ courtesy of Yusuf Islam (aka Cat Stevens) and Peter Gabriel, never quite gets off the ground. Bono and Beyoncé duet with some competitiveness and not much harmony on ‘American Prayer’ which soon drifts away from lyrics altogether into that familiar maudlin draft of ‘soulful’ warbling.

Much better are tender, enveloping ballads from the likes of Baaba Maal who quietly dominates the stage with an intimate, intense grace. If the native music feels like a fairly perfunctory gesture by the show’s programmers, it is also the most embracing, least self-righteous and most in-tune with the issues at the heart of the campaign. There’s the rousing sun-burst ‘Afrika’ by Angelique Kidjo and more funky uplift from walking wounded Yvonne Chaka Chaka and ‘Umqombothi’. Also, it’s not all bad from the stadium-straddling mega-stars: Bono manages to drain some life out of Joe Strummer’s ‘Long Walk to Freedom’; Johnny Clegg, Peter Gabriel and co. just about pull off ‘Asimbonanga’ and Jimmy Cliff steals the show with the closing three tracks with a commanding vocal performance.

Eventually, it’s speech time for the man himself. Mandela, frail under the evangelical praise of his guests still manages to invest his speech with some of his inherent charm and good humor. Queen go on to deliver some egregiously misguided camp bombast with a relentless medley suffused with a humanist undertow (and Mandela on guest vocals,) and it all seems like the perfect summary of the evening.

The overall tone is subdued, unfussy; the issues contemporary, the treatment seriously dated, with token temptations to the kids. Bar Beyoncé and Paul Oakenfold’s cronies the line-up is positively geriatric: Dave Stewart, Geldof, the non dead ones of Queen. The show is full of weird disconnects between its message and its consumption, the distancing mix of drive-time pop and tortured laments, and whilst the results are rarely as misguided as the opening act, the set-up is basically a mess masquerading as multi-cultural eclecticism. It’s without doubt a worthy cause in desperate need of the oxygen of publicity; but this is just a bland concert that mistakes dullness for dignity.