If I wait for the singing before paying attention to a record, a long instrumental opening can feel like a delay. Fela Kuti’s Expensive Shit is a useful album for changing that habit. The band gives you something to follow before the words arrive.
There is a current reason to revisit it. An October 6 announcement schedules a new anniversary vinyl edition for November 20, 2026.[1] I would use the weeks before release to get familiar with the music, rather than let the packaging make the decision.
This is a listening guide to the album’s two pieces, not a review of the forthcoming pressing. You can try the exercises with a copy you already own or a licensed digital version. The aim is to reach the end of a side knowing what held your attention.
Start before the singer enters
In his March 2000 review, Pitchfork’s Paul Cooper describes the title track’s percussion, funk guitar, piano, and brass, with Fela’s vocal arriving about six minutes into the performance.[2] That makes the opening a substantial part of the composition. It is not a few seconds of introduction to skip.
For the first listen, choose one repeated part and stay with it. A guitar figure may be easier to follow than the entire percussion pattern. When another instrument enters, notice it without immediately abandoning the part you chose.
You do not need to name each instrument correctly to do this. Write “the short repeated figure underneath the horns” if that is what you can identify. The point is to recognize a part when your attention returns to it.
On a replay, ask a narrower question. Does the arrival of the voice change the repeated part, or does it change the way you hear a pattern that continues? Either answer gives you more to work with than waiting for a conventional verse to begin.
Let the title track’s story inform the listening
The title is connected to a confrontation with the police, not a random provocation. In its October 19 report on the reissues, Songlines recounts a 1974 attempt to frame Fela for cannabis possession, his swallowing the planted joint, and his subsequent evasion of the evidence-gathering attempt in custody.[4] Cooper’s review also recounts that story.[2]
Read that account before a second pass through the track. It supplies context for a performance that might otherwise register only as an extended dance groove. Listen for the shift from instrumental playing to an address involving words and responses.
I would keep the historical account beside the music without pretending that a short album note explains Nigeria’s military rule. Knowing the incident is a starting point. It does not make every line immediately clear, especially if you are unfamiliar with the language or references.
If you consult a lyric transcription or translation, check who supplied it before treating it as definitive. You can still follow the timing of vocal exchanges without guessing at a line’s meaning. Leave a question in your notes rather than turn an uncertain interpretation into a fact.
Give Water No Get Enemy its own attention
The album’s other piece is “Water No Get Enemy.” Cooper distinguishes its more philosophical subject from the title track’s confrontation with authority and describes its music as lighter.[2] That is a useful critical observation to test, not a requirement to hear the two pieces exactly as he did.
Start this track afresh instead of using it as background after the more provocative title. Choose whether to follow a recurring instrumental phrase or the relationship between the lead voice and the answering voices. Keep that choice for a few minutes before changing it.
Then compare the two pieces in ordinary language. Which opening made it easier to find a part you could follow? Did the arrival of the singing change your attention in the same way? You are comparing how the performances work for you, not trying to award a winner.
A short note is enough. “I want to replay the opening” tells you what to do next time. A borrowed description of the album’s importance does not tell you which part you actually want to hear again.
Listen for changes within repetition
Aaron Leitko’s October 2014 Pitchfork review of a Fela vinyl box set offers a useful explanation of the longer compositions. He describes music shaped by the addition and subtraction of rhythmic and melodic parts, rather than an emphasis on chord changes and conventional verses and choruses.[3] That gives the listener specific changes to notice.
Try making a rough sequence while a track plays. Note when you hear a new part, when a part drops away, or when attention shifts to a solo or voice. There is no need for a timestamp at every event. A few observations can help you find your way through a replay.
Do not mistake your first map for the arrangement itself. You may notice an instrument late even though it has been present for some time. On the next pass, listen for its earliest appearance and correct the note if necessary.
If concentration goes, finish one piece and stop. Listening to a whole side need not become a test of endurance. The useful distinction is between deciding where to stop and assuming that the music has not started because nobody is singing yet.
Separate the new package from the recording
Partisan’s official listing describes the November edition as gold nugget vinyl in a trifold jacket, with photographs, a dossier envelope, a poster, a print, and a newspaper clipping.[5] Those details explain the physical package. They do not establish the mastering source, pressing quality, or the condition of a copy that has not arrived.
The label calls it a “50th Anniversary” edition.[5] Keep that as the edition’s name rather than using it to calculate the album’s original year. Cooper identifies Expensive Shit as a 1975 album.[2] The release announcement dates this new edition to 2026.[1]
There is another format distinction worth checking when you search for the music. Cooper reviewed a CD pairing Expensive Shit with He Miss Road, another album.[2] The extra tracks discussed in that review are not additional pieces on the original two-track Expensive Shit program.
I would identify the two pieces first, then check the contents of any edition under consideration. A longer digital listing and a more elaborate jacket answer different questions. Neither makes the November LP necessary if an existing copy already gives you the listening experience you want.
Try one side tonight
Here is the session I would set aside:
- Find a licensed version of Expensive Shit. Check that you can distinguish its two tracks from any paired album or bonus material.
- Play the title track without skipping the instrumental opening. Follow one repeated part until the singing begins.
- Read the historical account cited above, then replay a passage with the vocal exchanges in mind. Mark anything you want explained rather than guessing.
- Listen to “Water No Get Enemy” separately. Make one note about how its opening or vocal entrance differs for you.
- Return to the piece you want to hear again. Check the new edition’s physical contents only after you know whether you want another copy.
If tonight is already spoken for, put one side in your vinyl listening queue and give it a specific evening. You do not have to investigate the whole catalog to begin.
Next time you cue the title track, choose one instrumental part as soon as you can hear it. Keep listening when Fela enters, and notice whether you can still follow it. You have started hearing the arrangement before its first sung line.
Sources
[2] Pitchfork: Expensive Shit/He Miss Road, reviewed by Paul Cooper, March 21, 2000
[3] Pitchfork: Fela Kuti’s seven-album vinyl box set, reviewed by Aaron Leitko, October 2, 2014
[5] Partisan Records: Expensive Shit 50th Anniversary, official format and packaging details
