Sponsored message
Audience-funded nonprofit news
radio tower icon laist logo
Next Up:
0:00
0:00
Subscribe
  • Listen Now Playing Listen
NPR News

Ethiopian singer Muluken Melesse dies at 73

Ethiopian singer Muluken Melesse.
Ethiopian singer Muluken Melesse.
(
Muluken Melesse Family
)

Truth matters. Community matters. Your support makes both possible. LAist is one of the few places where news remains independent and free from political and corporate influence. Stand up for truth and for LAist. Make your tax-deductible donation now.

Listen 3:49
Listen to the Story

Renowned Ethiopian singer Muluken Melesse died on Tuesday in Washington, D.C., after a long illness, according to his family. He was 73 years old.

The vocalist rose to fame at a time of enormous political and social unrest in Ethiopia, as the 1974 Ethiopian Revolution gave way to a military dictatorship.

Muluken's songs from the 1970s and 80s were filled with love and longing for better times.

"He came through at a time when people were really down," said Sayem Osman, who has contributed articles about contemporary Ethiopian music to blogs and magazines. "He got to the core of people's hearts."

Muluken was born in the Gojjam province of Northern Ethiopia in 1951.

His mother died when he was young, and so he moved to the capital, Addis Ababa, to live with an uncle. But the arrangement didn't work out. Muluken wound up in an orphanage, where he studied singing with a visiting musician who taught lessons there.

Sponsored message

"And Muluken at that time got the [music] bug," Sayem said.

Muluken started performing in local clubs in the 1960s when he was barely a teenager, and eventually became a big star. Love songs like "Mewdeden Wededkut" ("I Love Being in Love"), "Hagerwa Wasamegena" ("She's from Wasamegena"), and "Nanu Nanu Neyi" ("Come Here, Girl") became hits.

"He's the king of the love songs for me," said Sayem. "It's all about how you treat a woman, how you see a woman."

Sayem said Muluken's popularity had a lot to do with the talented female lyricists he worked with on these songs, including Shewaleul Mengistu and Alem Tsehay Wodajo. "Who else but a woman would know how to be described or how to be looked upon?" said Sayem.

Muluken Melesse Muluken started performing in local clubs in the 1960s when he was barely a teenager.
Muluken Melesse Muluken started performing in local clubs in the 1960s when he was barely a teenager.
(
Muluken Melesse Family
)

But it was tough to be an artist in a country under military rule. "There was very heavy, heavy censorship," Sayem said.

Sponsored message

Many musicians left Ethiopia. Muluken stuck around for a while. He converted to Evangelical Christianity. Eventually, in 1984, he moved to the United States and settled in the Washington, D.C., area.

He continued performing groovy love songs for a time, before giving them up entirely in order to focus on his newfound faith.

"And that was it. He was done," said Sayem. "And he never performed this music ever again."

Instead, Muluken took to singing gospel songs at church events.

"He was a very good and sincere person, who loved people and feared God," said Muluken's widow, Mulu Kaipagyan, also a devoted Christian, in an online statement shared with NPR.

Even though Muluken turned his back on secular music during his later years, his early work has continued to influence younger generations of musicians.

Sponsored message

"He became like a conduit into getting even deeper into the traditional music of Ethiopia for me," said Ethiopian-American singer, songwriter and composer Meklit Hadero.

Muluken Melesse as a young vocalist.
Muluken Melesse as a young vocalist.
(
Muluken Melesse family
)

Meklit's 2014 version of the folk song "Kemekem" — which the singer describes as "a love song for the person with the perfect Afro" — was inspired by a version Muluken made famous decades ago.

"I felt such a link to him," she said. "And I will be so forever grateful to him."

Meklit added she will never be able to get enough of Muluken's singing.

"It has so much movement and vibrance in it. It's alive. You don't know where he's going to go. You just are kind of on a river following his tone and it's captivating," she said. "The whole human experience was contained within that voice."

Audio and digital story edited by Jennifer Vanasco; audio produced by Alejandra Marquez Janse.

Sponsored message

Copyright 2024 NPR. To see more, visit https://www.npr.org.

You come to LAist because you want independent reporting and trustworthy local information. Our newsroom doesn’t answer to shareholders looking to turn a profit. Instead, we answer to you and our connected community. We are free to tell the full truth, to hold power to account without fear or favor, and to follow facts wherever they lead. Our only loyalty is to our audiences and our mission: to inform, engage, and strengthen our community.

Right now, LAist has lost $1.7M in annual funding due to Congress clawing back money already approved. The support we receive from readers like you will determine how fully our newsroom can continue informing, serving, and strengthening Southern California.

If this story helped you today, please become a monthly member today to help sustain this mission. It just takes 1 minute to donate below.

Your tax-deductible donation keeps LAist independent and accessible to everyone.
Senior Vice President News, Editor in Chief

Make your tax-deductible donation today

A row of graphics payment types: Visa, MasterCard, Apple Pay and PayPal, and  below a lock with Secure Payment text to the right