Though Fela Kuti’s 1977 song ‘Sorrow Tears and Blood’ is sometimes interpreted as another commentary on the Kalakuta attacks, it was written in response to the Soweto Uprising in South Africa.

The chorus—“Them leave sorrow, tears, and blood / Them regular trademark”—is one of the catchiest in Fela’s discography. It’s still regularly quoted and sadly applies to many instances of brutality today. Before that chorus, there’s a comparatively quaint and melancholy keyboard-led section, which introduces the chord progressions later used by the horns. The horn section plays the main riff for the first time from 1:48, then the progression used much later in the song’s climax.

Lekan Animashaun solos on baritone saxophone from 4:43, playing off the main riff and reaching unexpected places. Animashaun, or Babi Ani, was capable of smoothly starting phrases on offbeats, and also jumping into new moods (as at 4:52) while still making a solo sound cohesive.

Tunde Williams then solos on trumpet (5:25). His phrases will sound surprisingly hesitant to anyone who first encounters the cut-down 10-minute version, and they contrast with the accompanying horns that start playing a boysterous riff from 5:44.

For this tune (and many of Fela’s), it’s worth revisiting Aaron Leitko’s astute observations of Fela’s music:

“The music is constantly moving and mutating, but is also conveys a sense of stasis. Unlike jazz, the songs aren’t shaped by chord changes or modulations, but the gradual accumulation and subtraction of melodic and rhythmic gestures. The bass might hover on a single note or riff for an entire song. The steady crack of the snare, which helps to give rock music its steady push and pull, is constantly shifted and shuffled around.”

The point about chord changes is particularly relevant to ‘Sorrow’. The song, even during the instrumental 8-minute opening, is built on repetitive guitar parts in C minor. The lack of chord changes and use of polyrhythmic guitars are two of the biggest similarites between Fela’s and James Brown’s music. 

One of Fela’s managers, Rikki Stein, discussed ‘Sorrow’ in a 2016 interview. Stein first met Fela in the back of a Mercedes van in the UK in the late ’70s. Somebody put on a cassette, and it was ‘Sorrow Tears and Blood’. It was Stein’s first time hearing Fela. He said, “Sometimes you hear something, and it just grabs you.”

The aforementioned shorter version was released on the Black President (1981) and The Best Of The Black President (1999) compilations and on reissues of the Sorrow album. You’ll find this length on streaming services, which also include The Best of the Black President 2 (2013) with the ‘(Original Extended Version)’. Labels were always worried about the length of Fela’s tunes, and in recent years a series of edits have been released, including a sub-7 minute version of ‘O.D.O.O.’, originally a 32-minute song.

The shorter versions of ‘Sorrow’ miss out on the horn solos and much of the anticipation. Intriguingly, the climax of the song is very different. In the original extended version, the horns’ final triumphant blast of the main riff arrives on the One at 14:19 after a keyboard-led interlude. In the shorter version, that keyboard interlude is cut, and the horns arrive on an offbeat at 7:54. Despite the precise (or imprecise) timing, that riff arriving after Fela’s final chorus and the repetitions of “ey-ya” makes for another electrifying moment.

Whether Fela approved this edit is unclear, but the practice of artificially rearranging in music wasn’t new. One of the biggest hits of fellow trailblazer James Brown’s career owed much to Ron Lenhoff, the engineer. Lenhoff sped up the recording of ‘Papa’s Got a Brand New Bag’ and cut it down from seven minutes to four.

The artwork for the reissues is different, too. Okanlawon Banjoko worked on both. The more recent version is typical of the classic ’70s Fela style, with bright colours and an array of portraits. In this case, depicted are civilians, police, and soldiers, with brutal images of beatings. Although the original artwork wasn’t as graphic, Fela wasn’t hiding anything in the lyrics.

Top image from Discogs.