This blog is a compendium of my music writing throughout the years. I try to post updates about a month after first publication, but I'm often very behind - please bear with me!
First published in fRoots issue 378, December 2014
Jan Fairley Living Politics, Making Music: The Writings of Jan Fairley
Edited by Simon Frith, Stan Rijven and Ian Christie
Ashgate (218 pages)
In 2012, world music lost one of its greatest writers. Even before the term ‘world music’ was coined, Jan Fairley was writing about the music that she loved, regardless of their place or time. Living Politics, Making Music has been compiled from Fairley’s works spanning 28 years (1984 to 2012) and it serves as a great tribute.
Although this book is presented as an academic work (and with a price that would indicate the same – hardback copies are on sale for £100 or more), the collection features writings from popular journals, such as fRoots and Songlines, as well as more scholarly publications. Fairley’s writing is a good mix of the two – the more academic-leaning texts do not approach the dryness that other ethnomusicologists seem unable to escape, and the more popular articles contain an impressive depth in their brevity.
The book is divided into sections, for each of the areas Fairley covered most extensively: writings on Chile; discussions of ‘world music’; writings on Cuba, and a selection of artist interviews conducted for fRoots. The eclecticism of Fairley’s topics is also very impressive – although she mainly examines Latin American styles, she writes with equal authority, passion and imagination on topics of folk, classical or pop music, of the meanings of dance, the mechanics of radio or the workings of the music business.
This book isn’t just useful as a tribute to a great writer, it also genuinely works well along a theme. The chapters are compiled in a way that leads the reader through the most important points about music and politics in Latin America, and the role that world music and ethnomusicology can play in both. In the end, readers will no doubt be enlightened on the subjects that Fairley so eloquently explained, through a book that highlights, if it were needed, what a loss Jan’s was to the world music scene.
First published in fRoots issue 378, December 2014
Moussu T e lei Jovents Opérette
Le Chant du Monde/Manivette Records (2CD, 98 mins)
Well, if you need cheering up in these winter months, here’s a record for you!
The only major wave of Opérette Marseillaise lasted for just 20 years, from 1930 to 1950, but its influence is still felt in France, both within the arts and the romanticised images of Marseille and Provence. The music of these operettas was very distinct, taking as much influence from French folk styles as vaudeville jazz and opera. With Opérette, Moussu T e Lei Jovents cover twelve of the style’s classic tracks (with nine taken from the songbook of the Sarvil-Alibert-Scotto triumvirate).
Even before this venture, the band has had a varied repertoire: they perform and mix many styles, from psychedelic rock and reggae to trad jazz and country blues. In this album, they use influences from all over their past work – with 'Entre Marseille et Toulou' evoking an image of a Tom Waits nursery rhyme in French, and some lovely slide guitar giving 'Deux Grandes Yeux Noirs' a pseudo-country feel – yet somehow manage to stay very true to the original pieces. These originals are actually included here, on a bonus disc, performed by the legends of the 1930s. The band doesn’t suffer from the comparison though, the older pieces just serving to highlight the innovations of the new.
The album’s standout sound really comes from the mix of banjo and double bass (occasionally sousaphone), which together keep everything bouncing along and provide a base for Tatu to add his vocals – with which he achieves a brilliant era-specific quality. The result of all of this is a really fun and light-hearted album. It’s campy and it doesn’t take itself seriously, but at no expense to the musicianship that is clearly on show. Get this album (and its bonus disc) to be taken on a history of Opérette Marseillaise that will leave you with a big smile on your face.
Fado is the sound of Portugal. This music defines the country, both to outsiders and to the Portuguese themselves. It sounds ancient and earthy, but fado is no folk music – this is a music of the city, seeded in Afro-Brazilian culture but grown in the poorest areas of Lisbon, where the cultures of the Portuguese, Brazilians, Africans and Moors mixed freely. Fadistas sing of that most Portuguese of sentiments, saudade. The word has no English counterpart, but it brings to mind nostalgia – an aching, a longing. The topic of love is ever-present, of course, but fados also sing of the city, of its sea and its fisherman, of its tavernas and their customers. It is music of the people, and so it reflects the people, their lives and their histories. The style has had many shining stars – from Maria Severa at its very beginnings to the irreplaceable Queen of Fado, Amália Rodrigues. To that list must surely be added Mariza. She has brought this traditional style into the 21st century with the utmost sympathy, turning the earthy into the other-worldly and building upon Amália’s legacy by continuing fado’s spread into the worldwide consciousness.
Although born in Mozambique, Mariza grew up in the Mouraria district of Lisbon, one of the most important areas in the history of fado. Her parents ran a traditional taverna, exposing her to the true breadth of the style – workers and fishermen would start impromptu sessions during the week, and at the weekend, professional singers would come to perform. By the age of seven, Mariza was already singing in music houses across the city.
Mariza really has taken fado and made it her own – her ears face in all directions and she takes influence from the past, the present, and from all over the world. Whether her sound has a hint of country music, a breeze of morna or even a nod to pop, Mariza brings it all together to make something that could not be considered at all apart from fado, such is the depth of her understanding of the form. And this isn’t even mentioning her voice. Hundreds of words have been devoted to the beauty that emanates from Mariza’s mouth, and among them every conceivable superlative. But it’s something that defies definition and all but the most vague description. Simply, it is a voice that touches the soul. And it does so around the world – the Portuguese language no barrier. Mariza herself says “language is not a frontier, you don’t have to understand what I’m saying, because fados have the power of crossing the frontier and make you feel emotions.”
There are many lists that could signal Mariza’s position as one of the most important singers of her generation: her awards and honorifics (Commander of the Order of Prince Henry, Chevalier de l’Ordre des Arts et Lettres, countless ‘Best Artist’ and ‘Best Album’ awards from all over the world); her collaborators (Gilberto Gil, Cesária Évora, Lenny Kravitz, Sting, Jaques Morelenbaum, Tito Paris...); or the stages she has graced (Carnegie Hall, the Royal Albert Hall, the Sydney Opera House, the Hollywood Bowl...). But all of these are just clues, hints that this is an artist whose skill truly demands attention. Just 13 years after the release of her debut album (and 12 years since her first performance at WOMEX), we are delighted to be able to bring her to Santiago de Compostela to confer on her the highest artist honour that we can: the WOMEX Artist Award 14.
Musical excellence, popular and commercial success, innovation with a commitment to cultural roots, spreading the music of fado and the sonic world of Lusophonia to a global audience, and dedication to a musical vision without compromise: through her own art, Mariza shows us the epitome of fado, and by extension, the epitome of Portugal and its people.
“Mariza is clearly acknowledged as the top exponent of fado of the younger generation. In fact, she is as deeply loved by the Portuguese audiences as by her international audiences, which is something that hasn’t happened since the time of Amália.”
Rui Viera Nery, fado historian
“She is not only a great artist with a wide appeal, but she’s also articulate and informed about the music – which is why she was such a good subject for a documentary. As well as bringing a new and extensive audience to fado, she’s also inspired some excellent new songs written specially for her – like the song ‘Transparente’ about her Mozambican ancestry.”
Simon Broughton, Director, Mariza and the Story of Fado
“Mariza is one of Europe’s greatest singers, with an exquisite voice and a powerful stage presence to match. Her performances are infused with passion, warmth, and immense charm, taking Portugal’s urban blues, fado, to new heights.”
Lucy Duran, Presenter of the WOMEX 14 Artist Award
Photo: Mariza live at WOMEX 14, by Eric van Nieuwland.
They're a Colombian band, based in Belgium with members from France and Vietnam and they sing in Spanish, French, and sometimes a mix of the two (Francpañol?). Their music is no less eclectic. La Chiva Gantiva create their music from a base of traditional Afro-Colombian rhythms but from there they take the listener on a musical voyage, with ports in Latin music, Afrobeat, jazz, funk and hip-hop. Although they've only just released their second album in February 2014, their sound feels much more mature, without it losing any of its energy or letting over-thought get in the way of the fun. La Chiva Gantiva deal in dance, so don't be surprised if staying still is impossible.
Photo: A man on a mission - Mundial La Chiva Gantiva, by Michiel Bles. Used under licence CC BY-NC 2.0.
A bio-chemist, a comedian, a cinema expert: Kareyce Fotso is all three. But the reason we're all here is, of course, her music. Fotso takes in styles from her native Cameroon as well as from around the African continent to create her sound. Add in a healthy amount of blues and you get an often gentle music but one that is nevertheless full of power. Having studied under the wing of Cameroonian star Sally Nyolo, she has represented her country in arts events all over the world and has gone on to release two albums and collaborate with such artists as Habib Koite and Dobet Gnahore. Whether accompanying her warm, heartfelt vocals on acoustic guitar or sanza (thumb piano), or dancing, with her feet providing the percussion, Fotso's passion shines through to light up the whole stage.
First published in Songlines Magazine issue 104, November/December 2014.
Well, it started out at WOMAD. I was chatting with Songlines’ dear respected editor-in-chief, Simon Broughton, and we were both watching The Jolly Boys. Lovely, sunny mento music to dance away a balmy summer afternoon. Talking about the band, Simon mentioned that “they were veterans when I started” – and indeed, they’ve been going solidly for sixty years…not too shabby! It struck me as very odd, then, that they closed their set with a cover of Amy Winehouse’s ‘Rehab’. Their most recent bout of fame has come through their cover of this song on YouTube. Don’t get me wrong: they do a lovely version, it worked well within the set and the tune lent itself to mento better than I would have expected. But while it’s understandable that artists would play their most well-known piece at the end of their set, for a band with a history of more than 60 years’ worth of original Jamaican roots music, it seemed a bit of a shame that their ‘crowning achievement’ would be a cover of a British soul song that they recorded just a few years ago.
It got me thinking about the wider use of cover versions of popular Western songs within world music. When you set your mind to it, there are loads of them, from the popular to the obscure, and from the musically successful (such as Rachid Taha’s ‘Rock el Casbah’ and Fanfare Ciocărlia’s ‘Born to Be Wild’) to the frankly terrifying (Le Mystère des Voix Bulgares’ ‘Oh Susannah’ – see above), but that’s the same across all music. When covers are done well (or at least, marketed well), they can really help their artists edge towards the mainstream, if not necessarily break into it, as can be seen in the case of Rachid Taha and even projects such as Rhythms del Mundo, which saw Western pop acts record their own songs backed by Cuban musicians, including some of Buena Vista Social Club.
It’s natural that listeners gravitate towards what they already know, and nowadays with YouTube related videos, Spotify recommendations and Pandora Radio (in the US and the antipodes), it’s so much easier for someone who would perhaps not be regarded as part of the ‘traditional’ world music target audience to latch onto something ‘the same but different’, rather than a song title in a different language from a place they’ve never heard of. The usual argument is that it helps to broaden people’s tastes, and while I’m sure that that is true to some extent, I must ask, how often does it really work? How many people only know Rachid Taha as ‘that guy who did the Arabic version of The Clash’? Rhythms del Mundo was a commercial success, but did any of the Cuban musicians gain any popular recognition as a result of it? There will be many more people who are familiar only with the cover versions than those who delved further into the other music of these artists, or even further into the traditions from which they arose.
The problem here is that these covers risk turning into ‘click-bait’ – banking on the bizarreness of a Romanian brass band playing hard rock to grab the attention of some more listeners. It’s as if the performers are being presented in the same way as a freak show – marvelling at unfamiliarity rather than substance. A telling quote comes from Kenny Young, the mastermind of Rhythms del Mundo: “the idea came to me like a bolt: musicians from Buena Vista Social Club with Western artists and good songs”. Evidently, Cuban songs weren’t good enough.
Questions need to be asked of the intent behind these tracks and whose choice it was to perform them. If the artist chooses to cover a piece because they enjoy it or think they could do something interesting with it, well that’s one thing, but if the main motivation is to gain widespread attention, isn’t that rather a sad state of affairs?
Artists from world music genres should be allowed to use the market in any way they see fit, but if this is the case, it shows the wider flaw in the way music is marketed, and effectively encapsulates the struggles that world music deals with in this market. Nor can we really say that artists shouldn’t be using their music in such a way – after all, Western artists perform covers too (although they are rarely used in the same novelty way as ‘world’ covers are) and non-Western artists playing them isn’t new either. When Western pop music started to become popular around the world, local cover bands became incredibly widespread, and were the vehicles for many world music superstars’ formative experience and exposure. If we dictate what music ‘world’ artists should play, we risk forcing the musicians into the cul-de-sac of exotic curiosity, only allowing them to play music that we in the West seem ‘appropriate’ for their cultural background, exposing an underlying neo-colonial attitude. It’s all very muddy.
I think that overall, we have to draw the same unsatisfying conclusion that we seem to come up against when approaching anything to do with world music (including the ever-lasting debate over the term itself): it’s not great, but it’s probably what we’re going to have to put up with for the moment. While playing covers of Western popular music is one of the only ways that world music acts can gain any sort of mainstream recognition in the West, the artists and their marketeers will exploit this, and it’s very hard to blame them. All that can be done, for the moment at least, is to enjoy these covers for what they are – usually good, often fun and sometimes completely bizarre pieces of music – while we come up with the magical solution to unconditionally offer our favourite musicians from around the world the attention they deserve.
First published in Songlines Magazine issue 104, November/December 2014.
Adjiri Odametey Dzen
Africmelo Records (53 mins)
There are many projects that aim for a ‘pan-African’ sound; they usually rely on collaboration between different cultures. Not for Adjiri Odametey though – he does it all himself.
Ghanaian-born, Odametey’s instrumental prowess nevertheless extends across the continent, adding to his guitar and cool, deep voice, kora, balafon, mbira and kalimba and everything else on the album. His influences are equally eclectic: there’s glimpses of palmwine, Shona music, reggae, mbalax and bossa, and many tracks bring to mind the Acholi music of Geoffrey Oryema.
There’s something odd about the record, though. The production, while clean, is a bit strange here and there – there’s a distracting and recurring effect that clips Odametey’s words short, but nothing major. Maybe it’s the promotional materials and liner notes, which describe how Odametey uses ‘native African instruments’ to keep in touch with his roots, although how this decidedly pan-African sound helps with that I’m not sure.
Musically, Dzen is pleasant, although the blend of styles leaves a lot of the tracks sounding vaguely similar, meaning the album can feel a bit watered down. But if you enjoy your African music smooth and can ignore slightly awkward liner notes, this is one to try.
