There's no doubt that Franco was, in every sense of the word, a big man in African music. Sometimes weighing in at 300 pounds, he also earned his nickname as "The Sorcerer of the Guitar," making it sing like no one before, with effortless, fluid lines. Also an accomplished composer and vocalist, Francois Luambo Makiadi remains a towering figure even in death, probably the greatest the Congo (later Zaire) has ever produced, and as the leader of the long-running O.K. Jazz group, he was one of the fathers of the modern Congolese sound. Born in the rural village of Sona Bata, his family moved to the capital, Leopoldville, when he was still a baby. By the age of ten he was already the master of a homemade guitar in the Belgian colony. Within a few years he was exposed to both European music, from missionaries, and the Cuban sounds that began to spread like wildfire on the radio. He made his recording debut at 15 as part of the house band for the Loningisa label, where bandleader Henri Bowane dubbed him Franco, a name that would stick with him for the rest of his life. Although he was getting plenty of studio work he also formed a band, which debuted in 1955 at the OK Bar, whose name he took a year later, calling the band O.K. Jazz. Within a year they were challenging the established stars, Dr. Nico's African Jazz, as the Congo's top group. Like many musical heroes before and since, Franco had his brushes with authority throughout his career, and the first came in 1958 when he was jailed for a motoring offense; he was released to waiting crowds, who hailed him back. In 1960 the Congo gained independence, and in the ensuing unstable political climate, Franco and O.K. Jazz, with its constantly changing personnel, headed off to Belgium to record. By 1965, with President Mobutu in power, things became better, and the band was without doubt the top name in the country, playing the Festival of African Arts in the newly-renamed capital, Kinshasa, the following year. Franco, as well as being a bandleader, guitarist, singer, and writer, proved to be a more than adept businessman, forming an empire to control his music, from the record company to spin-off bands (at one point he had two versions of O.K. Jazz — a European one and a Zairean one). He didn't shy away from political issues on his songs, which resulted in his spending a few nights in jail several times when he displeased the authorities. Throughout the '60s and '70s, Franco and his band toured and recorded constantly, although they never managed to crack America; a brief 1983 jaunt there didn't work out as hoped. In 1980, Franco was named a Grand Maitre, a huge Zairean honor, and thus became firmly entrenched as part of the ruling clique in a country that was undergoing massive economic problems. His writing style changed dramatically, switching to patriotic praise songs and tributes to rich fans — a 180 degree turn from the younger man he had once been. He'd ballooned up in weight in his more mature years as well, although on-stage and in the studio he could still be an incandescent player and singer. By 1987, rumors were circulating that Franco was sick, and certainly he was much slimmer. There was, perhaps, a hint in his solo recording from that year "Attention Na SIDA" ("Beware of AIDS") — and the disease would kill him in 1989, sparking four days of national mourning in Zaire befitting a musical genius and one of the country's icons for over three decades. But he left a big legacy. Not only did he record hundreds of albums, where he and the band stretched out their material, but in O.K. Jazz he offered a launching pad for many artists, including Sam Mangwana, Papa Noel, Mose Fan Fan, and a host more. Ultimately, though, he had the vision to push the music forward, to have bands that could really play and develop the rumba style, and cope with it when it speeded up into soukous during the late '70s. And he was justifiably revered as a guitar god, even if he never became fully known in the West.
Biography of Franco (Luambo Makiadi, François). Extraordinary guitarist, band leader; born Sona Bata, Congo-Kinshasa, July 6, 1938; died Brussels, Oct. 12, 1989. Although born in his mother's home town, Franco grew up in colonial Léopoldville (today's Kinshasa), the capital of the Belgian Congo. The death of his railroad worker father in 1949 ended Franco's brief formal education and opened the door to a career in music. Suddenly deprived of her husband's income, Franco's mother eked out a living selling fried cakes in a local market, while Franco played his homemade guitar to attract customers. In the evenings Franco honed his musical skills with a slightly older (4 years), more experienced musician, Paul "Dewayon" Ebengo, who had a real guitar. Franco, Dewayon, and several other beginners eventually formed a group, called Watam, in 1950. They played weddings and funerals and, with the help of another of Franco's mentors, the more established musician Albert Luampasi, recorded a couple of their songs for the new recording studio, Ngoma. In 1953 Franco and Dewayon auditioned for popular guitarist Henri Bowane, who scouted talent for another new studio, Loningisa. On Bowane's recommendation studio owner Basile Papadimitriou signed them as session players. By employing musicians, who were paid salaries, provided with instruments, and encouraged to innovate, Loningisa and the other studios launched an extraordinary period of musical exchange and creativity from which would emerge several excellent bands, including Franco's O.K. Jazz, and the Congolese rumba itself. Young and uneducated, Franco deferred to others in the group when it came to matters of organization and business, but on the stage his youthful presence and guitar prowess attracted the spotlight. From almost the moment of its debut in 1956, O.K. Jazz was a hit, with Franco's guitar, swift and sonorous, at the forefront. He wrote many of the band's best early songs, including the famous "On Entre O.K., On Sort KO" (one enters okay and leaves kayoed—knocked out) and the infectious "Mousica Tellama," and earned the sobriquets "Franco de mi amor" (Franco my love, in Spanish) and "sorcerer of the guitar." With each change in the band's personnel Franco, by force of personality, virtuosity, and increasing seniority, edged closer to the positions of leadership. By 1967 he had become co-leader with vocalist Vicky Longomba, and when Vicky quit—perhaps pushed by Franco—in 1970, Franco arrived at the top. Franco endured an emotional setback around this time when his younger brother, Bavon Siongo "Bavon Marie-Marie," a popular musician in his own right with the band Négro Succès, died in a Kinshasa car crash. Under Franco's leadership, O.K. Jazz grew from combo to big band, and abetted by improvements in recording technology its songs expanded too. The leader himself, a man of voracious appetites, ballooned from skinny teen-aged phenom to portly middle age. He also grew closer to the country's autocrat, Mobutu Sese Seko. Franco had campaigned for Mobutu in the sham elections of 1970, and when Mobutu launched his authenticity program in 1971—changing the country's name to Zaire and ordering its citizens to adopt authentically African names—Franco and O.K. Jazz helped promote it. Franco also headed a new musicians union, UMUZA, that Mobutu had a hand in creating in 1973. Later that year, when Mobutu nationalized foreign-owned businesses, Franco was awarded the MAZADIS record pressing factory that had been established by the Belgian firm, Fonior. In 1974 he opened a Kinshasa night club called the Un-Deux-Trois (one-two-three) on land said to have been acquired from Mobutu's wife. Political connections and increasing wealth never appeared to separate Franco from the ordinary citizens who were his fans. He was a keen observer of life in his country; the foibles of his people provided fodder for his songs. Men were sometimes taken to task, but women more often bore the brunt of his satire. Several of his songs ran afoul of government sensors over the years. Three, "Hélène," "Jacky," and "Sous-Alimentation Sexuelle" (sexual malnourishment) from 1978, created such an uproar that the authorities jailed Franco and most members of the band for three weeks. Franco's guitar style evolved from the deft picking of single notes in the early days to the plucking of chords with thumb and forefinger as he matured. He also sang on many of his compositions, barking out the lyrics in a gruff baritone. Composing diminished as he juggled business ventures in the early to mid seventies—a drought alleviated by other members of the band—but he came back vigorously in the 1980s with a series of hits. "Lettre à Mr. Le Directeur Général" (1983), recorded with his rival Tabu Ley, appeared to criticize the governing regime, but not Mobutu himself. "Non" (1983) featured a memorable pairing of the voices of Franco and Madilu "System" Bialu. The Franco-Madilu duo produced the best of Franco's later years, including "Tu Vois?" (you see? 1984), "Mario" (1985), "La Vie des Hommes" (the life of men, 1986), and "Batela Makila na Ngai" (protect my blood, i.e. my children, also known as "Sadou," 1988). Franco also established several record labels during this period to disseminate the group's prodigious output. The musicians union honored Franco as Grand Maïtre (grand master) of Zairean song in 1980. Two years later he was presented a special Maracas d'Or, a Grammy-like award for Francophone Africa and Caribbean, for the body of his work. Franco married twice but was well known to be less than faithful. His promiscuity and, starting in 1987, dramatic loss of weight led to speculation that he had contracted AIDS. He always denied it and condemned the gossip in a song called "Les Rumeurs (Baiser ya Juda)" (the rumors, Judas kiss, 1988). A recording session with singer Sam Mangwana early in 1989 would be Franco's last. Later that year he died in a hospital in Belgium. Franco ranks among the great band leaders of the twentieth century, regardless of continent or country. Other musicians came and went and some came back again, but Franco remained the musical, spiritual, and from 1970, the business anchor of O.K. Jazz. By most accounts he was a good boss, who treated his musicians fairly. He was an excellent guitarist, composer, and arranger, and an exceptional judge of talent as well. O.K. Jazz grew and prospered under his direction and helped popularize the Congolese rumba far beyond the borders of central Africa. "THE WIZARD OF GUITAR"