Balafon story and AI

It was some time ago, in another stage in my life, that I walked into a – as I recall it – “third world-minded” shop in the town of Leyden in the Netherlands.

I did not live in Leyden, but it was so long ago (around 15 years ago?) that I do not even recall whether I lived in Amsterdam then already, or even still in my parental house in Nieuw Vennep: a village in the “busy” western Netherlands between Leyden and Amsterdam. I worked a period in Leyden, so it could be during a “break” at that job, during which I indeed used to walk through Leyden’s center with stores. The institute where I worked lacked an own “cantina”, dependent for that on university facilities.

One of my brothers also lived In Leyden, so it could otherwise be during a visit to him.

BALAFON FROM SENEGAL

Either way, I remember that in that store I was intrigued by a small balafon, with six bars/keys made of nice-looking brownish wood, tied with ropes in nice red, gold, and green colours, in sync with my other interests (Reggae, Rastafari). As in larger balafons, calabashes served as resonators.. for this small one two calabash gourds seemingly sufficed. I decided to buy it.

The total size was more than manageable: around 26 cm (10.2 inches) by 23 cm, and around 11 cm high.

Oddly enough I do not remember the “aftermath” of this purchase: did I come from my brother and bought that after my visit, on my way to Leyden’s train station? Did it fit well in my rucksack, I usually took along?

If during my job break.. did I keep it in my rucksack during final work hours, perhaps mentioned it to colleagues? I really can’t remember.

I do remember what I asked the man in (owning?) that shop – a seemingly middle-aged, greying Dutchman – : “where is that balafon from?”, I asked. “From Senegal”, he answered.

Strange how you, or at least I, often tend to remember “parts of events” , some “scenes” or “short conversations” instead of the whole event from beginning to end, a lot of it blurred to oblivion.

Anyway, after all those years, I still have that small balafon, as I am now living for over 20 years in Amsterdam, the Netherlands capital, a bigger city than Leyden, around 40 km Northeast of it. More spectacular, but perhaps less cozy or peaceful.

COMPOSITIONS

Though my house in Amsterdam has by now become similar to a “percussion museum”, with all the instruments I gathered over the years – more percussionists/percussion players I know have that – the balafon is more than a museum piece, as I regularly play (with) it - including sometimes brought it to jams to play live in clubs - , and used it in several of my recorded compositions, instrumental and vocal, often to add an African "feel”. The compositions I usually published on my YouTube channel.

This one was solely balafon-based:

On a recent song I released even “officially” for all main platforms (via TuneCore), called Truly Democratic, I used this balafon, as there was also a Djembe pattern in that song from Mali, bordering Senegal, where the balafon was from. Besides this nerdy “Mande African” connection, I also thought it fitted the overall sound and composition, moreover. It contrasted with high pitches the low-pitched djembe pattern.

Imagination running free and experimenting with sound are all very good in and for making music, but it’s good to remind ourselves that music develops within cultures, usually in communal/festive settings. The root and essence of “real” music remain more in that – communal culture -, than in the nowadays music recording, technical “blokes” who play around in a home studio, and have a computer with internet, in some Western city.

This cultural, "folk" roots is especially the case for traditional and acoustic instruments like the balafon, from traditional music in Western Africa.

Being since young an interest of mine, theoretically I knew something about Balafons – as African types of xylophones -, saw photos of it, and found out in what parts of Africa they were common.

I have a wider musical interest, including within African music, and at one point started to focus more on drum types, types of bells, and the balafon somewhat “drowned” in all this, and was sidelined..

Until.. some moments when I thought of a nice counterpoint to a drum (poly)rhythm in one of my compositions, and thought of the relatively high tones of my small balafon, creating a nice “overriding” melody.

Fun never done, in all creative freedom, but over all these years I still did not get to study more deeper the cultural heritage connected to the balafon, even if regularly recording with it.

Strange, because I over the years did study some drum types (African, Afro-Cuban), or other instruments I liked (the Udu vessel from Nigeria/Igboland, for instance).

So, time to fill these knowledge gaps about the Balafon.

ARTIFICIAL INTELLIGENCE (AI)

Wikipedia is almost inevitable as source, but nowadays you have also AI sources like ChapGPT or Grok, assembling information from other sources. Like a Google 2.0 or “Plus”, as it were.

Also an interesting way to test the worth of such AI sources.. predictably glorified by capitalist money sharks, but do we – as common folk – can have any lasting benefit of Artificial Intelligence?

I am weary of wider economic uses of AI, I admit, especially for “work replacement”: as “unquestioning following orders” is a wet dream of the wrong powerful people, those who like to dehumanize others for their benefit.

As a search engine I can see the value of AI, though.

WIKIPEDIA FIRST

Wikipedia – often quite reliable - gave some interesting information, also about the wider xylophone family. The term “balafon” is related to a language in the Mande-speaking areas of Western Africa, notably around Guinea, Mali, Senegal, and Eastward to Burkina Faso and Northern Ivory Coast. Beyond linguistic issues, similar xylophones are found elsewhere in Africa, with some differences in use, tuning, and construction, but often (not always) also with gourd/calabash resonators, Uganda (the Amadinda instrument), Mozambique, Zambia, are relatively a bit better known for balafon/xylophone traditions, but types of xylophones/balafons are found in several countries as yet unmentioned more, like Cameroon, Malawi, and Congo.

Interesting are the similarities and slight differences between these balafons and their use across Africa, the main shared characteristics being the playing style, with interlocking patterns of often a duo of players (with own differently tuned balafons often), and often calabash gourds as resonators. The keys are made of African hardwood – obviously – but rosewood seems the preferred type of wood, due to its strength and acoustic qualities. Rosewood is in recent times for these reasons, even starting to be used for the Spanish castanets in Spain (traditionally it was chestnut), and other, also more modern European/Western instruments.

SPIDERWEB SILK

Spiderweb silk strings are in balafons attached, with beewax, to the keys for a desired “buzzing” sound, preferred for most balafons in the Mande-speaking (”Guinea”) region, and other parts in West Africa (e.g. also for Cameroonian balafons/xylophones), but not in East Africa, lacking therefore much of that “buzzing” sound. According to my AI search in Ugandan xylophones banana fiber is instead sometimes used. In Zambia other “spider” products are used. Apparently, spiders as insects usually dwelled in gourds, triggering such use.

This is interesting, because it explains the sonic difference of the “bright” xylophones in East Africa (like Uganda), with the relatively more “buzzing” (spiderweb-silked) balafon sounds of Guinea or Mali.

OUTSIDE OF AFRICA

So, the continent of Africa has a rich balafon and xylophone tradition, but I also know of Asian xylophones, and Western ones. For instance, in the Netherlands, the xylophone is commonly used in basic music education at some schools, due to its seeming clarity.

Indonesian music I know often has traditionally some xylophones.

My, admittedly, small knowledge base, even more so outside of Africa, is however also a good starting point for AI searches. What I find most interesting – as a kind of “history buff” that I am – is the earliest origin of xylophones (wooden keys, tuned, played with sticks), and in what part of the world.

It turns out – as also Wikipedia describes – that the earliest xylophones were found in Southeast Asia, at least as early as 500 BC, in (indeed) Indonesia, but also mainland Southeast Asia (the Vietnam-Cambodia, and Thailand region).

Present-day xylophones in Thailand are known as “ranad” and also use calabash gourds as resonators as in Africa (with a resulting slight “nasal” sound), but without spiderweb silk, so less “buzzing”. Mostly bright sounds, therefore.

From Southeast Asia it spread to Africa via migrants, first via Madagascar, and explaining the strong presence in e.g. Mozambique. In Mozambique, the xylophones called “timbila’s” there, often played combined in orchestras, e.g. in the Chopi culture.

I further asked questions to AI about differences between African, Asian, and European xylophones, and was less surprised, as common notions about musical characteristics funnily seemed confirmed to me. Balafons in Africa were played with simultaneous polyrhythm and “interlocking” structures, often by various players at once, whereas the Indonesian or Thai xylophones fit in their more melodic cultures, though as I interestingly read: the Thai Tanad is equally used rhythmically (especially the lower notes), as, I cite from X’s AI searcher Grok: “In Thai music, the boundary between melody and rhythm is blurred, and the ranat family sits right in the middle of that overlap. They are essential for both defining the melodic line and driving the rhythmic pulse of the ensemble.”.

Another thing I did not know, although I of course used to focus more on African music, because of my love for rhythm and polyrhythm.

In Europe, the xylophone appeared much later, first in Bavaria (South Germany), in the Early 16th c., though steadily gaining a place in also orchestral music, and among classical composers like Camille Saint-Saëns, but also some pieces by e.g. Dmitri Shostakovich, Gustav Mahler, and others. Predictably, in European traditions, European music “harmony” laws applied, with a melodic and harmonic function first, and only a secondary rhythmic function.

To me, that made it not much different than guitars or piano’s, able to play the same melodies, only with a “wood-ringing” sound. Balafons intrigued me more, as I could fit it in my African-based compositions.

I was thus glad that I obtained that Senegalese, African balafon in that “exotic world stuff” store in Leyden – even if a small, six-key one: still nuff possibilities . I made good creative use of it, and so finding and acquiring it seemed "meant to be". Even if I don’t remember what I did the rest of that day or week..

I especially used it in “Mande Africa” referring compositions (such as my instrumental Bamako, named after Mali’s capital), as fitting its Senegalese origin.

Beyond that, however, I used my small balafon quite often in other African-influenced instrumentals (such as my vocal Soukous song Osilisi) I made, instrumental or not. The Congolese Soukous tends to have a driving, semi-rhythmic guitar, but I replaced that with a similar high, “bright” sound of the balafon.

I call some of my instrumentals “percussion instrumentals”, due to their main focus, but the balafon at times added some melody to such mainly rhythmic compositions of mine. I guess I also liked the “high” counterpoint to drum beats or lower bells.

I used it on some Reggae songs I made too (on Truly Democratic, for instance, as I said).

Enough about my own compositions for now, though. If interested, you can search on “Michel Conci” and Balafon (on YouTube), as for my percussion instrumentals, I tended to give instrument names in the Info text.

TOWARDS A CONCLUSION

In conclusion, I will focus on my knowledge, though, about the balafon/xylophone. I learned, now by searching through that modern “aid”(?) Artificial Intelligence, added to Google, Wikipedia, or some books I might have. Long overdue, in this year 2025, after having used my small balafons already in many of my (published!) compositions.

I did not really realize that the origins of the xylophone are in SouthEast Asia (back to BC), after that soon travelling to Africa, where it developed independently, according to own musical cultures. After all, many instruments travel: the South Spanish guitar (with Persian-Moorish antecedents), and its offshoots (e.g. the electric guitar) are best known, but also the (North Italian) violin, the Belgian-invented saxophone, the originally New Orleans/Jazz “drum kit” with cymbals, the Armenian-Turkish “cymbals” themselves, and in other posts on this blog I related how the Accordion and Harmonica (whether we want to, or not) originated in Germany.

This SE Asia to Africa migration is however another route than the usual “Western colonial” route, ending up influencing pop and Rock, only because Europeans or the US once could impose (or milder “bring”) their culture to e.g. to the Americas, or the whole world.

All these instruments are used in different ways in different cultures, adding the “soul” beyond mere material/technical aspects, the human creativity and natural playfulness, working out in different ways, within folk cultures.

Thus, the harmonica got used commonly in Blues, guitars rhythmically in Caribbean and African genres, according to African or African-derived norms, either “swing” based (as in Jazz or Blues, partly Reggae), or “straight rhythm”-based (as in e.g. Cuba, south Nigeria, and the Congo).

In the case of the xylophone, though, Europe had – for a welcome change – little to do with the spread from Southeast Asia to Africa: just from the people to the people, each in their own way. The xylophone has been unknown in European traditional music.

Or was it not?

TXALAPARTA

There is perhaps an exception in the Basque Txalaparta instrument, in Northern Spain, SW France. For all intents and purposes, this traditional Basque instruments is a “xylophone”. It consists of several wooden boards (often larger one, and around 6 or 8), differently tuned (though not very precise), and played with twos sticks, usually by two people.

Since some Basque traditions are very old (and some adapted influences from later), this Txalaparta-playing might well predate the arrival of the then “exotic” Xylophone in Germany, in the 16th c..

Even more interestingly, the type of playing has some commonalities with Balafon playing in Africa. “Without knowing it” a Basque musicologist assured (cultural colonial appropriation occurred often, after all, like the English “tea drinking”). Even polyrhythm and call-and –response patterns are shared between Basque Txalaparta and many African balafon traditions, and an overall rhythmic focus, perhaps unusual in wider Europe. The pentatonic scale is likewise – as in Africa – often used.

Only, traditionally no gourds are used as resonators among the Basques (traditionally ,anyway), and rhythmic structures on the Txalaparta are a bit different, less corporal and “hip-oriented”.

Musicologists relate these similarities to an older Neolithic origin, predating the arrival of later Indo-European peoples to Europe (the Basque speak an old, pre-Indo-European language), thus conserving some ancient polyrhythm aspects. Basque music, though, has quite some similarities with Celtic music (in NW Spain, Ireland, and elsewhere), also preserving older aspects, even if Celts result from mixtures with alter Indo-European migrants.

Genetically, the Basques have an ancient European origin (partly shared with some Celts), with hardly a connection to African roots. Even the Moorish period in Spain did not affect the Basques as much as other Spaniards. While also genetically, other Spaniards have overall more “Mediterranean” and “North African” DNA admixture, especially more to the South, so it’s not a “lost African tribe” in Spain, but, probably, shared human developments across the world, and similar inventions, causing the commonalities between Txalaparta and Balafon playing.

Humanity worldwide has as much similarities as differences, and the Basque Txalaparta had – broadly speaking - more or less the same functions (rhythmically) as African Balafons, and also a communal function, but a different one. In Basque culture, the Txalaparta was associated with “cider-making”, or other gatherings. A different climate zone as well, as the wood in Txalaparta tended long to be “chestnut” wood (later metal, recently also rosewood, because of international influences)..

Still.. a type of (wooden) xylophone, played for rhythmic and communal functions, is what the Basque Txalaparta shares with the African Balafons.

The mentioned “spiderweb silk” used in Africa to add a “buzz” to the sound of beaten keys is traditionally also absent from the Txalaparta, as are as said the calabash gourds. The latter is African.

Another thing I did not really know or realize. My small (Senegalese) balafon does not seem to have a strong “buzz”: it sounds bright and nasal (the calabash gourd effect), so I don’t think it has that added spiderweb silk and beewax.

I am not quite sure, and it is hard to check, without dismantling my Balafon too much.

I find it either way qua sound nice enough for compositions, adding a high-pitched, bright “ukulele”-like sound, but warmer, more African.

FINAL CONCLUSION

Now I learned more about the Balafon (I myself used in compositions), that I did not even know, and share this with readers of this post. In some artistic - or perhaps more: “cultural” or “spiritual” - sense I found this knowledge to be useful for me.

AI served me well in this case. I was surprised by the well-written summaries of AI answers to my question: in well-structured “human language” texts. This made me doubt if AI really did not involve human beings, or is there a bunch of writers/editors working behind the screen hired? Really all by machines and artificial?

It certainly added value to what I knew as search engines (like Google), and driven by our own curious questions, AI as an extended search engine could serve all humanity, rich or poor. Information gathering, extending our knowledge.

Rich capitalists, exploiters, money sharks, and even governments, want to go beyond this, I am afraid, drewling at “robot-creating” possibilities, for efficient (read: more profitable) production, creating the “robots” they always wanted, and first tried to make out of us humans. That would be less positive.

As a search engine, Artificial Intelligence, is enough, if it was up to me.

I worked in Leyden until around 2013 (for over 12 years), and went to Leyden a few times since.

Already in the later years after buying the Balafon in that store (near Leyden’;s central, wide Breestraat), I noticed the store had disappeared, noticing this unfortunately during one of my “break walks” in between my intensive “nose in books” library job at the KITLV institute I worked then. “What a pity”, I thought.

Yet, it is in this haphazard way, by chance, even in temporary stalls or stores, I bought many of my especially smaller percussion instruments, over the years.

A nice shaker with Marcus Garvey and pan-African colours on it (I also still use), I bought from a nice, dark-skinned Rastaman at a Cannabis Liberation festival in Amsterdam’s Westerpark, around 2003.

For a period, that typically Amsterdam (the “cool” side of Amsterdam, let’s say), and hippy-vibed festival was held, but stopped some years ago, as cannabis seemed liberated enough?

Other instruments I bought in other “fair trade” shops in the Netherlands, in other stalls in music/Reggae festivals (with e.g. African items) in Amsterdam, Spain, or elsewhere.

That makes my percussion collection all the more unique and personal. It’s not a common “one-big-music-shop” –thing, therefore showing more of original acoustic cultures. My balafon from Senegal is certainly part of that.

Twee boekrecensies in één: Hans Kaldenbach en Paulien Cornelisse

‘Doe maar gewoon: 99 tips voor het omgaan met Nederlanders’ is een boek(je) geschreven door “intercultureel adviseur” Hans Kaldenbach, eerst geschreven in 1994.

De titel suggereert een soort inleiding voor nieuwkomers, hoewel het dan mogelijk voor sommigen vertaald moet worden. Hij refereert ook naar Marokkanen, Turken, en Surinamers, en de verschillen tussen hun culturen en de Nederlandse, en wat in Nederland gebruikelijk is.

Inderdaad waren dat in 1994 (bij schrijven) al de grootste migrantengroepen in Nederland, maar het geldt uiteraard voor alle mensen van buitenlandse origine, zo te lezen. Uit Kaldenbach’s vergelijkingen lijkt hij vooral de wat exotischer buitenlander voor ogen te hebben, niet direct omliggende “Germaanse” landen, met veel meer culturele overeenkomsten (of we nu willen of niet).

Dit via 99 “tips” die eerder als thematische uitleglemma’s kunnen worden gezien.

Een klein boekske op zich, van 53 pagina’s.

PAULIEN CORNELISSE

Een ander boek dat ik al eerder had gelezen, werd geschreven door Paulien Cornelisse, en is mogelijk wat bekender: 'Taal is zeg maar echt mijn ding’, eerst geschreven in 2009, dus een tijdje later.

Het boek van Paulien Cornelisse is wat dikker dan Kaldenbach’s boek, met zo’n 229 pagina’s, en zelfs een heus register.

Ook hier: verschillende subonderwerpen/lemma’s, maar dan rond taalverschijnselen en –trends - in het moderne Nederlands.

Het boekje van Kaldenbach gaat dus over de Nederlandse “cultuur” (voor buitenlanders uitgelegd), en dat van Cornelisse over de Nederlandse “taal”.

Dat lijken twee verschillende dingen, maar uit studie van de antropologie blijkt dat in historische zin cultuur – en verschil erin - begon met taal, betekenis ontlenen via (eigen, nieuwe) metaforen. Het legt ook het praktische vast via symboliek.

Toen ik een keer de antropologie bestudeerde was dat gegeven, dat culturen met taal beginnen, iets wat ik niet wist, maar eigenlijk ook weer wel. Verhelderend, in ieder geval.

HANS KALDENBACH

Hans Kaldenbach beschrijft in ‘Doe maar gewoon’ Nederlandse gewoonten zoals op tijd komen – de klok wordt strak aangehouden – en andere haast clichématige zaken, die we wel vaker gehoord hebben, maar meestal ook wel (deels) ware cliché’s zijn: je kunt niet zomaar onaangekondigd op visite komen bij Nederlanders, noch automatisch mee-eten als op visite. Kinderen gaan vroeg en op tijd naar bed, en de omgangsvormen zijn wat ingehouden: men praat rustig, danst weinig. “Genieten lijkt wel een zonde”, stelt hij in een van de tips, dit relaterend aan een calvinistische invloed in Nederland.

Hij noemt ook positieve, minder saaie Nederlandse cliché’s als eerlijkheid, eerder schuld toegeven (vergeleken met? Buitenlanders hier?), eerder een persoonlijke mening geven (ik- versus “wij” cultuur), en beschrijft het begrip “gezelligheid”, soms samen vallend met een kopje koffie met een enkel koekje (misschien zelfs twee!).

Mogelijk is “gezellig” te vertalen naar andere talen – het Engelse “cozy” komt in de buurt – maar het is toch ook weer typisch Nederlands.

Ik herinner mij dat mijn Spaanse moeder dat woord vaak in Spaanse zinnen niet vertaalde, maar in Spaanse zinnen als leenwoord gebruikte: “era bien “gezellig” ahí dentro” (het was best wel gezellig daarbinnen).

CULTUUR EN TAAL

Zo zijn er meer taalgerelateerde dingen in Kaldenbach’s boekje, wijzend op de onvermijdelijke connectie tussen een cultuur en de bijbehorende taal.

Andersom zijn er om dezelfde reden ook culturele verwijzingen in het boek over taal van Cornelisse. Eigenlijk logisch, dus.

De Spaanse filosoof Miguel De Unamuno zei ooit: “Het ras is de taal..”. Hoewel ik het vaak met Unamuno eens ben, en hij veel zinnigs zei, was ik het hier minder mee eens. “Cultuur is de taal”, klopt al wat meer, denk ik zelf. "Ras" is als term te vaag.

Een belangrijk verschil tussen beide boeken is dat Kaldenbach spreekt over culturele gewoontes die al wat langer mee gaan, en wellicht bij jongere generaties zijn aan het veranderen, terwijl Cornelisse het vaker over huidige “taaltrends” heeft: juist die veranderingen dus, maar ook wel oudere uitdrukkingen hekelt.

Cornelisse doet dat leuk en grappig, en ik begrijp waarom het boek een bestseller werd. Van het gebruik van woorden als “gewoon”, de vage toevoeging ..”en alles”, gebruik van aanhalingstekens, voetbaltaal, “subtiel opscheppen”.. Grappig, want vaak herkenbaar om ons heen, op het werk, in ons sociale leven, of in de media.

GENERALISEREND

Kaldenbach heeft wat minder leuke humor, maar geeft wel wat interessante indrukken van de Nederlandse cultuur. Die herken ik vaak ook, maar niet altijd.

Mogelijk vanuit Nederlandse trots of verwantschap heeft Kaldenbach soms een te rooskleurig beeld van Nederlanders en hun gedrag, soms positief generaliserend, maar soms ook negatief generaliserend.

Hij stelt dat Nederlands “altijd” schuld zullen bekennen en excuses maken. Hij zet dit geniepig af tegen ander culturen (Marokkanen), die dus blijkbaar leugenachtiger en ontkennender zijn. Vooral dat “altijd” van Kaldenbach maakt het onzin. Hij verbindt dat aan een schuld-cultuur, versus een schaamte-cultuur, en een ik-cultuur, versus een wij-cultuur, maar is gewoon niet voor alle Nederlanders waar.

Kaldenbach bestudeerde ook weleens “hangjongeren”, wat mogelijk voor wat vertekening zorgde. Bij wetsoverteding zullen betrapte Marokkanen ontkennen en leugenachtig zijn, maar hetzelfde geldt voor Nederlandse misdaadplegers, of andere bedriegers en beroepsleugenaars (politici, verkopers). Die heb je onder elk volk, zoals ook de neiging om de schuld bij de ander en niet bij jezelf te leggen, vanuit een misplaatste trots, of het grote eigen ego.

PRATEN

“Je laat elkaar uitpraten” schijnt ook zoiets positiefs Nederlands te zijn, volgens Kaldenbach, en dat is wel iets meer waar, althans in formele gesprekken,of in talkshows op tv, en dergelijke. Ik zag ooit bij familie in Andalusië (Spanje) op tv een Spaanse talkshow waar er door elkaar heen “getetterd” werd, en men herhaaldelijk (tientallen keren) moest vragen “Me vas a dejar hablar?”, mag ik even uitspreken?.. Ook was het luider of zelfs “bozer”, de rustige, beheerste toon van Nederlanders ontbrak. Als iemand zijn stem teveel verheft, en men “boos” klinkt, in een Nederlands talkshow, wordt deze meestal het woord ontnomen, en de microfoon weg genomen of uitgeschakeld. In Spanje blijkbaar niet.

Ook dat “laten uitpraten” is echter generaliserend. Als Nederlanders je niet mogen, of wantrouwen, zullen ze in het sociale verkeer geen open gesprek tot stand laten komen, zoals overal, en je je zinnen niet af laten maken… een kinderachtige, en eigenlijk antipathieke, trek, - we zitten immers niet meer op de middelbare school -, maar “des mensch”.

Rustig, zonder stemverheffing, praten is volgens Kaldenbach hoe dan ook in het algemeen typisch Nederlands, wat ook wel nog steeds een beetje zo is, alhoewel verschillend per sociale groep (voetbalsupporters?, dronken feesters?).

Paulien Cornelisse heeft een grappig stuk in haar boek over zo’n uitzondering: een buurtgenoot van haar in Amsterdam: een fanatieke Ajax-fan die de gewoonte had om hard op straat “Joden!”, “Joden!” te roepen, wat nogal rabiaat anti-semtisch lijkt, als je niet weet dat Ajax-aanhangers zichzelf zo noemen.

Toch raar: stel dat een ander (wit) iemand “Chinezen!”, “Chinezen!” op straat roept. Dan vermoeden we toch een gevaarlijke, racistische frustratie bij deze persoon.

Hoe dan ook, en met welke intentie dan ook: niet alle Nederlanders praten altijd rustig en ingehouden, weet ik ook uit eigen ervaring.

Noodgedwongen grijpt Kaldenbach dus naar generalisaties, vooral vergelijkend met Marokkanen, Turken, Antillianen, en Surinamers. Het is meer sociologisch, of het nu altijd helemaal klopt, of niet.

Het leuke boek van Cornelisse is daarentegen meer psychologisch, en gedetailleerd op taal gericht, ook bij een-op-een interacties. Taalgericht, weliswaar, maar ook op dat detailniveau uit zich de cultuur van een land.

Veel van wat Cornelisse beschrijft is hoe mensen zich interessant of intellectueler proberen te maken met woordgebruik, zoals in de zinsnede “ik geloof niet in veel tv kijken”, versus “ik kijk niet zoveel tv”, of “het is een aanvaller, maar van een ander kaliber dan EEN Lionel Messi”, zoals in het Voetballiaans. Dat “een” geeft een analytisch tintje, even zeer als zeggen “ik geloof niet in..”. Dat beschrijft ze grappig.

OOGCONTACT

Niet alles herkende ik van wat Kaldenbach zei. Zo zouden Nederlanders elkaar langer en meer in de ogen kijken. Niet alleen onderschat hij daarmee man-vrouw verhoudingen en (ongewenste) seksuele spanning, maar ook in andere sociale contexten zijn ook veel Nederlanders wantrouwend, of, wat liever, te onzeker of verlegen, om oogcontact te maken, vooral in drukke steden, met etnische scheidslijnen.

Dat geldt uiteraard ook voor andere nationaliteiten en groepen, ook wat “geslotener” gemeenschappen als strengere moslims, bijvoorbeeld.

Het is geen halsmisdaad, maar sympathiek is vermijding van oogcontact natuurlijk nooit: iedereen wil “iemand die me ziet” om uit een songtekst van Doe Maar (song Radeloos) te citeren: het ontspant de relatie en sfeer, en opent mogelijkheden tot beschaafd, en wie weet zelfs inspirerend contact.

VERBONDENHEID

Dat Kaldenbach dat positieve in de ogen kijken als “typisch Nederlands” ziet (wat ik dus betwijfel) zal met de verliefdheid op eigen land – de “oer-connectie” via wortels met het eigen Nederlandse volk die hij voelt, te maken hebben. Die val je niet af, en verdedig je/praat je goed.

Ook dat is niet typisch Nederlands, maar ik merk wel dat ik (half Italiaans, half-Spaans, geboren in Nederland) die rotsvaste, eenduidige identificatie soms mis. Mijn ouders maakten grapjes over elkaars landen, met soms zelfs kritiek, en weer andere grapjes/kritiek over de Nederlandse buitenwereld.

Ook vaak grappig, maar verwarrend voor mij. Voor mijzelf probeer ik dan speels te combineren - laverend "tussen culturen in", maar het blijft ergens dubbel.

Germaanse volkeren als 't Nederlandse, zijn ook wat etnisch – en deels ook cultureel - “zuiverder” (sorry voor de dubieuze connotatie) dan “mijn” Mediterraanse landen Italië en Spanje, met veel meer historische etnische vermenging, en vooral in Spanje veelzijdig (Feniciërs, Basken, Kelten, Romeinen, Gothen, Berbers, Joden, zigeuners etc.). Dat “zuiverheid” denken wordt met zo’n historische mengelmoes lastiger.

Toen de Germanen naar Nederland kwamen woonden er al mensen (denk aan de pre-Saxische “hunebed” bouwers in Drenthe), maar het land is al met al relatief eenduidiger.

Die diepe verbondenheid met zijn Nederlandse roots schijnt door in Kaldenbach’s boek - tussen de regels door, zogezegd -, vooral in de (te) rooskleurige benadering van de Nederlandse volksaard, in vergelijking met andere culturen die daarmee negatief gekarakteriseerd worden: Nederlanders zijn eerlijker met meningen, maar ook in het schuld bekennen, terwijl die anderen (bijv. Marokkanen?)… liegend en bedriegend door het leven gaan?

Mogelijk is Kaldenbach’s oordeel vervormd door gesprekken met criminele Marokkaantjes – gepakt voor wetsovertreding - : die dus al verkeerd bezig waren. Die zijn niet per se representatief.

Kaldenbach verwart soms sociale positie met cultuur, en vergeet soms dat discriminatie bestaat. Nederlanders “durven te vragen naar promotie op hun werk”, stelt hij in een “tip”, terwijl mensen van buitenlandse afkomst in zo’n bedrijf dat niet durven, en door hard werken hopen promotie te maken.

Waarom zou dat nu zijn? Als je met de baas die “oer-connectie” deelt, tot hetzelfde volk behoort, dan ben je geen buitenstaander, maar een soort “insider”. Je kan wat meer maken en vragen.

Menig buitenlander - als buitenstaander - vreest vaak toch dat bij al teveel openlijke ambitie en uiting van een promotiewens in dat bedrijf, hij of zij als eerste weg moet bij een volgende ontslaggolf, juist vanwege teveel ambitie. Dat is dus meer sociaal dan cultureel.

Die subtiele discriminatie kennen Nederlanders in hun eigen land wat minder, en ontsnapte mogelijk ook de aandacht van Kaldenbach.

Ook Kaldenbach’s “tip” dat Nederlanders veel over het weer praten is dubieus. Dat is meer universeel, dan alleen typisch voor deze vochtige rivierdelta in NW Europa die Nederland heet. Ook in bijvoorbeeld het hete Andalusië in Zuid-Spanje, waar ik familie heb wonen, wordt over de hitte geklaagd, zelfs als niets nieuws onder de zon (ha!). Interessant feit: Zuidwest-Spanje - waar mijn "maternal roots" liggen - is formeel het warmste/heetste deel van gans Europa (over het jaar genomen).

Zoals Tom Waits terecht zong in zijn song Strange Weather: “Strangers talk only about the weather. All over the world, it’s the same..”

Andere “tips”, beschrijvingen van Nederlandse culturele gewoonten sneden wel wat meer hout, denk ik (precieze indeling van leven, ingehouden/rustig, geldgericht), in algemene, generaliserende zin dan.

Wat Cornelisse schrijft in ‘Taal is zeg maar echt mijn ding’ is óók vaak waar, maar meer op detailniveau, met meer psychologische diepgang. Soms lijken observaties futiel, maar toch grappig. Het steeds bredere gebruik van het oorspronkelijk existentiële woord “eigenlijk” in het Nederlands tot zoiets als: “ik was eigenlijk op zoek naar een krop sla”, in een groentewinkel.

Daar heeft ze veel leuke voorbeelden van, ook bij een woord als “toch”.

CALVINISTISCH

Ze vermoedt een calvinistische oorsprong veel gebruik van “toch”. In die protestantse interpretatie is de mens geboren met een erfzonde, als zondaar dus, die misschien door heel hard te werken/goed te doen mededogen van de Here God krijgt. In het katholicisme is er ook wel zoiets als een erfzonde, maar is het verder niet zo rigide. Hoe dan ook, vertelt Cornelisse, zegt dat “toch” dat we ondanks dat we zondaars zijn die altijd iets verplicht zijn in het calvinisme, we vandaag “toch” even gezellig en lekker zaten te eten, bijv.

Grappig en interessant, en elders verwijst ze ook naar een calvinistische invloed, zoals in relatie tot het woord “genieten”.

Daar is een parallel met het boekje van Kaldenbach, waarin hij het erin gestampte “genot is zondig” principe van het calvinisme/protestantisme noemt als verklaring van veel ingehouden cultureel gedrag van Nederlanders. Niet alleen bij praten, en feesten, maar ook qua kleding, eten, architectuur, etcetera.

Grappig genoeg zegt Cornelisse ongeveer hetzelfde in haar boek, ook in relatie tot “genieten", maar dan als taalkundig woord. Een citaat uit haar boek:

“Het probleem met Nederlanders en genieten is natuurlijk dat we er te veel over nadenken. We mogen pas met vakantie als we er eerst hard voor gewerkt hebben. Een beloning zonder dat daar eerst voor geleden is, past niet bij onze calvinistische mentaliteit.”

Om dezelfde reden wordt het woord “genieten” vaker diffuus en algemeen gebruikt, terwijl het in andere talen vaak in relatie tot iets is: “enjoying the concert”, bijv. Ook in het Spaans, weet ik “Disfrutar (genieten) DE (van).. iets.. Het genieten staat in het Nederlands daarentegen meer op zichzelf.

CONCLUSIE

Beide boeken zijn lezenswaardig, en in verschillende mate leerzaam. Bij Kaldenbach kwamen veel cliché’s langs, maar ook enkele dingen waar ik nog niet aan heb gedacht. Ook wel enkele dingen die niet leerzaam zijn, omdat ze niet waar zijn, of te simplistisch.

Deels is er ook patriottische “wishful thinking” over zijn geliefde eigen Nederlandse volk. Ik kan hem dat verwijten, ware het niet dat zoveel mensen in de wereld dat hebben. Als “intercultureel adviseur” moet je daar (van die etnische oer-connectie) echter ook los van/boven kunnen staan, vind ik.

Cornelisse behandelt deels schijnbaar futiele zaken als woordkeuze en taalgrapjes - en humoristisch - , maar is al met al psychologisch leerzamer, met - nog veel meer dan bij Kaldenbach - dingen die ik nog niet zo opmerkte (soms wel aanvoelde). Wat ze schreef over “subtiele zelfverheerlijking”, bijvoorbeeld, bij persoonlijke gesprekken, en meer verhulde egotripjes en onzekerheden via taalgebruik.

Daar zit een “spel” met taal in, dat weer dat “ingehoudene” en sobere van Nederlanders (volgens Kaldenbach) juist tegen spreekt, maar wel weer “calvinistisch” gematigd en taalgericht (de Schrift, de Bijbel), en soms ook "berekenend" qua taalgebruik, in plaats van echt artistiek.

Een Franse leraar die ik ooit had, zei dat Fransen hun taal breedsprakiger en poëtischer praten en schrijven, dan meer pragmatische en zakelijke Nederlanders met hun taal. Datzelfde “breedsprakige” geldt op een iets andere manier ook wel voor die landen van mijn ouders (Italiaans, Spaans).

Dat is misschien nog wel waar, Nederlands wordt niet (evenmin als andere Germaanse talen) al te snel poëtisch gebruikt, maar “spelen met taal” is er wel degelijk, waardoor Cornelisse ook zo’n leuk boek kon schrijven.

De mens is van nature een sociaal wezen, maar ook een “spelend” wezen, zeg ik altijd maar. Daarom zijn ook al die verschillende culturen in deze wereld ontstaan..

Imazigh and Zulu music compared: comparing extreme ends of Africa

I have focussed quite a lot during my life on “African music”. However, this requires specification, a specification I myself avoided to stay open-minded and flexible to learn.

DIASPORA

I specified over time, though. This relates in part to connections within the African Diaspora: the cultural survivals in the Americas. Ghana/Akan retentions in Jamaica, Congo retentions in Cuba, Brazil, Jamaica, and elsewhere, Yoruba retentions in Cuba and Trinidad, Senegambia-Guinea retentions in the US, Fon Ewe/Benin retentions in Haiti, etcetera etcetera.. All this of course living on in Black music genres like Blues, Funk, Reggae, Salsa, Samba, Calypso, Kompa, Merengue, Cumbia, and more.

In reality, in all these former colonies, slaves from different parts of Africa ended up, albeit with different percentages or emphasis.

Apart from the idea of cultural “survival” amid oppression and enslavement/dehumanization, I also liked the resulting cultural expressions that arose in the Caribbean, such as the music, but even beyond that: wider culture, language influences, food, and even spiritual movements, ranging from “nature-, dance-, and spirit-based” – like Vodou, Santería, Kumina – to Christian-based, yet Afro-centric reinterpretations (like Rastafari).

PERCUSSION

Strengthened by my later percussion activities, and by liking Afro-American music genres, I naturally began to study their “roots” in Africa, in Yoruba music, Igbo music, Congo music.. all places where many enslaved Africans in the West came from, leaving thus legacies to differing degrees.

I found that “Diaspora” connection interesting, triggering my interest. Through the Reggae and Rastafari connection, also Ethiopia and its music began to intrigue me, including the fact that big drums there are played usually within the churches.

I kept my mind open, because as a musical artist (as I see myself), I find all music in principle interesting, especially when “real”.. “Real” means here “from the folk”.

Most of my attention (in Africa), though, received “Forest Africa” (incl. Ghana, Nigeria, Benin, Congo a.o.), as anthropologist Robert Farris-Thompson described it, historically sources for many slaves, and less influenced by Islam than “Sahel” areas North of it.. more purely African, one can say, strongly percussive, and rhythmically intertwined like – indeed – a forest or jungle, and drums being important. I love that.

Yet.. the whole continent of Africa consists of more, and whether and how it differs also interested me more and more.

NORTH AFRICA

Over time, my interest for North Africa increased, but notably the Berber or (better) Imazigh people, whose culture seemed “pleasantly mysterious”, also as survival amid Arab invasions and dominance. The “Sahara desert setting” also attracted me, for some reason (contrast with “humid” and well-organized Netherlands?).

I heard snippets of Imazigh music, here and there, e.g. among Moroccans in the Netherlands, but the intriguing band Tinariwen, a band of Tuaregs from the Algeria/Mali Sahara dessert, mixing Imazigh music “nuff funky” with modern Western influences, or other African influences, really made me more interested in Tuareg and other Imazigh music. As a percussionist I was also interested in traditional musical instruments.

As the Imazigh mainly remain in Northern Africa, more North West (Morocco, Algeria), but with historical presence also in what is now Egypt, an interesting “other” part of Africa – music-wise – would be totally on the other side: namely the far South East of Africa.

ZULU MUSIC

The Zulu people are a Bantu-speaking people of about 12 million people, being the largest ethnicity in especially Eastern parts of the Republic of South Africa (KwaZulu-Natal).

My interest for them began with the anti-Apartheid struggle in my teens, but especially (when I was older) with the Paul Simon album Graceland. I was then already a Reggae fan, but still liked that Paul Simon album, with its groovy mix of US folk and country “feels” with South African musical vibes. Turns out that the musical influences on the album Graceland were mostly from Zulu music.

Still later, active in percussion, I began to wonder what type of percussion and drums were used in Zulu music. They same thing I asked myself about Imazigh music.

Now it’s time to compare these two extreme ends of Africa: “Zulu land” and “Imazigh land”..

Despite obvious differences while on the same continent, are there similarities, thus connecting truly the entire African continent musically?

IMAZIGH MUSIC

The Imazigh are mostly light(er)-skinned, speaking an Afro-Asiatic (Hamitic) language, and mostly Islamicized and Arab-influenced, but with an own pride and desire for cultural survival.

Fun fact: genetic, DNA research on me (and my mother) showed that most probably about 10% of my DNA (and even more of my Spanish mother’s) connect with Imazigh and even Tuareg (!) people in North Africa. Spain’s history is long and varied, with Mediterranean variety, and including nearby Northern Africa, Phoenicians, Carthaginians and Hannibal, and the Moors (many of whom were “Berbers”), besides less documented earlier strait crossings. There is thus even a personal connection in part of my DNA. There is another around 10% “Semitic” DNA in me - this study showed -, it seems too (also explainable). The rest (and most) of my DNA points more predictably at European-based pre-historic peoples like Basques, Veneti/Dinaric (from my NE Italian father’s side), and Celts, but still: I am also originally partly Imazigh/North African, DNA-wise.

This increased my interest, but I had to search a bit, to find specifics on what is Imazigh music (unmixed) really like?, what characterizes it? What percussion do they use?, for instance.

INSTRUMENTS

I soon found out that the Darbuka and Dumbek drums, also known in Northern Africa, are more associated with the Arab and Middle Eastern world. The Bendir frame drum, however, can be associated more with Amazigh culture. The Bendir drum – like a large tambourine without bells, but usually with a string attached to its back -, giving it its resonance – is regularly used as rhythmic time keeper among the various Imazigh groups, despite further differences among them.

Less known, though not absent, are drums of the other kind, like barrel-, goblet-, or bowl-shaped hand drums. The travelling Tuareg people know the Tendé or Tinde drums, made from mortar, with goatskin, interestingly played exclusively by women. Also interesting: it imitates the camel sound, or follow its walking cadence in part.
(see also: https://www.bbc.com/news/av/world-africa-63684118)

Men play other types of drum too among the Tuareg, though in part borrowed from elsewhere in Africa (the Mande-region “Djembe”, notably).

While speaking an Imazigh (Hamitic) language, the Tuareg over time mixed with Black Africans more to the South, originally slaves and serfs, also influencing of course culture.

On the “upper”, invading side – on the other hand – also the Arab and Islamic Darbuka/Darbuka drums – known to be used in Mesopotamia and Ancient Egypt - began being used by Imazigh and incorporated.

However, as indicated, the Imazigh – Tuareg and others – have own drums historically. They are less made of wood than in sub-Saharan Africa, due to the desert, Sahara surroundings, and more often of earthenware or mortar.. The goatskin is however a commonality with many other African drums.

A tambourine with bells is also often used in Imazigh music, or in some regions, as are a type of metal castanets, known from Gnawa culture in Southern Morocco. The Gnawa minority descend from (once enslaved) more Southern, dark-skinned Africans, but were influenced by Imazigh/Berbers and Arabs over time. The name “Gnawa” is said to derive from the word for “blacks” in the local Imazigh language (Southern Morocco).

The metal castanets thus can be a Imazigh influence, or – just as probable – a welcome borrowing by Imazigh from the more “polyrhythmic” Gnawa culture.

Crucially, string instruments like a lute, a single-string bow – the latter also played by women -, flutes among some Imazigh groups, and local variations. The northern Kabyle Berbers in Algeria – known as relatively more often “blonde” or European-looking – have a type of mandolin as another string instrument.

CHARACTERISTICS

Don’t let the blonde(r) appearance of some of those Algerian Kabyle Imazigh fool you, though. Kabyle music tends to use several types of drums, besides the “driving” Bendir frame drum and tambourine, and often hand clapping, adding to the syncopation and even aspects of “polyrhythm”. Singing and vocal styles – moreover – often includes typically African call-and-response patterns.

In comparison - after all - to Arab music -, Imazigh music is more polyrhythmic, but differing per region and genre, sometimes being more monorhythmic like Arab/Middle Eastern music.

Whether this is “originally” Imazigh is a bit harder to discern. Especially with nomadic peoples like the Tuareg, and some other more nomadic Imazigh, it was hard to carry along - as nomads - large musical instruments, therefore having to borrow elsewhere, from other cultures, as they travelled along. This is comparable to the Roma and Sinti (“Gypsies”) in Europe, adopting e.g. the Spanish guitar, or Hungarian fiddle.

Some sub-Saharan African influence on Imazigh musical structures is however certainly proven, in a general sense. Tuareg - and generally Imazigh - more to the South, often mixed racially with sub-Saharan (“Black”) Africans, creating subgroups. Yet, even in Northern Algeria there were once African slaves, and not just – as the Right-wing exaggeration goes – European/Christian ones, though these were there too.. there were even Asian captives as well on the Barbary Coast, as the Algerian Coast was called then. Geographically quite close to Spain.

The best-known European captive in that part of Algeria was by the way a Spaniard: Miguel de Cervantes, who later wrote the famous, innovative Don Quixot novel, and who worked as a slave for a few years in Algeria for a local. Recently (speaking September, 2025) a historical study appeared of this period in Cervantes’ life, in a multiracial environment then (NW Algeria region). Interesting, but I digress from this post’s theme..

Anyway, even Kabyle music in the far North of Algeria (and Africa!) thus could have received sub-Saharan influences.

ZULU MUSIC

Zulu music places large drums more in the forefront, notably the Ngoma (a common Bantu word, also known in e.g. Uganda for drum), being large double-sided drums, and a common one-sided smaller drum (called Isighubu), interrelating with it. This already shows the polyrhythmic intention and structures.

There are further several single-string, musical bows among the Zulu, tending to have semi-melodic functions, such as accompanying storytelling.

Musical bows – with one string - are very common in Southern Africa, also in Angola, as the roots of the Brazilian Berimbau bow. Some assume a deeper origin among the original San/Bushmen population of South Africa, known for their small stature, and languages with “clicks”. Bantus mixed with them, resulting in the Xhosa and Zulu cultures. These Bushmen indeed lived as hunters-gatherers, as many now know because of the “international hit movie ‘The Gods Must Be Crazy’.

Vocal and singing patterns in Zulu music are often complex, with interlocking call-and-response but also harmony, adding to a polyrhythmic complexity.

Further, flute and other reed instruments, and later guitars are used in Zulu traditional music. Typically, nonetheless, the drum leads the music, if it’s not only vocal, as in some Zulu genres, with nicely interlocking harmony and polyrhythm, even without instruments. We know that from Paul Simon’s collab with Ladysmith Black Mambazo in the song Homeless.

DANCE

It depends on folk music’s function in both cultures (rituals, context), but largely the traditional music of Imazigh and Zulus alike are dance-oriented. As in fact most folk music of the world.

The driving (Bendir-led or otherwise) rhythms in a lot of traditional Imazigh music, - with syncopatic elements, reminding of the “swing” idea – makes a more African, hypnotizing,and natural way of dancing more easy when compared to e.g. Arab music, or a part of European folk music. Dances comparable to belly dancing, and even hip swaying and rotations, are common at Imazigh dances, despite the Islamic inhibitions regarding “suggestive female movements”.

In the Arab world – by the way – belly dancing occurred, but that was done by female slaves, for their owner/master, often also sex slaves. Islam’s sex segregation directive caused that partly.

The more polyrhythmic nature of traditional Zulu music, make even more complex, acrobatic dance patterns, more the norm among the Zulu.

A noteworthy cultural difference – increasing over time – is the gender separation in North Africa, influenced by Islam, even on “dance” events. In Zulu culture (as in most other Bantu cultures) genders mix on many occasions, creating in addition room for vocal variation in male and female voices. Some Imazigh music and singing has this too, but it decreased over time, due to Islamic cultural norms, as mentioned, sex/gender segregation in social spheres. This became over time generally upheld even in “looser” Islamic countries like Morocco and Algeria, though with differing degrees of strictness.

BACK TO DIASPORA AFRICA

Returning mentally to the parts of Africa I have studied the music already of before (Central and West Africa, “forest Africa”) more extensively, I should be able to note parallels and make (hopefully sensible) comparisons.

Feeling the grooves in Imazigh music reminded me of the “swing” aspect in music from the Sahel area: “Griot Africa”, as Robert Farris-Thompson describes it, often Mande-speaking: Senegambia, Guinea, Southern Mali, Northern Ivory Coast, and Northern Ghana.

Indeed also regions that were partly Islamized, and with historical connections with Imazigh people. In parts of Northern Mali the Tuareg Imazigh tend to live and roam, while South Mali is Black African, Mande-speaking, with a rich “Djembe” (and Kora) culture, for instance.

In several parts of Mali, often at marketplaces, there is interaction between different groups of Malinese from North and South, with people like Tuareg (or “men in blue”) and e.g. Bambara people interrelating.

SWING

The “swing” aspect in Mande/Guinea music, stemming from string-instrument like the Kora, mixed with rhythmic notions of syncope, has clearly echoes in Imazigh music.

Also “string-based”, as even without e.g. a lute, the string at the back of the Bendir frame drum – I have one , by the way – has a “stringy”, humming resonance, adding a “swing”, or shuffle, feel, even when the rest is monorhythmic or straight.

When several drums, percussion instruments, or clapping become involved, Imazigh music even becomes to a degree “polyrhythmic”, closer to sub-Saharan African traditions, but with an own accent, and less “multiple independent rhythms” as in “pure” polyrhythm, but hinting at it with strong syncopation.

INTERLOCKING

Predictably, maybe, Zulu traditional music has much similarity with Bantu music, especially in the Southern half of the African continent, tending strongly toward polyrhythm and rhythmic interrelations shaping the movements, “straighter” interlocking rhythms – with a layered groove - and less a string-based “gliding” feel that mostly characterize Imazigh rhythms. The latter nonetheless knows some rhythmic interplay toward syncope, and “swing”, or even flirting with polyrhythm in some genres.

What I found most interesting to conclude from all this, is that Imazigh music is far more “African” than Arab music, despite the Imazigh lighter skin when compared to sub-Saharan Africans -, and even the occurrence of reddish and blond(ish) hair among some Northern Berbers in parts of Algeria and Morocco, though Imazigh/”Berber” genetics (DNA) are mostly non-European. In turn, this Imazigh DNA ended up in parts of Spain, Portugal, and even in parts of Sardinia and Sicily.. and as I already mentioned, also in my South Spanish mother’s DNA, thus also mine.

Perhaps due to long, historical cohabitation on the African continent with Black Africans, adaptation to the natural environment, or perhaps the retention of “free, dance-focused culture” from pre-Islamic times, there are similarities between Imazigh and Zulu musical cultures. Despite the long distance between them.

Call-and-response is used in singing (and instrumentation) by both Amazigh and Zulu (more complex among the latter), and rhythm drives the music, with some “layers”, making percussion and drums crucial in the music, and adding syncopation to monorhythms. This is originally absent from monorhythmic, string-based Arab music, for instance. In some European folk music, something like “syncope” (around the main beats) is present in some folk genres (parts of Flamenco, some Celtic folk genres, parts of Balkan), but “polyrhythm” as such (independent, simultaneous rhythms interlocking), as well as “call-and-response” in the strict sense, are originally absent in European folk music, or in Arab music. That's African.

MAIN CONCLUSION

This I can conclude from this comparison between musical cultures of two indigenous people on extreme ends of Africa (NW Africa/Maghreb, and Eastern South Africa)..

Imazigh are much more culturally African than Arabs, which shows in the music, as well as in the greater role of women in their societies, though this was limited with increased Islamic strictness. The Imazigh identity is, however, still upheld among especially many Moroccans and Algerians as counterpoint to the dominant Arabs (having mixed also with Imazigh) risking a second-class position for the after all original inhabitants the Imazigh, even in (originally) “Imazigh” countries Morocco and Algeria. Many mix that resistance and asserted Imazigh identity, somewhat uneasy with a simultaneous Islamic identity as faith.

That spirit or resistance through identity is also shared with the Zulu in South Africa, after all having been also colonized by Europeans, and later also made second-class citizens and even near-dehumanized in their own country, during the White Apartheid regime (up to 1990).

That spirit gives both their music more “soul”. It also seemed to continue in the more modern “pop” styles that developed later in both areas: Raï in Algeria (Oran) – that received Imazigh influences -, and e.g. the Zulu-influenced Maskandi genre in South Africa, and in the work of several current artists.

NOI, Garvey, and beyond

Funny how things go..

As I got into Reggae music around my 11th year, and since then learned more about the associated Jamaican culture, “Black Power” as such I first encountered in Marcus Garvey and Reggae lyrics.

Yet, around the same time (Late 1980s), more US influence came through television and mass media, in the Netherlands. Hearing about Malcolm X, the Nation of Islam, Minister Farrakhan, and movements where Rappers belonged to (5% nation), I initially thought they were “trying to imitate” Jamaicans, or – nicer said – “were inspired”, by e.g. Marcus Garvey, or even Rastafari.

I was even right, to a degree. The influence of Marcus Garvey – active in the US since 1917 into the 1920s -, and his movement, were present in all these US Black Power movements, including the Nation Of Islam (NOI).

Yet, they worked out in different ways. As I later focused on Malcolm X as person, the Nation Of Islam became a backdrop, though I still learned something about the NOI, and its ideas.

There were also differences with Garvey, I noticed. For one, Garvey was not a Muslim, but neither (as a Christian) religiously aimed: his goals were social and political, keeping religion more in the private sphere, though still criticizing “pro-White” religious teachings in general.

Beyond this: what are the differences between the Nation Of Islam, and e.g. Rastafari, why ‘Islam” , Black nationalism, etcetera?

A good excuse, moreover, for me to study the Nation Of Islam more in detail, for comparing, with what I have studied already in detail: connecting knowledge I acquired, personal reflections.. the synthesizing essence of the “essay”, in short.. While learning myself along the way..

NATION OF ISLAM

My knowledge about the US organization the Nation Of Islam (henceforth: NOI) was – to be honest – “medium”, and here and there sketchy. Reading more and more about it, I saw more dimensions: “zooming out” or “bird’s view”, to put it in either digital or pre-digital terms. I could compare better with what I have read about and by Marcus Garvey, and general history.

Tellingly, the aspects in which the NOI differed from “mainstream Islam” were aspects that shared similarities with Garvey and Rastafari, but also with ancient African folk beliefs. While the Islam is seriously adhered to, and even seen as the “original religion of Black people” (which – IMHO – is at least a debatable claim, though some want to believe it), at the same time the NOI’s Islam serves similarly as Catholicism once did among Yoruba African slaves in Cuba and Brazil in colonial times, simply as a mask and “front” to hide own beliefs.

STORIES

Own interpretations, deviations are all parts of “story telling”, and history of mankind has taught us that a “good story” can connect masses of people to external, then internalized, goals. For better or worse, certainly. The Bible being a prime example. Also Fascism, Communism, and other totalitarian regimes, – after all - had stories that convinced many, to bind the populace.

There’s a lot of quite imaginative “storytelling” within the NOI I noticed, with several story lines, creatively describing the history of mankind and races. Originally, in the NOI’s teachings, Whites were a race created by an evil scientist on a Greek island named Patmos (strange detail..), lacking all virtues of the original (Black) man, and having only vices and wickedness in them, therefore at one time banned by the supreme being to Western Asia (actual Europe) to live in caves. This view was later sidelined, but was also what Malcolm X was taught, as he entered the NOI: whites were a race of devils.

Absurd?, maybe; racist?, probably; vindictive?, certainly.. but still a creative and powerful story, in some sense. Of course, more nonsensical stories can be found within the NOI, as well as some more positive and plausible ones. In essence, that is the same with the Bible. The strength of Christianity lied in the engaging story: it convinced, and was well-written. The Bible had good, thrilling “plots”.. But.. is what the Bible relates all true, did it really happen? Some scientists doubt that, even beyond the obvious absurdities like Moses splitting a sea, or Jesus walking on water. It is still a good story/plot, and culturally interesting. Moreover: it is of course about the “symbolic” value, the metaphorical meanings, not to be taken literally. Some fools do, though (in all religions).

The latter also applies to the NOI, in my opinion, interesting cultural response through stories/storytelling, but in this case a clearer symbolic, and “social” role and response, namely to the racist conditions and inequalities disfavoring Blacks in the US. That gives it a dynamic, “activist” vibe. One of self-protection, making it more understandable, and – in a sense – more benign.

MAINSTREAM ISLAM

The interesting “off-shoot” of the NOI, “the Five-Percent Nation”, founded in 1964, in the 1970s growing among Black youths, was also nominally Muslim, but strayed even further from mainstream Islam as such. Its (the Five-Percent Nation's, as well as the NOI's) views of Black self-sufficiency and pride are echoes of Garvey, whereas their idea that each Black man is a god, goes toward the Rastafari concept of “I and I”, e.g. God/Jah “within man” (inna man).

Likewise, the NOI has a different view on the “afterlife” than in mainstream Islam, emphasizing more to live good today, with Rastafari adherents having similar ideas, though probably earlier in time. This allows a more activist stance during one’s actual lifetime, more seeking one’s rights while living.

This sets Islam as older (and Arab) religion apart from such later emancipation movements. Islam began as an ideological religious movement among some Arabs on the Arabian peninsula, and became a spreading, conquering religion.

The Garvey movement and NOI were mostly occupied with finding and defending oneself, one’s own group. Seemingly, the Islam served to give “structure” to such goals, for the NOI, while Marcus Garvey kept religion out of his movement, though considering himself a Christian (first Methodist, later Catholic).

Religion is essentially “power”, else it would be a loose spiritual movement, so adding Islam to Black Power probably provided that power base.

For the same reason, though more gradual, the Early Rastafari adherents, largely fitted their views in a Biblical context, and Christian world view, as common in Protestant-dominated Jamaica. A sense of stable power.

Garvey, however, focused on economic organization and international organization of all Black people as source of “stable power” for the UNIA movement. Though not just that: Garvey left religion out of it, but origins certainly not: Africa as Black motherland became equally a (desired) power base, once freed from colonialism.

Therein lies the crux of the difference between the NOI in the US, and the Garvey movement, of which Rastafari can be seen as a branch: the role of Africa, the motherland/continent of origin.

BIGGER WHOLE

Marcus Garvey famously and eloquently said: “ I won’t give up a continent for an island” (meaning Africa for Jamaica). This was later quoted in some Reggae song lyrics by Rastas.

This answers to common human, psychological needs to belong to “bigger wholes”, which is healthy when it is natural. Unhealthy when it is fiction, and only effective for so long, crippling over time, as it alienates someone from oneself.

That psychological need for “a bigger whole” was among the NOI answered by the Islamic faith, after abandoning the “repatriation goal” to Africa, while recognizing the African roots as (merely?) “something of the past”. That is less natural, and not even historically totally correct. Islam originated on the Arabian peninsula by Arabs, then spreading with armies conquering toward North Africa, further into Asia, and even reaching parts of Europe (Iberia, Sardinia, and Sicily).

The connection with Africa – of Islam - is therefore more indirect, as the North African countries “converted” to Islam, were before that Christian, without even European imposition.

This is a fictional element that need not be destructive for a movement, but is nonetheless distracting from truth. Only focusing on the truth secures a strong, lasting foundation.

Eventually, the NOI “gave up on the continent Africa”, as in its pleading for separatism, and a separate homeland for African Americans, it meant (even explicitly stated) a separate state for Black people “on American soil”.

Another key difference, thus, with Garvey’s UNIA movement, which kept aiming at repatriation to an independent Africa. The Rastafari movement in Jamaica, one of the heirs to the Garvey movement maintained that.

AFRICA

Is one Black Power movement therefore better than the other? Mutabaruka describes Rastafari as a “Black power movement with a theological nucleus”. In itself true, but when comparing – as I do now – with the NOI, a word should be added: “with an OWN theological nucleus ”, namely on Haile Selassie – many Rastas consider divine - and Ethiopia, while reinterpreting the Bible. NOI copied an Arabic religion, adapting it also a bit to its own needs, but maintaining its tenets and banner.

The abandonment of a focus on Africa in the NOI started quite early in the movement. The NOI claims that the early precursors of the NOI were the enslaved Africans who were Muslims in parts of the US. A reference to Africa, where parts in the wider Sahel region – from Senegambia to Northern Nigeria -, were Islamicized earlier by Islamic invaders, mixed in within the local culture. This occurred before English, French, Portuguese, Dutch, and so on, got their slaves from there.

While it is true that Africans from those Islamic areas ended up in the US – even relatively more than in Latin America -, they were still not the majority among enslaved Africans in the US, who mostly had other “religions”, “beliefs”, spirit/nature religions before Christianized. The Mississippi Delta was a region in the US South where relatively many “Senegambia/Guinea/Sahel” Africans ended up, having an interesting echo in the Blues, and guitar playing (and the swing/shuffle feel).

Another caveat is that – as many who travelled through different parts of the Islamic world can tell you – that Islam in African countries like Guinea, Senegal, Mali, parts of Ivory Coast, northern Nigeria, Cameroun, parts of Burkina Faso, etcetera, is evidently an own, local, “free” interpretation of the Islam, especially when analyzed beyond the superficial “main pillars”, upheld there too (5 times prayer a day, no alcohol, women dressed with veils and modestly, no public nudity/sexuality, fasting, diet, etcetera). Islam is in Guinee/Sahel Africa mixed with own African traditions. Also among, e.g. the Hausa (a quite numerous ethnic group, also in neighbouring Niger) in northern Nigeria, although a violent Islamist group like the Boko Haram seeks to enforce a stricter Islam.

While – musically - the Mississippi delta Blues, and “swing” in other US Black music styles echo and reflect the heritage that Africanization of Islamic influences (like e.g. “string” instruments) of the rich Guinea region “griot” (travelling musicians) tradition, the Nation Of Islam (NOI) apparently did not attempt such a cultural Africanization, even over time leaning more to the “Orthodox Islam”, the original “Arab model”, so to speak. This also came to the fore in the Malcolm X movie by Spike Lee.

AFRICAN CULTURE

What about more historically accurate alternatives, one might ask? Just like among some Rastas, directly African-derived spirit religions, surviving now in Haitian Vodou, Santería (Cuba), Candomblé (Brazil), or Obeah (Jamaica), known “spirit possession” religions seem to be viewed as backward and “devilish” within the NOI.

Among Rastas, Haile Selassie, and “old” and indigenous Ethiopian Christianity seemed a better foundation, or just some Biblical/Christian aspects “from an African perspective”.

This disdain of Vodou-like actually African religions within some Black Power movements is interesting for its connotations. Of course it relates to a cultural inferiority complex, because of the colonial and slavery past. It also has to do, however, with an already mentioned “stable power base”, and the idea of/believe in "one supreme God". The old-fashioned, rather conservative views on male-female relations within the NOI and (to a lesser degree) among some Rastas – with the man as “head” of the household, women serving him and dressing modestly and behaving sexually conservative, of course are also found in the Bible and the Quran (and Hadith: extra, oral accounts of Mohammed). Stable, strong families, must be the idea, but with a patriarchal structure of male dominance, even bordering misogyny at times.

There’s the idea that matriarchy – or mother/female dominance within families – within Black US (and Jamaican) culture arose from the disruption of family ties due to slavery conditions. This is partly true. Many of the enslaved Africans, though, came from areas in Africa with quite matriarchal, often polygamous cultures, even with polyandry (one woman having several men), and loose relations between even those sharing children. The “extended family” was in such cultures much more important than that Western “nuclear family” idea. Partners (even sharing children) often even did not live together (separate places for women and men, with occasional, let’s say “visits”, haha).

This was the case in many societies from Southern Ghana to Central Africa, which the Islam reached less. North of it (the Sahel zone), remnants of this were somehow fitted in Islamic male patriarchy standards.

In short, male dominance was originally not the family culture in much of Africa, also parts where many slaves came from (percentages dependent on colony: Ghana, Benin, Nigeria, Cameroun, Congo, or Angola).

Some historians even claim that colonizing Spaniards of the time of Columbus were more patriarchal culturally than Yoruba or Congo men in that time, ending up as slaves in Spanish colonies (often brought and sold by other Europeans), or many Amerindians, due to Spain’s religious (Catholic and Moorish/Islamic) conquest history, both upholding male patriarchy and “machismo”.

Further relevant facts: the enslaved Africans in Jamaica came for over an estimated 40% from the (non-Islamic) Ghana region, while Afro-Cubans in nearby Cuba for about 40% from the Congo region, and in also nearby Haiti Africans from the Benin/Togo area were dominant..

To the US went/were brought quite some Senegambian and Guinee-region slaves – Islamic-influenced before -, but also many from non-Muslim areas (many from Igboland, Nigeria, for instance).

The legitimacy of choosing the “Islam”, by the “Black Power movement” NOI, seems thus weak, at best. The NOI thus chose mostly fiction over reality. This is dubious, in my opinion. It betrays political, hidden goals, without knowing what’s hidden.

Reality is the African origins, from which African Americans (and Afro-Caribbeans, of course) were forcibly taken. Reality is however also “cultural heritage”. Culture is very much neglected in political discourse, probably because it is “feared” as too free and liberating for the masses, especially folk culture.

Rastafari is reasonably connected to culture, also to African retentions in Jamaica. While an African retention like Obeah is by some criticized as “devilish” magic, African remnants are in many small and big things in Jamaica, with a “Western” or British superficiality, or even influence, but always mixed.

The connection of Rastafari with Jamaica’s rich musical tradition (and notably Reggae), and Bob Marley’s global fame, brought Rastafari influence in Reggae music, and more African-derived percussion, for example. Subtly woven through Reggae music (and its precursors), the African polyrhythmic and harmonic musical heritage has, by the way, always been present and essential to it.

In addition, the “back to nature” focus of many Rastafari-adherents, with communal self-sufficiency and natural living, also draws on African traditions, long-lost in most of Europe and the Western world since its modernization and industrialization.

The NOI also has acquired economic power and ownership of businesses – along Garvey’s lines –within Black US, but simply fitting in the US capitalist society, without even much of a “cultural” change.

These contradictory aspects in the NOI were forgotten with extremely communicative and intelligent leaders like Malcolm X, keeping it together.

IDENTITY

In time, however, the “slippery slope” of “identity” politics slipped in the NOI, with as effect a superficial and political “identity”, totally detached from (lived ) culture stemming from an actual history. This can have – temporarily – a beneficial, emancipatory effect, but can go terribly wrong, especially with totalitarian regimes. After all, the German Nazi’s had as political identity “the Aryan”: a superior Germanic race, that should rule the world (according to them).

I now also live in a country (the Netherlands) said to have (like Germany) mostly a Germanic/Teutonic (ethno-historic) origin, and in time I got to wonder: what is this own Dutch, originally Germanic (in English also Teutonic) culture? Maybe some countries, like England, the Netherlands, and Germany modernized and industrialized too soon too much to maintain much “original culture”, and the Nazi’s replaced that, indoctrinating the people with a mythical, absurd “racial supremacy” notion, at the cost of others.

Nowadays, despite hidden ancient, Germanic cultural “remnants” (beyond the language), the Netherlands people are international, even imitating aspects of other cultures: from the US (even Black culture), more Southern parts of Europe with presumably more “temperamental” and “life-enjoying” people, or other parts of the world. I noticed this identity crisis – in hindsight – among White Dutch people I encountered, trying to “out-Black” me, because I (of South European descent) showed some appreciation for Black culture: a Reggae t-shirt or patch, for instance. For some odd, mistaken (slightly psychopathic) notion they considered themselves “gatekeeper” (for having more Black friends, maybe?), a phenomenon - White gatekeepers of Black culture) still found here and there. Seems almost like politics.

I guess that “culture” keeps the mind softer and opener than politics..

A Black Power movement based on Vodou-like beliefs would be strange – or to be honest: I would find it funny and intriguing -, but without going so far, still a fruitful, open-minded balance can be found, as is achieved in the Rastafari movement, lacking authoritarian, strict rules.

A balance seems most reasonable in the case of the African Diaspora in the West: colonial past, adapted to other societies, but knowing one’s roots. Realistic about one’s history, roots and routes.

The NOI – for all its interesting aspects – seems to deny some “realistic” aspects, but that is just my opinion, and it’s their prerogative..

IMPLICATIONS

Still, this choice to “abandon” Africa, the continent, as focus among the largest “Black Power” group in the US, the NOI, can have in my opinion negative connotations. For one, it replaces solidarity with the brothers and sisters on the African continent, with a semi-fictional one with the Arab world. You notice this even in the Palestina protests. Fine, and even noble, that Black people feel solidarity with the Palestinians’ cause, and critique Israel’s harsh, brutal, and discriminatory policies in Gaza and elsewhere. Too often, though, these same “selective” activists do not mention what happens elsewhere in the world, such as Africa, with genocides also having occurred or attempted in Sudan (e.g. Darfur) – some say still going on - , and some brutal regimes and violent conflicts here and there (I mentioned already Boko Haram).

Could it be that the fictive/symbolic alignment with the Islam as a “Black man’s religion” – popularized by the NOI – made many turn a blind eye to whatever is done in the name of Islam in Africa, especially when combined with a nice, melanin skin? Could it be that superficial?

People in Islamic (Northern) Sudan call themselves “Arabs”, while clearly mixed with Black Africans, pointing at cultural annihilation and depreciation of Africa and its people. Not unsimilar to what occurred among some African-descended people in the Americas. In the Dominican Republic, most people are mixed (mostly Spanish-African) and Mulatto-like, but long upheld a vague “Hispanic” identity, derived from European Spain. This differed among Dominicans (some saw themselves as mixed also culturally), but was the political norm. The same in Jamaica, where the political elite long fought the Afro-centric Rastafari movement, including even brutal repression and raids up to the 1960, and customary discrimination even into the 1970s. A “Black British” culture aimed at the Anglo-Saxon world, was the proscribed norm for the populace, it seemed.

BLACK-WHITE

Another negative implication is the Black-White discourse. In my opinion, this has gotten out of hand. In the early stages of emancipation it had a function, and even a positive, path-making one, as also Marcus Garvey used that dichotomy (albeit in his days (1910-1930s), also with now old-fashioned terms like Negro and Coloured).

Garvey however never forgot or abandoned the connection of “Black” with Africa.. Despite the politically (and historically) correct now common moniker of “African Americans” for US Blacks (along the lines of Irish American, Italian American, etc.), in common parlance “Black” and “White” is still the norm, not even just among stand-up comedians, for comedic effect (of variable quality in my opinion, though sometimes funny, I must admit).

This seems innocent, and just words, but psychologically can legitimize superficiality of skin color, over a rich African heritage, from even way before slavery. Even the interesting history from “way before Islam came to Africa (7th c. AD)” for that matter.

In my opinion, one’s sense of its (true) origins and culture makes one truly stable and stronger, and even more balanced. Ironically, also more open-minded, as less involved in “politicized oppositions”.

If you know “who you are”, as some put it, you are honest and spiritual enough to show sincere interest in the true beings of other humans – and other cultures! – as well, without games or hiding.

You also are more able to step out spiritually of the “rat race” of Western politics and economics, and apply other worldviews, with distinct, more natural and communally based lifestyles, also found in the African tradition, and applied (in their own way) by e.g. Rastafari adherents in Jamaica or elsewhere.

Also, in different ways, Vodou practitioners in Haïti, or those Afro-Cubans involved in Santería (Yoruba-based) or Palo Mayombe (Congo-based) spiritual faiths, kept open their mind for “alternatives ways of looking at Western culture ”, the (in this case) Catholic colonizers forced on them.

CULTURAL IDENTITY

Sometimes forming one's own personal cultural identity is a matter of “taking the best of both worlds”: I have known in Cuba some (pitch-) black Cubans – who would physically hardly stand out in Lagos or Kinshasa -, who only spoke Spanish proficiently -, and who could quote some poems by Spanish poets (like Federico García Lorca), and even from the famous Spanish novel Don Quichot – while at the same time attending Santería gatherings, and dressed in African/Yoruba attire on occasion, or playing Batá drums.

Rastafari artist and radio personality Mutabaruka also said in an interview that he tries to get the best of both worlds (Western modernity/technology and Africa), and learn about different parts of the world, while at the same time seeking to expand (also in his radio show) the knowledge about Africa and its history in Jamaica and beyond. It broadens one mind, in short, also to compare better internationally.

Though there were interesting and open-minded intellectuals within the Nation Of Islam (NOI) in the past and present – knowledgeable about global affairs, and sometimes say something sensible about it, even Louis Farrakhan – most of its rhetoric deals with the US situation.

Even if this is often just and right criticism of a certainly racist system and society in the US (and also other Western countries, for that matter) – keeping African Americans back structurally -, I think the knowledge of an own origin, and knowledge of one’s culture, offers more ways to deal with this, in an enduring, fruitful way, than playing along with that superficial (colonially inherited) game of “skin colour”. Even if your color is used against you, you can stand above that with pride in your own culture, your actual history, as a “true identity”. True self-assurance and true self-confidence.

That is also the power of a “story”, but more importantly: an indestructible power base in “truth” and love.

Reggae(-fied) cover songs

The Rolling Stone magazine listed their favourite Reggae cover songs in 2023, which I find interesting enough. Only a small mistake slipped in, because they failed to acknowledge the subjectivity, and kept “the best” in the headline.. but okay, I let that slide, haha. In the introduction it is however explained that the list consists of the ”favourites” of musician/producer Michael Goldwasser, someone with some experience in Reggae. Fair enough.

Here is the link to this article, to open it (in new window):

https://www.rollingstone.com/music/music-lists/best-reggae-cover-songs-1234724075/

I am after all curious what songs he would mention, in comparison to what I have known over the years as cover songs in Reggae.

Good to clarify on forehand what is meant: songs from other genres and foreign artists, by (Jamaican) Reggae artists, not covers of other Reggae songs.

WHAT I KNOW

I know some good examples of such Reggae(-fied) cover songs, let’s start with that, but also some that were not so much “bad” – musicianship mostly tight – but more: “unnecessary”, or “ill-advised covers”, as some album/song reviewers put it. The artists – who make good original songs themselves – moreover don’t really need it. Only when an own twist makes a song nicer for Reggae-accustomed ears, then respect is regained.

In ancient times, before recording and technology, in the folk tradition, songs, lyrics, and melodies, were shared among people, specifically artists and performers, often traveling around. “Folk standards” arose thus, with often even an unknown/unspecified – or just vague – origin.

According to many sources about it, cover versions are in essence “tributes”, which seems commonsensical. If I dislike a song, find it unpleasant to listen to.. then why would I bother to make a (better?) version of it, yet based on it? Indifference is often the biggest disdain.

Some cover songs indeed have some parody or even ridicule in them of the original song (and its cultural context), therefore comment on it, yet not surpass it. At times, the artists just do cover songs for commercial reasons (often pushed by their record company), to open new markets, or similar not-so-kosher reasons.

Mostly, however, it’s obviously a sign of respect, especially when the original artist is mentioned and recognized. This also led to some problems in the past, in contexts with little legal copyright protection, including in Jamaica up to the 1990s. This goes to show that there is difference between “recognizing” someone and “respecting” someone, “recognition” being rather similar to mere “acceptance”. Like you accept also negative facts.

British band’s UB40’s brand of Reggae – including some cover albums of Reggae songs – may not be everyone’s (like “Reggae purists”) cup of tea, but they handled copyright issues with Jamaican artists/composers of the originals they covered justly/respectfully and fairly, and were praised for that among these artists. Not everyone is that considerate, though.

From my perspective – see the name of my blog -, I can decide whether I agree with choices by Michael Goldwasser, or reflect on what he missed.

THE LIST BY MICHAEL GOLDWASSER

Not all mentioned cover songs I knew, to be honest, but a majority I indeed knew. As Goldwasser has an actual “ranking”, I found more to disagree with. Number one is the biggest commercially successful hit, which reminds me of the prevalent, commercial logic of the Grammy awards, seldom recognizing (let alone “respecting”) “real” culture, or only limitedly. It’s about the money made, in the end.

That biggest hit is Now That We Found Love by Third World. An okay song, in my opinion.. not much more than that, but a bit too “poppy” for Reggae ears. He makes it number one.

Ranking - to put one thing above others, and hierarchy -as such tends to give me a headache (maybe an allergy: or my “hierarchophoby”) , but I still can mention what choices of Goldwasser I also like as adequate – or even improving – cover songs (often of US R&B and Soul, but with exceptions).

Some choices of him seemed very peculiar to him, as I found those songs not very special or moving. Finely executed by skilled musicians, usually, but not special. I guess it depends on the fact whether I like – or would have liked! – the original.. the bar is laid high – or as they say in Dutch: “je legt de lat hoog” – and to improve on what’s good you have to be better, just as often, though, a cover is different, but slightly less thrilling. Originals often feel more real, after all.

The song One In A Million by Sanchez does not move me so much; Sanchez has in my opinion better songs.. even better covers. Sanchez has many covers, being his specialty, interchanged with occasional own compositions. More in the “Roots” realm, in earlier Reggae decades, Johnny Clarke operated more or less the same, but mostly covered within Reggae itself, like in the folk – shared culture – tradition.

Though I did not know Devon Russell covered a song I liked, Curtis Mayfield’s Move On Up, I found Russell’s cover not much more than okay. I guess Mayfield’s original is “too” original, haha. The percussion on the song (by Master Henry Gibson) is as flavouring as it is inimitable and idiosyncratic/unique. I miss it in Russell’s cover.

Some covers in the list by Johnny Osbourne (Ready Or Not), Dennis Brown (Silhouettes), Freddie McGregor (Sitting In The Park), Sugar Minott’s catchy cover of the Jacksons song, and Norma Fraser’s fine The First Cut Is The Deepest I did like myself too, and immediately, but Alton Ellis has, for instance, better cover songs than the one Goldwasser mentioned. Not so outstanding, though adequate. The Tamlins' Baltimore cover is groovy – played by Sly & Robbie -, while the almost classic Queen Majesty is flawless and more importantly: “soulful”, at least equaling in a Jamaican way the Impressions’ original. Those are indeed good covers.

In these cases the covers certainly gain a unique Jamaican feel, Reggae-fied, so much so that it feels natural and “fitting” somehow.. Like it should have been a Reggae song, almost. Sugar Minott’s version adds nice percussion, instrument-wise too, I noticed, “Caribbeanizing” it, so to speak.

Marcia Griffith’s cover of the Beatles song, Don’t Let Me Down.. a song I myself played/jammed on (on covers that is) often with my percussion, and resulting in jazzy escapades on those jam sessions.

The Beatles original I liked, and are one of my favourite songs of theirs, maybe. Marcia does not stay far behind, with an own twist. On the other hand, Chris Martin’s cover of Michael Jackson’s Lady In My Life could have been better, though Martin can sing for sure, but the production is kind of bland, in my opinion.

Foxy Brown covered an already great song by Tracy Chapman (Sorry), but hardly improves on it, but that is more to blame on mediocre production, than on her.

Horace Andy’s Ain’t No Sunshine (covering Bill Withers) is fine, but neither very outstanding within Horace Andy’s oeuvre: he has several better songs.

Finally, the Max Romeo cover mentioned is fine, but I liked Romeo's recent one (on what would be one of his last albums) of Eve of Destruction better.

ANALYSIS

This Rolling Stone magazine list is thus a highly personal one by Michael Goldwasser, who seemed qua tastes more influenced by the current, more commercial mainstream and “Pop” than, e.g., me. About 5 of his choices I could understand, and these (and some other song) have some interesting aspects, and are fine enough, though somewhat underwhelming.

What did Goldwasser forget, or in other words: what would my list more or less be (my “alternative” list, say)?

Goldwasser’s list is from 2023, so not so long ago to have missed nice recent covers in Reggae.

MY LIST

I don’t want the headache hierarchically “ranking” songs brings with it, so I won’t do that. I can give my “alternative” list, without order or ranking, of course not any more authoritative or “correct” than Goldwasser’s, but just showing different tastes among two Reggae fans, both named Michael (well, I also Michel/Miguel).

I focus on cover songs that I myself personally liked, just like Goldwasser did (even without admitting the subjectivity fully), although guided by some knowledge about Reggae, and being a fan of it for decades.

- Terry Linen – The World’s Greatest (I liked the original, even quite a lot, for which I now should be ashamed, as R. Kelly was caught with some - as deemed - questionable sexual escapades. Still, the original was strong, and Linen does it justice, and more, with a good danceable groove, Reggae-fied finely. Terry Linen’s voice “fits”, furthermore. Terry linen likes to cover songs, having made some other nice ones too.

- Alton Ellis – You’ve Made Me So Very Happy (original by a woman, a Motown Soul, Brenda Holloway, showing how gender in this case does not matter, as Alton at least exhibits the same soulful spirit to the song, with great singing). There are more examples of good covers by Alton Ellis. He had the talent for it. He even improves on Neil Sedaka’s Working On A Groovy Thing.
- Burning Spear – Estimated Prophet (cover of a Grateful Dead song, a California band around the celebrated Jerry Garcia. I did not know the Grateful Dead’s original, when I first heard Burning Spear’s version, but knew I liked Burning Spear’s/Winston Rodney’s rendition, with interesting, magical elements in the production. I later heard the Grateful Dead’s original, which is okay and well-composed, but less my thing. In my opinion, Burning Spear improves on it.

- Tarrus Riley – Human Nature, a cover I immediately liked. It was also of a song I liked of Michael Jackson, that somewhat helped. Tarrus does sing well and soulfully, almost as much as Michael, and that is necessary to do the original at least justice. In addition it is nicely Reggae-fied, with authentic Jamaican Reggae musicians: it fits a Reggae groove (or the other way around), giving an extra touch above the “slick” more mainstream original on Jackson’s Thriller album, that seemed (IMHO) a bit “too polished to be funky” (a general critique I can give to the Thriller album), though nice enough. The song itself is strong, is the case, almost irrespective of accompaniment).
- The Mighty Diamonds should be mentioned, and in fact I can mention several cover songs by them I like, sometimes improving on them, or lifting them to other, soulful heights, aided by Tabby Shaw’s beautiful lead vocals. Gipsy Woman (cover of Impressions song) can be mentioned as excellent, Stoned Out Of My Mind is nice , but even Putting On The Ritz (seemingly one of those “ill-advised” covers, dating back to a 1930 “jazzy” Irving Berlin song) they cover well, clearly improving on the original).

- Ken Boothe, the Impossible Dream, is a cover from a musical Man of la Mancha, based on the life of Don Quichot, the self-sacrificing, idealistic Spanish knight. Something else than the more common Soul, R&B, or folk/pop songs, Reggae artists tend to cover, and therefore an original choice. The song and its lyrics lend itself well to Ken Boothe’s exquisite, soulful vocals, lifting it higher on a nice Reggae groove. The original in the musical drama I saw and was kind of moving (also within the story line), but later covers of this musical song by others in other genres (Luther Vandross, Tom Jones, Temptations, Josh Groban, a.o.) differed in quality, and often lacked an edge: too polished and smooth. I found Ken Boothe’s to be one of the better ones. It is soulfully convinces, and you feel the message, probably even without having seen the musical.

- The Heptones covered Bob Dylan’s I Shall Be Released to good effect, but also Elvis Presley’s Suspicious Minds they pulled off well. They added a warm, own Jamaican harmony vocal touch to these originals. Also these lyrics fit the soulful singing on these Reggae versions.
- John Holt made some nice covers too, of which Killing Me Softly probably convinced most in its soulful feel.
- ‘African Herbsman’ is the title of is Bob Marley and the Wailers's effective and appealing cover of Richie Havens (1969) “hippy soul-like” Indian Rope Man, so lyrically “Rastafaried” to African Herbsman. Havens original is nice and atmospheric, but the Wailers version more groovy and danceable, with Lee Perry-produced Reggae adding extra flavour.

- Everton Blender covered the already great Black American (Soul) classic, by Syl Johnson: Is It Because I’m Black?, orig. from 1969. Everton’s cover version is great, but in fact it has been covered by several Jamaican artists, also very admirably by Ken Boothe, Delroy Wilson, Nicky Thomas, and recently by Samory I. These are also good and soulful, Everton Blender’s version perhaps adding an extra, nice “edge”. As with other “classic” songs with “soul”, the strength is the song (melody, message, feel) itself, not so much the musical accompaniment, which is replaceable, and is on Syl Johnson’s original not bad, but with a quite basic Soul groove. Reggae versions, like the one of Everton Blender, certainly added a more danceable, and impressive accompanying groove, and a fuller instrumental part (horns, percussion, a.o.), while of course roughly following the original’s chord structure. Samory I’s version (with partly changed lyrics) is in comparison more sober, but the song’s strength still gets through, with an own original twist..

- Glen Washington covered a Soul classic by Luther Ingram with some merit: If Loving You Is Wrong (orig. 1972), especially adding a Reggae feel with similar “soul” as the original. Sometimes, like with Terry Linen, a singing voice “fits” with the original covered.
- The latter applies – perhaps more surprisingly – to Anthony B who recently covered I Want To Know What Love Is by US pop/rock band Foreigner. One could argue that it is a strange choice for a “conscious” Reggae artist, but I must admit I even liked the original (rock ballads not usually “my thing”, but a good song is a good song). Anthony B does it justice, with a nice Reggae twist, and his voice seems to “fit”.. somehow..

I can list more examples, but will just conclude with some “honorary mentions” added to this: Luciano’s Bob Dylan cover of Knocking On Heaven’s Door is fine, and – as they say – “made his own”, Toots & The Maytals covering one of his inspirers Otis Redding with I’ve Got Dreams To Remember is a good cover.

Some effective covers of Dennis Brown and Freddie McGregor (e.g. I’ll Never Fall In Love Again, What Difference Does It Make) on their early Studio One albums. Also – more recently -, Sly & Robbie’s cool, characteristic cover of Marvin Gaye’s Inner City Blues (sung by Delroy Washington), Bushman’s cover of the 1960s “hippy/flower power” classic One Tin Soldier (on his great 2004 album Signs), - strange choice but it works, Bushman’s deep voice interestingly contrasting the original’s female sung original.

In addition Sizzla’s funny (and groovy!) Dancehall take on Bob Dylan’s Subterranean Homesick Blues.. with even the video being a cover of Dylan’s.

I probably forgot some I also liked: mostly good singers, in old and new Reggae (like Romain Virgo) usually make good covers of Soul, R&B, or Pop songs, sometimes even improving on the originals..

Some of these I mentioned in my list did – in my opinion – just that: improving on the originals, or at least equaling them.

TRIBUTE?

In English you can use the linguistic term “cover song” or alternatively “interpretation”, in Spanish the main word is (just) “interpretación”. This is not quite the same as strictly “copying”, since you “interpret” it in your own way – to differing degrees. While I prefer original songs by talented artists (the other songs have been done already, by others), that could be also a function of cover songs for even established artists: showing their talents to “interpret” good or famous songs, thus displaying their own talent and skills (or not), while also some musicians/instrumentalists probably enjoy “Reggae-fying” the original song’s accompaniment and chord structure, considering this a nice challenge as well.

Paying tribute is another already mentioned function, but is partly relative when departing from an “interpretation” perspective. Some – I suspect even within Reggae – choose songs to deliberately improve on them, showing their Jamaican and Reggae identities.. The Mighty Diamonds’ Putting On The Ritz could be an example. Yami Bolo’s cover of Madonna’s La Isla Bonita – it exists! – could be such a perceived challenge, although it is also possible that Yami Bolo actually liked the song. Not all Madonna songs are so bad, as some of her haters claim, by the way. Madonna at least works with talented musicians, I hear on some of her songs, or maybe she is more talented than we assume.

In most cases, though, these Reggae covers of genres outside of Reggae are indeed meant as “tribute” or “respectful”, in many cases honoring the covering artists’ idols or inspirers within Black US music (Soul, R&B), mostly, although Bob Dylan, and Elvis Presley are also repeatedly covered.

OVERALL

Remarkably, Stevie Wonder and Marvin Gaye are not covered so much in Reggae (a few cases.. Delroy Wilson covered What’s Going On nicely), even if several Reggae artists said they count them among their idols. Otis Redding and also Sam Cooke are covered in Reggae, though. The same can be said of James Brown, though that may relate to James’ rhythmic, “funk” focus. The Impressions/Curtis Mayfield are on the other hand covered a lot within Reggae (also by Bob Marley), and were indeed an inspiration for many Reggae artists.

In addition, I think the lyrics play a role. Some of the artists covered relatively often within Reggae tend to express social critique as in much Reggae (Bob Dylan, Curtis Mayfield), anti-war or –establishment messages like some “flower power”/ hippie songs, or share in the “Black struggle” (but in the US). Other covered songs discuss a more universal human condition, while others just have somehow appealing, identifiable approaches to love and romance.

However, Reggae artists – overall – more often cover other Reggae or Jamaican artists, that came before (Bob Marley, Peter Tosh, Dennis Brown, Gregory Isaacs, Ken Boothe, or from the Studio One era: Bob Andy, Eric Donaldson, Tyrone Taylor, the Techniques/Uniques, John Holt/Paragons, etcetera). These differ also in quality, but are not the subject of this post. It shows, however, well how rich the Jamaican musical culture was and is, over the years and decades. Nuff elders to cover within Reggae itself.

Anyway, the fact that Jamaican Reggae artists with several good and great original songs of themselves , still choose to cover songs by these other (foreign) artists – mostly to good effect, with an own touch - makes the inherent compliment/tribute of cover songs even bigger. More sincere appraisal, and less “wannabe-behaviour” or “commercial calculus” , so to speak.

All good and well, these lists of Reggae(-fied) cover songs – and culturally interesting, international /Black US influences, etc. – but let’s not forget that many of the covering/interpreting Jamaican artists mentioned have many good original songs themselves, that at least match many of these originals. While some of these Reggae(-fied) songs became “club hits” of sorts, seldom are they “standouts” on albums with further an artist’s original songs, often more solid.

These great originals only reached less people for being confined to the globally less-commercial marginalized Reggae world of Jamaica, and remained unknown to many outside of it, too limited mostly to “niche” markets in the Western world and elsewhere (read: Reggae fans).