In accord with the accordion?

To be honest, I never really had before the idea of delving myself into the world of the “accordion”, the musical instrument. Sure, some musical instruments I did study – and wrote about on this blog -, but these were more in my fields of interest, related to either my musical tastes , or my cultural background. They were “cool” for me, so to speak. The accordion apparently was not in that “world of the cool”, according to my personal taste, of course fully subjective. Or was it?

“..not related to my musical tastes or cultural background”, I just suggested. Is that totally true?

The fact is that my father, hailing from Northern Italy, told me he used to play the accordion back in Italy as youngster, and quite well, occasionally also the harmonica. Over time, and after migrating to the Netherlands in the 1960s, he played less and less (a few times), and eventually mostly forgot it.

My own father thus played the Italian accordion, but I had not so much interest in Italian folk music, especially when younger: later a little more. I even got to like Italian classical music (Puccini, Vivaldi, Monteverdi, etc.) better than German/Austrian composers (Bach, Beethoven) – that never did it for me - because of that connection to Italian folk music. Some aspects of it I liked, after all, and several instruments, cello, violin, but definitely also the accordion are part of that. The same appreciation I obtained for e.g. some French, Celtic-based folk music, e.g. from the Auvergne (Massif central) region..

My other side, the Spanish one on my mother’s side, more in the South of Spain, had less that accordion-connection, due to its own rich musical culture of guitars, castanets, flamenco, tambourines, and more, with accordions more associated with parts of Northern Spain, I vaguely heard (Catalonia, Pyrenees, Basque country). Flamenco has no role for accordions, neither other known (Central and Southern) Spanish genres like Jota and Fandango. Not traditionally, anyway.

I became a Reggae fan since my teens, and in Jamaican or non-Jamaican Reggae music you rarely – if ever - hear an accordion, safe for “novelty”, experimental purposes, as I believe on some Dub albums.

Yet, I also got an interest in Latin American, and Afro-Latin American music, especially with good grooves, studying later the percussion patterns. As I would become a percussionist, the accordion remained an “external” realm, yet it was used in genres I liked and studied in the Caribbean, Brazil, and Colombia, combined with (to me) more appealing, percussive rhythms. Think of Merengue in the Dominican Republic, Vallenato and Cumbia in Colombia, or Forró and Lambada in Brazil. The country of which the music I fell in love with most in Spanish-speaking America, Cuba, though, Afro-Cuban music, had little or no accordion use. Therefore my connection with or interest in the accordion as instrument was hardly sustained.

Nonetheless, I got intrigued by the instrument more and more, as sometimes happens with phenomena you first somehow “coldly” acknowledge or even take for granted, but then start looking at them from a different angle.

ORIGIN

My prejudice of the accordion’s association with European folk music in France, Northern Italy, and such, was not entirely just that: prejudice. It indeed plays an important role in parts of European folk music. I only forgot Germany and Eastern Europe.

I always thought the accordion was a French invention, seeing it there in folk culture, and a MIDI sound set I worked with had as sounds Accordion, and it subdivided into French or Italian. I knew the hand violin in the European tradition was of Northern Italian origin, so the accordion could also be an Italian invention, I then started to think.

Turns out that the accordion was neither a French nor an Italian invention: it was invented in Germany (Berlin), by a Christian Buchsmann, and around 1822. The partly related (instrument type-wise; both use “free reeds”) harmonica also, but more in the Southwest of Germany, I also recently found out.

Interestingly, the deepest origins can be traced to China, where the first instruments using "free vibrating reeds" were known to appear, with a bamboo (mouth) instrument called the Sheng or Cheng, already around 5000 years ago. So, it's not solely European in origin. This principle of "free (vibrating) reeds" reached Europe around 1777, inspiring instruments there (harmonica, and a bit later the accordion). So, ultimately partly Chinese in conception, but the accordion in this form was nonetheless a German invention, and first used in the musical culture there.

For tourism promotion reasons, recently Berlin was called “the capital of cool” – with which I did not agree (not my favourite city in Europe, let’s say), but “cool” is a personal definition, so no disrespect for people who like Berlin. Anyway, that accordion’s origin in Berlin didn’t make it per se “cooler” for me. I liked the folk culture of Italy and France better than the “Germanic spirit” (in parallel with the classical music from these countries). So I had my own personal, cultural reasons, due to my more Latin than Germanic background..

It is what it is: German-invented and spread, and it can still be interesting to study the origin and trajectory of the accordion, specifically since I heard – and liked – its creative, and “groovy”, rhythmic use in some Latin American genres.

The instrument itself is – like the Belgian-invented saxophone – quite interesting, in fact. The German inventor, Buchsmann, in 1822 at first named the accordion the “handa-online”, I read, and the keys pressed on both sides (melodic and harmonic functions) can only sound when moving, pulling the flexible bellows in between. That’s the reason it became known in e.g. the Netherlands as the “trek-harmonica” (“pull-harmonica”). By using this mechanic move, with wind, pressed through the bellow into metal (free) reeds, it became in fact categorized as “wind instrument”, despite the keys/buttons on the sides. You use wind, but not your mouth for it.

Soon after 1822, in 1829, the accordion further developed and first was "updated" in Austria, where a more complex type was patented called “diatonic”, allowing chord playing. It remained still somewhat limited, as the pulled/pushed bellows only played notes of the buttoned key, whereas a later German- (some say Russian-)-invented type, around 1850 – known as chromatic accordion - had more possibilities, was larger with more buttons, and made the bellow move per each note pushed. It could then include more semi-notes. The comparison is made between the chromatic accordion playing like all keys on a piano, and the diatonic only able to play the white ones.

The simpler “diatonic” accordion was however smaller and more portable for travel, than the more complex “chromatic” one. The chromatic accordion is popular in former Yugoslavia, I understood.

I can imagine, anyway, why this instrument would be interesting or fun to play, as my father chose to do in his younger days.

From Germany and Austria, it soon spread to other European countries, France, Italy (in both places obtaining an important place in folk music), but also Eastern Europe and Russia, equally gaining an important place. Especially in (Northern) Italy the accordion became very popular, and even “claimed”. This included unfortunately by dubious figures like erstwhile dictator Mussolini, seeing it as a sign of Italian invention and industriousness, stimulating its production in e.g. Castelfidardo (Marche, E. Italy), still an epicenter today of accordion production.

Despite some dubious connections with Fascism, it remained popular, and one can say that after Germany and Austria, as explained above, Italy became the accordion’s second/third “main” homeland.

It would, however, travel globally, and especially to the Americas too.

Predictably, to the US, with e.g. much German migration, to some French colonies, but also to parts of Latin America, colonized by Iberian countries that had less that accordion tradition.

LATIN AMERICA

There it became more interesting, at least for me. When examining the reasons why the accordion came to the Dominican Republic, it also has a link with Germany: German traders coming into the Dominican Republic, around the mid-19th c., spreading the instrument. Something similar occurred on the Caribbean coasts of Colombia and Venezuela, while in Brazil there was much German and (Northern) Italian immigration, bringing the accordion to the mixed society.

Similar as in the Dominican Republic, where a culture developed from the mix of Hispanic and African elements, and some Amerindian elements, but with also some other influences. The rhythmic structures remained mostly African in local Merengue from the Dominican Republic, song structures and guitars showed Spanish influences, and some instruments Amerindian influences.

The accordion was simply fitted within this musical context (added or replacing guitars): mostly playing counter-rhythms and –melodies in the Afro-Caribbean tradition, including syncopation and polyrhythm. Both rhythmically and melodically, sometimes even more rhythmically. This meant an evolution from the accordion’s first European uses, when it rendered popular folk melodies – like the well-known Polka - with some harmony (or on mostly simple rhythms). The patterns on the accordion in Dominican Merengue (típico) in turn show rhythmic and call-and –response retentions from Africa, later translated to modern Merengue (or other instruments, like the “salsa” horn section).

The – I know: over-simplified – distinction between the continents and their folk music’s main focus: - Europe’s “big” on harmony, Asia on melody, and Africa on rhythm -, more or less applies here.

The same can be heard in a genre I recently also studied: NE Brazilian (Bahia a.a.) Forró: a mixed genre with African (drum), Amerindian, and Portuguese influences, and over time other European influences. I was inspired by this study for my own instrumental composition Xaxado Adaptado (Xaxado is a subgenre within Forró).

The accordion became thus a prominent instrument in Forró, but adapted to stronger rhythms, as happened with Merengue. Another instrument commonly used in Forró, besides the double-sided tambor (drum), and seen as European, the metal triangle, also obtained a rhythmic, percussive function within the whole. The triangle played in a “funky” way, believe it or not.

The Lambada dance becoming famous as Brazilian “dirty dance” due to the catchy world hit Lambada by Kaoma (and another catchy one: Dançando Lambada), is also on music with accordion, as influenced by Forró (and other NE Brazilian music genres).

While a commercial hit, Lambada is interesting as an example of the accordion’s global development over time, to another, Brazilian context: more rhythmical. Much earlier in the century, the accordion was in popular music in the US and Europe, associated to quite other genres, - with Slavic, Germanic , Celtic, or Latin touches (like the Waltz, Mazurka, a.o.) - though sometimes dance-oriented too, as in Eastern European traditions. People also danced to Polka.

In Colombia, the accordion gained in time a place within the Vallenato genre, in its Caribbean region. Again, German trading travelers probably introduced it, via ports. It even became used within Cumbia, like Vallenato an Afro-Colombian genre, with African, Amerindian, Spanish, and various other influences. Mostly the piano accordion (keys instead of buttons) drove the melody in Colombian Cumbia (or Cumbia in other Latin American countries, like Mexico), as the diatonic accordion does in the Vallenato genre. That same melodic – or semi-melodic – function the accordion (usually the diatonic one) got in Merengue or Brazil, usually replacing guitar types, that nonetheless played quite rhythmically.

Elsewhere in Latin America, the accordion got used in Northern Mexican music (Norteño), and the Bandoneon or “concertina” in Argentina (also for Tango) is a related instrument, developing as the accordion reached Britain by 1829.

ME, MYSELF, & I

My point in this blog post is, however, what my personal connection with the accordion is, related to my musical tastes and passions, as a Reggae fan, and also, as musician, mainly a percussionist, influenced by Afro-Cuban and African musical patterns.

And my songwriting activities. I write and record songs under different influences, and used the digital MIDI (faux, but sampled well) “accordion” sound from the keyboard on some of my songs. I made a few “Merengue”-like songs, and felt it appropriate to use this MIDI “accordion” on them, within hopefully Dominican Merengue vibes.

Likewise the few French “chansons” I once made, could, in my opinion, not do without the in my idea typical “folk French” accordion. I used it on my songs Pluie Sur Paris and my “soul cry” ‘Un Artiste’ (also featuring a Midi-samples bagpipe).

Yet, in Reggae, which I love and follow, I rarely encountered or heard sounds of the accordion. The related, more “bluesy” harmonica sometimes (several artists, incl. Bob Marley on Rebel Music), but very rarely the “hand-bellow” accordion. The related harmonica/mouth-organ I do play (the actual one, not the MIDI one), by the way.

OTHER POP

Other “pop” music artists I kind of liked or followed – outside of Reggae or Latin - had some accordion in songs I liked. Some examples: Paul Simon’s Boy In The Bubble, within an interesting South African musical mélange, and Tom Waits on the nice song Innocent When You Dream. On both these songs the accordion added to the nice, overall feel, in the way that it’s played.

I like some of the albums of the unique “cabaret” blues/folk-like music of Tom Waits, as some work of Paul Simon. Partly because of their creative use of instruments and genres (and “lyrics”).

While Tom Waits uses the accordion on some of his songs – and fit the folksy vibe on more songs -, and also has one of his album cover with an accordion, Waits is also know to have said: “A gentleman is someone who can play the accordion, but doesn’t “. The same cryptic yet intriguing message as in much of his lyrics, and seemingly a “diss”, a critique of the accordion. Or not? Irony? Who knows, haha.

IN CONCLUSION

My bond with the “accordion” is less insignificant than I care to admit. I used, after all a MIDI sound imitating the (French) accordion on some of the songs I released, such as the Merengue-influenced Soy El Chévere, a Forró instrumental, as I mentioned, and even more melodically on my French-language “chansons”, that I also mentioned earlier. Not the real thing, as I don’t even own an actual accordion, but still.

I go jamming sometimes in clubs in Amsterdam with my percussion, and sometimes someone plays an accordion there nicely (on e.g. Jazz or Blues). Indeed, the accordion has found a place in Jazz, by the way. The owner of the oldest Blues club in Amsterdam, Maloe Melo, plays the accordion.

Other main influences on my musical tastes - and consequently my main musical activities (songwriter, percussionist) - are often (poly)rhythmic and from sub-Saharan Africa, Reggae/Jamaica, and Afro-Cuba, and a bit also from(southern) Spain and its Flamenco culture, where my maternal family hails from. All these “regions” and cultures have very little of an “accordion” tradition, yet shaped me.

Spain is as said hardly in the “heartland” of the accordion within Europe. This “heartland” must be placed in Central Europe: Germany, Austria, Northern Italy, most of France, and parts of Eastern Europe, including Russia, (up to the Balkan), with some outliers (under German, Austrian, French, or Italian influence, or through travelers).

The accordion obtained a place in northern parts of Spain (Catalonia, Pyrenees, and Basque music), even in folk music, but not much beyond it. In the Basque country, the Accordion is called locally Trikiti – or Trikitixa (meaning “small” accordion) -, and came there probably through Italians in the port of Bilbao or through Alpine Italian migrants or workers. Not via neighboring France (as more to the East and in Catalonia), as one would assume. It adapted either way to Basque folk genres.

Later, some Basque younger artists used it more creatively and experimentally, mixing traditional Basque music with modern influences. Probably the best known accordion/trikitixa player in Spain, Kepa Junkera, from Bilbao, is such a “composing” artist.

Elsewhere in Iberia or Spain, I heard it less in folk music. The “own invention” of Spain itself (albeit with some Persian-Moorish antecedents), the acoustic guitar, is there heard much more, and is also associated strongly of course with Flamenco. Like the accordion, the Spanish guitar spread widely globally of course, also outside Europe: perhaps even more so than the accordion.. In Spanish colonies like Cuba that guitar has a predictable historical presence, but pretty soon also in Jamaica, the US, parts of Africa, Asia, etcetera. The accordion – in turn - more in other parts of the world, related to different national (German, French, Italian), colonial or historical influences, or migrations.

I may – safe some interest and experiments – overall not be an accordion “buff” or “fanatic”, but still find it interesting to learn how a 1820s-invented German, bellowed wind instrument like the accordion, got to spread so widely, to be ultimately used in and adapted to different musical idioms, even in exotic cultures, and in groovy, rhythmic ways.

My Burro conga pattern and its wider context

When learning to play Afro-Cuban drums like the Bongó (the double, attached smaller drums), and the Conga, I also had some formal lessons from an experienced percussionist, who even had schooling when residing in Cuba, though he was from Curaçao. This was in Amsterdam, the Netherlands, and this teacher I had then (back in 2014) was Vernon Chatlein. He became quite well-known in the “percussion world” in the Netherlands, Curaçao, and beyond. More on him here: https://vernonchatlein.com/, or in Dutch https://musicmeeting.nl/nl/artiest/vernon-chatlein.

It would be unnecessary - and perhaps unwise - to share all he taught me, being after all a personal and gradual learning process, internalized and put in practice. Later on I went to jam sessions playing percussion (so after some lessons and self-education) with other people, and composing instrumentals.

That’s the bigger picture, that is not very specific or special. Many people learn to play an instrument, either through formal lessons by teachers or in a school setting (or nowadays online), while others more or less teach themselves, through books or the Internet in modern times.

Drummers (trap/kit) and percussionists play of course no “chord” instruments, so the mathematical “basic knowledge” that implies is not needed. Of course there are examples of great “chord instrument” musicians who could not even read music and did all “by ear” or “feeling”, but nowadays in the Western world some formal theory seems to be the starting point for aspiring instrumentalists.

Also in other cultures, young learners are for a period apprentices with more experienced musicians, as in e.g. Africa, where there are also specific “castes”/social classes of musicians (griots/jeli) within societies, preserving knowledge.

TECHNICAL AND CREATIVE

“Formal” lessons should however be a guiding point, not a “blueprint”, especially if you know yourself to be the “creative type”.

In the music world you roughly have the “technical type”, who do what the rules say, and people like me of the “creative type”. As also in the Western world, males are more active as instrumentalists, so a certain technical/exact sciences bias is there, to some annoyance. The latter especially when they advice more creative musicians, from a “rule” focus, even instruments they do not play.

Be all that as it may, and those fools aside, I took some lessons by others – with a proven record of quality and knowledge - teaching me some useful patterns, and giving me useful advice.

This includes drum/conga patterns. I will specifically focus on one of them, for their wider connotations, beyond the technical.

CABALLO

First I focus on the Caballo, or A Caballo, pattern, which means Horse (or By Horse) in Spanish, and refers to a Conga pattern, said to come from the “Son” musical complex from Eastern Cuba. In time this would feed into what we know as Salsa (largely based on Afro-Cuban music, like Son).

The Tumbao pattern is most known of all Cuban conga patterns, I think, and is also known from Salsa, as are the patterns from the Rumba complex, like Guaguancó (also other parts of Cuba: Havana/Matanzas).

Even people who do not know what the name Tumbao and Guaguancó (a Conga pattern) refer to, might have heard these rhythms in Latin and Salsa music.

The (A) Caballo pattern is a bit less-known, though known in percussion and Latin circles. As the name suggests it imitates the walking – or galloping – sound of a horse, being the joke of it, you might say. This can be fitted well in different rhythms.

I learned this Caballo (horse) pattern, and later tried them out on other music genres, also during live jam sessions in Amsterdam and around. More swing- and shuffle-based genres (Blues, Jazz, etc.) as well, and also on Funk, Rock, or Reggae. Even on Country-like music – not very rich in percussion, usually – it seemed to fit well.

In Cuban music, songs by the Buena Vista Social Club, - like Chan Chan - usually are cited as containing examples of that A Caballo rhythmic pattern, though you have to listen well (listening and “feeling”), and it is often mixed with other older Son/Afro-Cuban patterns.. It certainly has a tradition, and somehow relates to rural areas of eastern Cuba, where horses are known since colonial times.

Horses arrived in the Americas with European colonialism, yet prehistoric antecedents of the wild horses actually originate from present-day America, crossing to Eurasia. We’re talking about around a million years ago, and in America they became extinct, later reintroduced by Spanish and later colonizers.

The modern horse - however - we know today was domesticated around 2200 BC in Eastern Europe, making the modern horse European, albeit with extinct American antecedents.

BURRO?

After having played this “caballo” pattern on conga’s (and other drums, like the bongo), also during jams, both the curious/intellectual as the “creative” sides of me were awakened, apparently. Donkeys are also used in rural areas, in fact more common among poorer rural people than “elite” horses. I have seen donkeys in Cuba, as well. The question then came naturally to me: how would a “donkey pattern” on conga(s) sound? How do donkeys walk?

From this questioning, I came up with the Donkey pattern – played on conga drums - , calling it El Burro (the Donkey in Spanish), as it arose in response to the Cuban “caballo” patterns.

These are wider connotations beyond “technical musical” skills, which run the risk – like all numbers-based “exact” sciences – to become cold and boring, even if (eventually) turning out “groovy” in a musical mix. Rhythm is not just “counting”, but also “soul”, in my view. Also “imagination” and knowledge giving it substance.

THE ANIMAL

I started to wonder how donkeys – also in the horse family, after all – differ from horses, as animals. My mother grew up in rural SW Spain, and told me she had donkey’s, horses, and mules around her (along with goats, sheep, cows, bulls: the Mediterranean picture), but I did not.

I only saw real donkeys in what in the Netherlands are called “kinderboerderijen”, model-farms for children, housing farm animals for educational purposes, aimed at children, mainly: goats, peacocks, sheep, rabbits, geese, pigs, and donkeys.. usually also a bit “rarer” animals, as cows still had an economic use on the Dutch countryside , and were seen more often. Donkeys, however, were held mainly at those kinderboerderijen/model farms, for novelty purposes. I later learned that donkeys – even if held at real farms, stayed inside, as their fur do not protect against rain, and donkeys dislike water.

In the Netherlands, there are quite some manèges - horse riding schools - which kept horses, and I saw people riding horses regularly, sometimes in fields. Donkeys I saw less, though there were a few times.

To make a long story short: I had to search actual donkeys, and further studied through (less-real) online/Internet sources, or nature documentaries. Just to get the sound of them walking, or galloping, which my mother knew from her youth, as other people from rural areas.

As I thus heard about donkeys as common in rural Spain at that time, I began to question if maybe they were more common in Spain – and wider Mediterranean areas – than in a Northern European country like the Netherlands.

ORIGIN AND CHARACTERISTICS

Further study about the origins and current spread of donkeys led to interesting information, of some things I did not know. The origin of the donkeys is traced to Eastern Africa (Somalia, Ethiopia, Nubia), in drier climates. They were first – interestingly – domesticated in Nubia, around what is now Sudan and around. So originally African. This domestication by pastoral people in Eastern Africa (following those of oxen, etc.) took already place around 7000 BC, so much earlier than the mentioned one of horses in Europe.

The drier and less hospitable (desert-like, arid) climate must have shaped the genetic makeup of the donkey: indeed it is known as resilient, and as “stubborn”, even in popular sayings. Its characteristics were shaped by surviving in deserts, unlike the horses (from wetter grasslands), hence its resilience, endurance, eating patterns, but also e.g. bigger, rotating ears – and good hearing - , loud noises (yee-haw), and a more independent nature, even after domestication. They are quite strong (relative to body weight, stronger than horses), and are known for good memories, e.g. in remembering long routes exactly. They are also known as “prudent”, avoiding dangers calmly.

Other interesting differences with horses and other equines I learned about in some interesting documentaries I saw. Donkeys tend to be “hydrophobic” (eschewing water), due to their desert origins, see mostly canides (dogs, wolves) as main enemies, and also, as said in a documentary, “are the only equines that never flea from danger”. They are thus much less fearful than e.g. horses, and also when encountering problems or dangers, stay calmer than other animals – or even humans. Donkeys always keep their cool. Kind of like the Shaft (“..the ‘cat’ who won’t cop out when there’s danger all about”, as sung in the Shaft theme song), of the equines.

CULTURAL IMAGE

In Western history, some stereotypes of donkeys as somehow “dumb”, “nitwits” or slow, arose, as well as insults based on this.

In Greek culture and myths (around their god Apollo) this image of “dumb” or “stupid” was already there. In one story, Midas (the expression Midas Touch come from this Greek myth), a king who wished he could turn everything he wanted in gold, had his ears turned into those of a donkey, as punishment for judging music wrongly. He favoured someone he knew over Apollo’s, who was known as vane but played good. Those Greek myths are sometimes strange, with more hidden symbolism and morality. A difference with the Bible stories, where the moral intent and symbols tend to be clearer. Punished with donkey ears, while donkeys actually have exquisite hearing (better than other animals, and better than humans).. Ironic…

William Shakespeare, the famous British writer, was in fact very negative about the donkeys, deeming them stupid, and inventing in his works even “new” words for the English dictionary, as “donkey insults” (like jackass, and all words with “jack” or “ass”, “you know jackshit” means you don’t know anything, etc.). This became normalized within Britain and the English language. This in time also in sharp contrast to the almost “adored” status of the other equine, horses, in British culture.

The work of Shakespeare’s contemporary (a bit earlier) counterpart in Spain, who wrote Don Quijote, Miguel de Cervantes, was more positive. The protagonist, the idealist knight Don Quijote rode a horse he named Rosinante -, but his steady helper (and "sidekick" avant-la-lettre) was the more down-to-earth Sancho Panza, who in turn rode a donkey (then common in Spain) alongside him. This donkey is in the Don Quijote novel described quite affectionately, as a loyal companion, on their journeys in this famous story.

Yet, after Ancient Greece, Rome, and England, also in Spain, and other parts of Europe (Germany, Netherlands, France) donkeys were described as dumb, used as insults for humans considered unintelligent or stupid/dumb-witted. The Spanish “rumba flamenco” pop hit Borriquito (1972) – even an international hit – used it as such, the lyrics going: “you are just a stupid little donkey (also “borrico” in Spanish), I know more than you”, as a kind of jokingly out-bragging. I heard the song through my family contexts. Singer Peret comes from a Catalonia-based Roma family.

I personally liked the other 1970s international Spanish flamenco pop hit I heard likewise through Spanish family, “Poromopompero” (Manolo Escobar), better, but that’s my taste. Borriquito was a very simple song, but sometimes those big international hits don’t have much substance, lyrically or musically, as we all know, haha, just a catchy, careless flow, sometimes.

In other continents, the donkey does not always have a better image, and their dumb or stupid image unfortunately also recurs in parts of Asia and Africa, or as “simple” and “slow”, “A donkey that goes to Mecca is still a donkey”, is an unflattering saying in the Islamic world, while in some languages of Ethiopia (with quite some donkeys still) the stereotype in sayings is not so much about the donkey’s stupidity, as more about coarse, simple manners, and irresponsibility. At least there are some positive sayings in some Ethiopian languages (Amhara, Oromo) referring to donkeys too, besides negative ones. Some include also the hyena: the natural enemy of the donkey in African contexts. This explains that “canides” outside of Africa (dogs, wolves) became also the biggest enemies of donkeys. Hyenas after all belong to the canide family too.

In Jamaica, donkeys were long commonly used by peasants and small farmers, horses being considered for richer or white (British) people, as a Jamaican friend of mine told me from his youth. Despite the same (British-inherited?) “dumb image” of donkeys, they are more seen in practical terms, as needed - or even respected - part of country life.

The same applies in rural Cuba, where a “fun” Son song (El Burro De La Loma) even describes how the Burro (donkey) parties and dances along with the music. US singer (R&B) Chuck Berry also has such a theme (donkey dancing to its rider’s music) on the 1961 song The Man and the Donkey.

In old and new Jamaican Reggae and Dancehall, in Cuban Son, but also in music from Colombia or Mexico, or Dominican bachata, donkeys mostly appear in lyrics as part of rural stories, not always negatively.

In some, more lewd Reggae or Dancehall songs from Jamaica the “donkey rod” refers to a (supposed) “well hung” (big penissed) man, for that reason preferred by women. Like horses, donkeys are known for that (relative big penis).

Despite these widespread and international, often negative stereotypes of stupidity, the donkey’s remarkable natural qualities were used by men after domestication, for beasts of burden or other heavy work in agricultural and other areas (carrying goods – pack animals - , cultivation, plowing, sheep herding, even hiking nowadays). Humans make use of their endurance, strength, lack of fear, and good memories for terrains. Also their way of walking (crossing legs while walking) is quite unique, allowing passing through narrower spaces. In the same vein, donkeys move better through uneven, mountainous areas than horses. The “stupid” image is thus not even based in truth.

Despite this domestication, the donkeys remained more independent than horses. It was said in a documentary that they can be “educated, but not trained” – unlike other animals (dogs, horses), reminding of “cat-like” features. One Spanish saying therefore warns that a donkey should be in front, else it escapes. Like in Ethiopia, Spanish sayings about donkeys can be good, bad, and neutral.

All these “supposed” traits sound - in fact - like cool characteristics!

NUMBERS WORLDWIDE

According to recent sources, there are a total of about 45 million donkeys at present worldwide. Less than I thought, actually.

Recent numbers show that some African countries (Ethiopia, followed by Sudan) have relatively most donkeys, while also e.g. Pakistan, Mexico, and now also China (many imported recently), have relatively many. Ethiopia has about 19 % of the whole global donkey population.

In Europe, Portugal, Greece, and Spain have relatively most, but there has strongly diminished over time (industrialization, agricultural modernization). Sources suggest that around the Spanish Civil War (1936) there were still around a million (!) donkeys in Spain alone, with even distinct subspecies. Modernization and urbanization since then diminished this strongly to now only about 30.000, some sources state. Still more than in more northern parts of Europe, but a strong decrease, nonetheless, and now endangered in parts of Spain. That there were a lot in Spain, explains why my mother encountered them often in rural Spain in her youth. I hardly (very rarely) saw them growing up in (and travelling through) the Netherlands, from the 1970s to now. Recent numbers estimate the total number of donkeys in the Netherlands (as of 2023) at around 9000 (to compare: horses about 450.000!).

While not particularly known as having “vegetarian” cultures, in both Spain and Portugal, donkeys were seldom eaten, seeming to be eschewed there for meat, unlike other beasts of burden like goats. In countries like Ethiopia and Somalia in Africa, this (eating donkey or horse) is even more a taboo. In other parts of the world, though, like China, donkey flesh is eaten, and in Italy too. So differing even within continents.

This eating of donkey flesh and supposed medical benefits of hides in some regions (as China) diminished the donkey numbers too, besides urbanization. Especially, the high demand for donkey hides for the popular Chinese e-jiao “medical” products, led sadly many donkeys to the slaughter for commercial gain in Africa (sent to China) and later in India (also for the Chinese market), thereby also depriving poor rural people of their working aid. Recently, though, most African countries banned this donkey hide export to China.

In the Americas, predictably, donkeys came first with Spanish colonizers, it is said already on Columbus’ second voyage, and became over time more common in parts of Latin America and the Caribbean (Mexico, Colombia, but also islands like Cuba and Jamaica).

SENSE

So besides for having special and cool characteristics as animal – and I think an unjust image of dumbness -, my conga pattern imitating the donkey trot/galloping, in response to the Afro-Cuban caballo/horse pattern, also makes sense historically. Plus – as an African animal -, also with a connection to Africa, as much of Caribbean music. The pattern thus makes symbolic sense.

A different animal (even if of the equine family), the donkey walks and gallops different from the horse, so the pattern I invented is also different: the Burro pattern on congas “keeps its cool”, is prudent yet steady, fearless, adjusts to “rougher” environments, and works dedicated/loyally, yet independent. Indeed like the animal.

The pattern I created, emphasizes more the lower (“hembra”) drum, with only “one” higher “slap” on the higher (“macho”) drum – to compare: the A Caballo/horse pattern has two high slap sounds -, and the Burro further has in-between triple soft/ghost notes. Prudent and “cooler”, this Burro pattern, than the Caballo one, like the donkey is also known as "humbler" than horses. Ha!

Herein this video I explain/describe my Burro conga pattern in more detail, also in relation to the existing Cuban Caballo pattern:

My “burro” conga/percussion pattern - like the overall flexible donkey - also can be fitted – I found out - in many grooves and music genres. Straight-rhythm and/or swing-based. I only have not tried it out so much on Country: I listen and play less on Country, but the few times I did, I chose the Caballo/Horse pattern: a Cuban feel, while referring to cowboy life, haha. That while there exist Country songs about donkeys (Little Gray Donkey by Johnny Cash, a Christian song), but more about horses.

Besides that, I could fit the Burro pattern rhythmically on very different music genres, with some skilful adaptations, which is I think also nice for other conga or percussion players to try out (Blues, Rock, Reggae, Funk, Pop, Latin, you name it). Perhaps even Ethiopian music.. Fun – and appropriate - to start with songs with “donkey” in the title, like some already mentioned in this post, from different genres (search further on Youtube: this post has just some examples). Drummer Bernard "Pretty" Purdie’s ‘Funky Donkey’ I can e.g. recommend: groovy to play it on! Originally from 1968, this groove is said to inspire also the Jamaican Reggae riddim Death In The Arena..

Reggae music lovers (in the Netherlands): Michel Conci

How people got to be reggae music lovers or fans has always fascinated me. Maybe partly because reggae still is off/outside the mainstream, also in the Netherlands. It is not found that easily, let’s just say. It requires (to a degree) an extraordinary life path: that is, different from copying the masses, or simply following what’s commonly on television or the radio.

Reggae has of course since decades gone international and widened its fan base, but I have known individually quite different reggae fans within the Netherlands. Black and white (and Asian, or mixed etc.). Males and females. Old and young. Some with little education, some highly educated. Of different class backgrounds. Some combine liking reggae quite equally with other genres (e.g.: some with African, funk, soul, some with hip-hop, some even with non-black music genres), while others on the other hand adhere almost “strictly” to reggae music, and do not get into much else. Some like roots reggae more than dancehall or vice versa. There are even reggae fans – believe it or not - who do not smoke the “ganja herb”.

Furthermore, some have an interest or sympathy for the related subject of Rastafari, some do not, or even despise it. The latter, despise, I find somewhat odd since Rastafari is not the same as reggae, but is nonetheless connected to it.

These differences (and similarities) between and among reggae fans/lovers intrigue me, also in relation to personal backgrounds. That’s the reason why I would like to interview specific individuals who love reggae.

Before this I have interviewed 12 persons – reggae lovers I know, “breddas” (meaning “brothers”, or "friends" in Jamaican parlance) of mine – here in the Netherlands.

I started the series on this blog with a post of June 2012, when I interviewed Abenet. In April of 2013 I interviewed Bill. After this I interviewed Manjah Fyah, in May 2014. For my blog post of August 2015, I interviewed, somewhat more extensively, (DJ) Rowstone (Rowald). In August 2016, then, I interviewed Vega Selecta. In October 2017, I interviewed DJ Ewa. Then, for my post of September 2018, I interviewed for the first time a woman, namely Empress Messenjah or Empress Donna Lee. In August 2019 I interviewed another woman, namely Sound Cista. For my blog post of September 2020 I interviewed another Reggae-loving woman, French but living in the Netherlands, Selectress Aur'El. For my blog post of September 2021 I interviewed again a "bloke" (fun way to say "man") selecta Hobbol Backawall., and in my blog post of September 2022, I interviewed again a woman, Mystic Tammy. For the blog post of October 2023, I interviewed another woman, Eve Lien Dubwise.

ME, MYSELF, AND I

Most of these were selecta’s (dee-jay's, at events): I encountered them more, and were maybe more willing to go public openly talking about Reggae music. Some told more, some less. They had different backgrounds, so that was interesting.

After interviewing all these people in the “Reggae scene” (Amsterdam and around), with some recurring questions, I wondered if by now maybe I should ask my own questions to myself, instead of acting just as “distant” analyzer.

Some changes I personally went through, even since starting this series, so that adds substance. It also would give an overview also for myself, of the role of Reggae during my life.. “Since the day I know myself, I’ve been a drifter”, Dennis Brown sang on a nice song (The Drifter), but can we really know ourselves fully?

I am not even – mainly – a selecta/dj, yet I still was willing to do the interview with myself, haha. I am more a musical artist, but that will show from my answers underneath. Answers to the same questions I asked the interviewees mentioned before.

Where were you born and did you grow up?

I was born in Nieuw Vennep (behind Schiphol airport, 20km from Amsterdam, Netherlands), I grew up there until in my late twenties, after which I went to live in Amsterdam (West). There still.

Since when (age) do you listen Reggae music?

Around my 11th my brother got via another guy some cassettes (we're talking mid-1980s) with reggae albums. Listening together we got attracted to it. Bob Marley (Kaya) was on these cassettes, but also Peter Tosh’s Mama Africa, and some mixed/various artists tapes.

True, it started with “big names”, oh cliché, but some songs on Tosh’s Mama Africa appealed to me a at first a bit more than Bob’s songs on Kaya. In time I got to like Kaya too (songs like Misty Morning), but by then my brother had some more Reggae albums I liked, we both listened to (others by Bob, Wailing Souls - first album we heard: On The Rocks -, Eek-a-Mouse, Burning Spear, Half Pint, Don Carlos, Itals, etc.). Still in my teens. The love affair continued.. and became less and less commercial, haha.

All in that village Nieuw Vennep – with then about 15.000 inhabitants - , when I could not go out much. Perhaps my brother and I were already 30% of the whole Reggae scene of that village, haha..

What attracted you to it, then?

Partly the rhythm, I think. Plus (parts of) the lyrics, as my English was already quite good by then. Reggae had some spiritual and mystical energy, I then sensed and appreciated, interestingly combined with social comments or descriptions. Some philosophy too (Glass House, Misty Morning). I did not smoke weed then, or even later in my teens (started much later in my mid-20s), so the “ganja herb” was not the reason I liked Reggae, per se.

I have always been curious about other cultures, and the wider world, even as a child.. that helps..

What other music genres did you listen to?

My parents are Italian (father), and Spanish (mother), so Italian and Spanish songs were listened to when I grew up, and also Latin American music, or Flamenco-influenced music from South Spain. My mother liked to dance much more than my father, so listened also to Latin American music, or rhythmic flamenco, haha. My father listened to some (more classical) Italian songs too in the house. In his young days in N-Italy, he played the accordion quite well, and he had harmonica’s (which I of course tried out), so my dad had some interest in folk music as well.

Some of what I heard my parents played I liked – especially when a bit groovy -, and I understood Spanish. My brothers and I, though, sought other – Anglophone - (pop) music, on radio and tv, like funky music, rock, and pop. I remembered I liked some Stevie Wonder and other songs, and that James Brown groove. Until around 1985, when we both "discovered" Reggae.

Has there been a change in your musical preferences since then?

Well, I got through life changing, which naturally expanded my musical interest.

Some old-school hip-hop I liked through Yo! MTV raps (Kool Moe Dee, LL Cool J, BDP, Public Enemy, Slick Rick, PRT, De La Soul). I was around 15 years old, around 1989.

Some compilation albums of African music (sub-Saharan Africa), I borrowed from a travelling Spanish business man (whom my mother knew) – he was also “world wide vinyl music” collector -, with “pop” music from Congo and Burkina Faso, such as Soukous. Nice (Congolese) soukous songs on these albums. Nice polyrhythms. I recall further specifically the songs Dounougnan by Kambou Clement (Burkina Faso): nice mellow, “griot” vibe. For some (mystical?) reason this album made a lasting impression. It directed my musical eyes/ears more toward Africa. I was then about 17 years old.

Later trips to Cuba, since my later 20s (years 2001-2006) – I had friends there – further opened my musical horizon toward Afro-Cuban music, and Yoruba music, so again an African connection. It increased my interest in percussion instruments.

My older brothers got into some other music, introducing me to artists I did not know really, but kind of liked (jazz, jazzrock, Parliament, Bill Withers, Flamenco, Tom Waits, Jacques Brel, Red Hot Chilli Peppers, Nirvana, a.o). I liked some Blues, and songs by Paul Simon and Leonard Cohen too.

Yet.. I kept listening to (mainly) Reggae throughout all this, only interchanging and comparing more. Reggae remained my main path, you can say..

If anything, comparing with other Black music and African music itself was useful in understanding/overstanding the African retentions within Afro-Jamaican Reggae, even beyond the "shuffle" that is most known (call-and-response, polyrhythm, etc.). Interestingly, someone pointed at the fact that Reggae indeed shares some shuffle/swing aspects with Rhythm & Blues (which partly influenced it), but also some "straight rhythm" aspects from other parts of Africa (Central, Congo, etc.), adding to the feel of the groove. Good to know.

Do you have any preferences within the broad Reggae genre? Does, e.g., Digital Dancehall appeal to you as much as Roots Reggae?

I started with Roots Reggae, and some Early Dancehall. Roots Reggae attracts me most, still. I prefer conscious/social comment lyrics, and real instruments. Digital Dancehall appeals to me less, save some songs with good, energetic grooves (some songs by Beenie Man, Ward 21, Elephant Man, Chaka Demus, Bounty Killer, e.g.). I like it overall less, and follow it therefore less than Roots Reggae. Some Dub I like, but not all.

Within Roots Reggae, I like the harmony reggae classical groups (Abyssinians, Wailing Souls, Mighty Diamonds), and many great “old-school”, soulful singers (Hugh Mundell, Ijahman, Dennis Brown, Burning Spear, Jacob Miller, Junior Delgado), but I am thankful for the later Reggae Revival as well, as I certainly soon got to appreciate the work of “newer” artists like Richie Spice, Sizzla, Luciano, Bushman, Lutan Fyah, Queen Ifrica, Iba Mahr, Protoje, Ginjah, etcetera..

A high quality standard is luckily maintained within Jamaican (New Roots) Reggae up to now – good musicianship -, as well as the Rastafari message.

Since when are you a Reggae selecta/dee-jay?

Haha, I collected – quite informally – over time many vinyl records: just in case, but I also listened to CD. Via my brother and a friend I got more of a Reggae vinyl collection. When the vinyl scene came up, including with dee-jay/selecta events playing vinyl, I started to join them on some events. This started not long ago, around 2014, I think. I played the years after in some Reggae clubs (Café the Zen), other clubs, and squatter places in Amsterdam, but only occasionally (“open decks” events), up to now.

Do you have a preference for Vinyl or Digital/CD? As listener, and as selecta?

As selecta vinyl, but at home mostly digital, I must admit.. Sign of the times .. and no money for a good longplayer needle, haha..

That vinyl music sound is "fuller" than the digital sound, nonetheless, which is logical in some sense. My more technical (electrician) brother Carlos explained it to me once well: the digital counts and translated - also music - into 0-1-0-1 codes, as many may know (hence the word digit-al). On the other hand, what’s “analog” is more fluent, flowing..while what’s between the 0 and 1 digits gets lost..

Any special experiences or encounters over the years (e.g. with producers or artists)?

I before did not go often back stage at concerts. When I went to Jamaica, though, in 2006 and 2008, I soon got connected with Buju Banton’s Gargamel studio in Kingston, Partly by coincidence, believe it or not (long and strange story, never mind here..). There I met some musicians recording there (like Ghost): Buju was abroad then (Japan and Florida).

From there, they took me in 2008 on a visit to (then named) Judgement Yard, of Sizzla Kalonji, elsewhere in Kingston (August Town): a sudden visit, but Sizzla Kalonji himself was there. I remember that the guys that brought me were busy (buying fruit o.s.), so I was there alone a time and saw Sizzla walk: I got a bit shy, but dared to present myself to him. Someone beside him told him with whom I had come (“Buju people”), so that was cool. A cool memory from Jamaica.. As there were more..

Later, in more informal concert settings (between 2010 and 2020), such as organized by Café the Zen (a Reggae club in Amsterdam), I got to meet other Reggae artists a bit, often very friendly, but mostly short encounters: Vivian Jones, King Kong, Bunny Rugs, Warrior King, Fantan Mojah, Iba Mahr, Keida..

Meeting Warrior King walking with his cute baby on his arms, when I arrived on a rented bike with friend John (R.I.P.) to a beach venue on the Dutch island Texel (NW Netherlands),- where he performed in 2017 - is also a special memory, because of the whole context/location. That was a Zen Social Reggae-event (Island Vibes, 2017) on Texel: I never went to that island before. Vibes!

Are you active in other ways within the Reggae scene as well? E.g. radio, organizing events, design, or otherwise?

I do not organize events myself, though I have some ideas for it, haha. Some event organizers asked for my help for reggae and other events, and I assisted.

Further not much: I do not present a regular radio or online program with Reggae, though it would be nice.

On this blog I write about Reggae sometimes, and I also contributed some reviews to other web sites (e.g. reggae-vibes.com).

Do you play any musical instruments?

When younger I had some keyboard lessons and a keyboard. My older brothers chose to learn to play guitars (Spanish and bass) – including lessons -, but guitars attracted me less – something with finger tips on strings, dunno. Drumming and key riffs I liked more.

I in time especially took up percussion and drumming. Since childhood an interest, but trips to Cuba (the home of conga’s and bongo’s) after 2002, increased my will to play percussion instruments. It seemed to me then also freer and less “robotic” than the standard drum set/kit, which I also considered (and tried)..

I started to play conga, bongos, as well as djembe drums, and other African drum types, as well as smaller percussion (bells, shakers, scrapers), taking serious lessons in 2014 and around (with Vernon Chatlein, a.o.), to get a higher professional level. After that I played on the jam circuit in Amsterdam (Bourbon Street, Waterhole club, Maloe Melo, a.o.), where I could join and contribute, but also kept learning. I liked and like that free, jazzy ”jam vibe”.

I played (mostly percussion) on all kinds of jam sessions (not just Reggae) in and around Amsterdam, but Reggae still remained my main love, through all this. I just started to listen to Reggae more from a percussion perspective: including the important details in songs, like of the kete/binghi drums, cabasa shakers, scrapers/guiros, flexatone, bells, rattles, etc...

Later, I also tried to learn more about playing standard drum kit (called "trap drumming"), as timekeeper more ordered, but crucial in music. A bit also (nonpercussive instruments like) as said keys, harmonica, and guitar..

I play and rehearse with some Dutch Reggae bands too, on occasion (e.g. Flavour Coalition). I also recorded percussion in studios for other artists' songs, at times. Unfortunately, there is also a lot of nepotism - i.e. favouring friends or kin - in (Dutch) music scenes too (as elsewhere), so it has to go via-via.

Are you a composing or performing musical artist?

Yes, I always liked to “invent” songs, since childhood actually. I'm the "creative type", I guess. I soon started recording them, so had some vague ambitions. Worked out some full songs, and recorded them later with computer software (DAW), meanwhile learning more and more.

Songs I made to my satisfaction, I released later in the internet age through my Soundcloud and Youtube channels (https://www.youtube.com/MichelConci).. I like that free sharing possibility of my music, but did not think commercially. Many songs I made public on my YT channel. Only later, I started to release my songs through official channels (and buyable and streamable digitally). Lately through Tunecore, as indie artist, and Bandcamp (https://michelconci.bandcamp.com/)..

Rastafari Live On, recorded with Robert Curiel, was my “official release” debut back in 2010, and that was Roots Reggae.

Later releases of mine show more the influence of Reggae's "harmony groups" on me.

I mostly made and make Reggae songs, but am not restricted to it: I try to keep a wide musical horizon, also making “Latin” songs, Flamenco songs, African-influenced instrumentals, funky and (international) folk songs, besides Reggae-(like) songs and influences. The world is my province. Good spirit for percussionists, btw: they need to be multicultural. Besides: I-man "originate", and don't "imitate"..

I like making songs with my own instruments, in any case.

I sang some songs of mine on sound during events, but “perform” more as musician/percussion player during jam sessions in a few clubs.

Does the Rastafari message in much of Reggae appeal to you? How does this relate to your own background, or beliefs?

Yes. I consider myself to be a Rasta.

My parents were only "loose" and socialist-influenced Catholics, but still got me baptized. At other times my mom criticized the Vatican, so I was not really "raised Catholic", more like a heritage and cultural/social connection.

In time, first I became only a vague, loose “sympathizer” of the positive message of Reggae lyrics I heard. Around 2009, after having read some main works (e.g. by Marcus Garvey), and after travels to Jamaica, - and some trials and tribulations (loss and grief) – I became more spiritual. I not only started to wear dreadlocks, but saw these dreadlocks as a statement of faith, not as a fashion. I tried to be in the Livity since then, and am indeed vegetarian for instance. Naturality I find important. I now consider myself a Rasta.

Rastafari ideas further fitted well with my world view, upliftment of the poor goals (I before grew up with Left-wing ideas), and my longer interest in African culture.

Also the view of the “divine” as within (not outside) humans: the "I and I" notion, is also which I share and feel - Jah inna (hu)man, but is perhaps too revolutionary for many in this world of unequal relations (economics, religion, politics). This system after all is based on placing "authority" outside of yourself. It is good when a man can think for himself, as Burning Spear sings on the song It's Good (album Man In The Hills)..

Sometimes thus difficult, this spiritual journey in today’s Western society (Babylon), but I have to “carry Jah heavy load”, as Ijahman Levi sang. In my own way, as every individual, and I appreciate that space for individuality within Rastafari.

Haile Selassie’s wisdom I respect as well, including life philosophies, like of Marcus Garvey, and the Pan-African and African Diaspora connection have my interest.

Rastafari originated as a Black Power and resistance movement, within the African Diaspora, and "white" people joining the movement should at least know and respect that, I think. Some arrogance occurs, or white - to use a psychological term: "overcompensation", e.g. regarding tenets or Bible "teaching"/correcting, but mostly there seem to be mutual respect and openness within the Rastafari movement.

The songs I make as musical artist and release are lyrically and musically often influenced by Rastafari, directly or indirectly.

What kind of music (reggae) do you prefer to listen to now – at this moment -, what specific artists? Any new “discoveries” you would like to mention?

I listen to all kinds of Roots Reggae, old and new roots. Culture, Mighty Diamonds, Burning Spear, Wailing Souls, Black Uhuru, the Congos, Israel Vibration, Gregory Isaacs, Alpha Blondy.. Sometimes Alton Ellis and Ethiopians, including older Rocksteady.. That did not really change.

There was a period that I listened to older Roots at home, and newer Roots (Sizzla, Tarrus Riley, Anthony B., Morgan Heritage, Romain Virgo, Beres Hammond, etc.) mainly “inna di club” (and good to dance to).. Over time, though, that changed: I now listen to artists like Sizzla, Luciano, Richie Spice, Bushman, Junior Kelly, also at home, interchanging older and newer Reggae.

The Jamaican Reggae music scene is broad and varied, and alive, so there are always artists I did not know so well, or did not get around to yet.. Recently I got to like artists like Black Am I, Ginjah, Aza Lineage, and Reemah. An artist like Norris Man is around longer, but I got to appreciate his style more recently: saw him recently live for the first time. Good songs.

Stranjah Miller, whom I recently met in the Jamaica Lounge bar in Amsterdam, is also an interesting new roots-oriented artist.

Outside of Jamaican Reggae I like Tiken Jah Fakoly, Dezarie, Batch, Jah Defender (from Trinidad, nice songs), Chilean group Gondwana, Misty In Roots, and some Netherlands-based Reggae.

Other things you would like to mention?

Amsterdam is not a very Reggae-friendly city, let’s be honest, despite its image. Even less than before. Café the Zen club was a period an exception, besides some occasional concerts in venues like Melkweg or Paradiso. After Café the Zen closed in 2020, there were a time no regular Reggae parties in any club, despite enough Reggae fans in Amsterdam.. Even after music events/nightlife picked up after the lockdown/plandemic period, though some Reggae concerts were given in venues in Amsterdam and Amstelveen again since 2021 (incl. by Zen Social, the organizing branch of erstwhile Café the Zen).

Some café’s and initiatives were started in recent times, playing or supporting Reggae more regularly, Jamaica Lounge in Amsterdam West, Molli Chaoot in Amsterdam-De Pijp, and Earthworks - also studio - in Amsterdam (far) North, can be mentioned in this regard, but some more places might come up, I heard. In nearby Haarlem (where - btw - my parents met and married), the Patronaat venue also organizes more and more Reggae concerts, which is nice. So it’s now all a bit improving, which is better for the Reggae Community.

Stay blessed.

Tony Allen: autobiography of the founding drummer of Afrobeat

Biographies – and autobiographies – of “cool” musicians are definitely in my field of interest. What are “cool” musicians depends of course on one’s personal tastes and preferences.

WORLD OF THE COOL

Within this realm of my highly personal “world of the cool”, also the music of Nigerian artist Fela Kuti belongs. I am mainly a Reggae fan – follow that most – but have a broad interest in Black and African music. Kuti with his creation of Afrobeat – not to be confused with recent AfrobeatS –, since the 1970s, out of influences from jazz, funk, highlife, and local Nigerian Yoruba and other traditional African music, therefore fits my taste.

Plus, I am a percussionist, sometimes trap drummer (or playing other instruments: keys, harmonica, strings), so a drum- and rhythm-oriented musician. Partly via Afro-Cuba, partly directly, I studied Nigerian (and Benin) Yoruba traditional hand drums- and other percussion (e.g. bell/agogo and shekere) patterns, increasing naturally my interest for Fela Kuti’s music. I liked the funky grooves and call-and-response aspects, but the lengthy, jazzy escapades and solos, on many of his lengthy songs, I got less into. The lyrics and vocals in turn did appeal to me. So, a bit mixed, but overall I was and am positive about the interesting music of Fela ‘Anikulapo’ Kuti.

During this sideline/semi-marginal appreciation of Fela Kuti’s work, I also soon found out who was that groovy drummer on many of Fela’s songs was Tony Allen, like Fela, a Nigerian, and who was from Lagos.

All this made it “cool” for me to read an autobiography of this drummer Tony Allen. It is called: 'Tony Allen : an autobiography of the master drummer of Afrobeat' (Tony Allen w. Michael E. Veal), and was released in 2013. What follows is a review, from my above mentioned perspective: “somewhat” a Fela Kuti fan, and knowledgeable, but far from all-knowing, about Kuti or Allen..

AUTO

A difference with other musical biographies I read, is the “auto” aspect: this work is an autobiography by Tony Allen, in conversation with music researcher and journalist Michael E. Veal, who wrote several interesting works, on Fela Kuti, yet also on Dub and Jamaican music, with depth.

This work is however based on what Tony Allen told himself, only worked out as a coherent whole by Veal, whose writing style I like.

I did enjoy the read from the start, for its musical themes, but also for wider social, educational aspects, learning about the Lagos, Nigeria context: the big city, daily living, nightlife (important for musicians like Allen), Nigerian history and politics, postcolonial developments, class differences, and the music scene.

DIFFICULT RELATIONSHIP

The story of how Allen entered Kuti’s life, to become one of his main musicians in the 1960s, proved by itself also of high literary quality, as is the developing relationship with Fela over time. Several dramatic layers, and manifested behavioural psychology.

That “developing” – and problematic – relationship with Fela Kuti, is one of the main threads in this work, even though Allen also discusses his own, other musical efforts before and besides with Fela Kuti.

The difficult relationship with Fela, stems from Fela’s dominant role in his band, as main (long: only) composer of all parts: even if Tony Allen had a special status, Allen explains in the book: his drum parts were not pre-written, and got free reign (and trust) of Fela, to make them hismself.

The friendship and trust that this implies, as between old friends, should not be exaggerated, Allen shows in this autobiography. Fela tended to be self-involved, and, as Allen tellingly states: “did not follow ideas that did not come from himself”. Fela could also be selfish and envious, and untrustworthy, such as with the money he owed his musicians, also to Allen, resulting in increasing irritations.

The love of the music seemed to keep Tony working with Fela, and all of his ego, despite personal issues and difficulties. They also shared an early passion for Jazz. So friends with things in common, but Tony Allen did not like or understand all of Fela Kuti’s behaviours, or life choices, - and even at times felt personally wronged by him -, but musically they seemed in line with each other.

This is always an intriguing contradiction, I find, as music comes from one’s soul and personality – one would think -, so could be hard to separate from the same person’s behaviour. I guess it requires an abstract level of thinking, and the isolation of art, from often easily corruptible and confused human beings, and their weaknesses.

MARIJUANA USE

Certain substances, as often in music scenes, played a role in behavior changes. Fela at first eschewed marijuana/weed smoking, fearing overall its effects on music making, yet later turned around and smoked it more throughout his life and career, even becoming a proponent of its legalization. This heightened Fela Kuti’s conflict with Nigerian authorities, which outlawed weed smoking harshly, with draconian punishments.

Allen points in this book at different effects on different people of weed smoking, noting an extreme one on Fela, in that Kuti changed totally when he started smoking it (relatively late in life, and later than his band members), and that the “old Fela” since then even seemed gone. Tony Allen himself smoked weed regularly, he tells in this autobiography, though had to hide it sometimes. In earlier years, Kuti forebade and fined weed use by his musicians during gigs, but – again – made an exception for his friend Allen, whose weed routine Fela dared not touch. Fela told Allen that the weed to his surprise did not affect Allen’s drumming, and Allen argued in response that it even improved his drumming, in some sense.

I think the latter is open for debate. I personally think (and experienced) that “sense of rhythm” outweighs at all times physical or mental conditions (good or bad: joy, illness, sleep deprivation, drugs, etc.).. It’s too basic a natural thing.

YORUBA

An interesting thread in this autobiography, I find the Yoruba cultural heritage Fela and Tony shared. Allen’s mother was originally Ghanaian (Ewe ethnicity), but grew up in a Yoruba environment too. Both Fela and Tony came from middle classes, so received more European/Christian influences than others. Fela even more than Tony, but later – under influence of Black Power and African pride movements, picked up when the band was in Los Angeles, US, in the late 1960s, - Fela returned to that African heritage, to take distance from (neocolonial) European and British dominant influences. Culturally, spiritually, in life choices, political stances, lyrics, etcetera. Name changes, and open polygamy (he openly married several wives, living with them in a communal setting at the Kalakuta area, singing with him), followed, as became quite known.

Tony Allen did not go along so much – in all aspects - with this contextual “Africanization” process, as Fela perceived it, but still made music with him, and remained his (critical) friend. The original Yoruba religion or faith, (with Babalawo priets) was predictably one of the things Fela “returned to” for African revival. Allen knew those traditional beliefs in fact better than Fela, from his upbringing, but seemed more skeptical and critical about them than Fela, but that could relate to a stronger Christian influence on him.

What is therefore interesting, is that when Tony describes his trip to Bahia, Brazil, later in his life, he still appreciated that the religious culture of Yoruba descendants there (of Afro-Brazilians) – Candomblé, related also to Santería -, still seemed quite similar to that in Yorubaland itself. He especially praised the “polished”, but artistic version of the Yoruba spirituality, expressed in Candomblé, as less wild and “bloody” affairs than in Nigeria.

Whatever his stance on local traditional culture, with a Yoruba (and Ewe) background and cultural influence, the traditional “hand drum” and percussion patterns helped shape his rhythmic and trap drumming style, fitting a genre like Afrobeat, “Africanizing”, so to speak, Jazz and Funk (a.o.). Local African “pop” genres like Highlife and Juju (in turn of course influenced by African traditional music), also shaped his drumming from early on.

This Highlife was made with his band Koola Lobitos in the 1960s, around the period when he first met Fela Kuti. With Fela Kuti he was in Koola Lobitos making Highlife. I heard some of these late 1960s songs, and found them appealing and groovy in a “mellow” way, often lasting about 3 minutes, and not “long-ass” songs Fela would make later.

DRUMMING TECHNIQUE

Allen explicitly says in this autobiography that he kept traditional African aspects in his drumming, besides his adoration for US and other Jazz and Funk drummers, some of whom he met or worked with over time. The “Jazz” was mostly added in time, after the Koola Lobitos period, as a process of living and learning, and new inputs.

The relationship with Fela and other musicians – the environments, so to speak, - including of live shows in different places -, take more space in this book that his actual drumming as technique, but it receives some attention. Allen shows an interest in possibilities of the “hi-hat” - as part of drum kits - as influence from Jazz, adding texture to his drumming. As a separate rhythm on hi-hat is part of African polyrhythm structure and of African origin, it returned back within the diaspora, so to speak.

HI-HAT

That instrument, the “cymbals, is said to be originally from China, and via the Turks and Armenians travelled westward, and in time was incorporated by European folk groups, and finally entering pop music in the US, including Black music, mostly via New Orleans, by the early 1900s, when “modern drum kits” as we know them first appeared (around 1906). The playing styles of cymbals differ of course between Chinese/Asian, European fanfare music, and Black/African genres, showing an interesting grounding role of culture, and of mind over matter.

Tony Allen made the hi-hat more used and known in Nigerian drumming, especially as Fela Kuti became more famous, even worldwide, and Tony Allen helped shape the Afrobeat genre as such, by the 1970s. The famous Jazz drummer Max Roach was a main influence on his adding hi-hat, including lessons in the US (in Los Angeles), in the Late 1960s, by the famed jazz drummer Elvin Jones.

The hi-hat is a somewhat underestimated aspect in Black music, I think, or in music in general. Also, in most of Reggae music since the later 1970s up to the Reggae from “now” – especially from Jamaica – the hi-hat use in drum kits is crucial in the groove and riddims. In Bob Marley’s Reggae this was not so obvious yet, but hi-hat variations increased since then in Reggae. From current artists like Tarrus Riley, Luciano, and Beres Hammond, to Sizzla and Anthony B. Also the “crash cymbal” is now taken to artistic heights in dance-oriented Jamaican Reggae.

(I spoke recently with a Reggae drummer in the Netherlands - when jamming with my percussion with him on stage -, and who usually drums with Jampara and his BatalLion band. He confirmed how for Reggae in fact several “crash cymbals” tend to be required for drumsets, while the “ride cymbal” is in Reggae used less, but the hi-hat all the more.)

The hi-hat (and often crash cymbal) sometimes gets “lost in translation” when non-Jamaicans (like in Europe) drum Reggae (even if further quite apt), almost like a remaining “inimitable” Jamaican trade mark of Reggae, haha.

Tony Allen used the “ride cymbal” in turn relatively more (than usual in Reggae), while his jazzy, mellow groove, called less for the climactic “crash” cymbal, than in Reggae.

INIMITABLE

Not without self-aggrandizing, Tony Allen, also states that his developed Afrobeat drumming style – under as said various influences (African, jazz, funk) - could not be copied, for instance when drummers had to replace him.. and after he left Fela’s band (in 1979). Allen found it significant that after he left Fela’s band, Fela needed more percussionists alongside the trap drummer, only to achieve that “Tony Allen” rhythmic feel: so four musicians replacing what Allen could do alone.

He worked for 16 years with Fela: longer than with anyone else, Tony Allen states in this book. With ups and downs, and regular doubts about continuing. When Fela’s conflicts with Nigerian authorities increased, or when Fela’s behavior became difficult – payment avoidance - or an ego trip, even others around Tony advised him to leave Fela Kuti’s band, and further his own career. He hung on in there, mostly for the love of the music by Fela, and because they “went far back” as friends.

There is something both beautiful and tragic in this troubled relationship.

AFTER FELA

Even after leaving Fela Kuti’s band, in 1979, Allen remained friends with Fela, and met him regularly. He even visited shows of Fela with other band members, noting how Fela still came with new, good music, but that the drum part became a bit weaker than the sound he shaped with Fela for years. These later drummers with Fela used even patterns borrowed from Allen, on earlier songs, but never reached the same height, at least according to Allen, and some critics. Even Fela at times asked Tony to come back as band member, or play with him once more.. “Not that again”, was the main feeling of Allen at that point.

MIGRATION

The period “after Fela” of Tony Allen, is also a “migration” story, as Allen eventually settles in Europe, a while London, and more definitely in Paris, where he finally remained residing until his death at the age of 79, in 2020. Until 1984 he still lived in Nigeria, where political problems recurred.

He later married a French woman in Paris, and further continued making music, collaborating with various other musicians, active in other genres, but who admired Allen as founder of Afrobeat, when with Fela Kuti. He worked with African big names like King Sunny Adé, Manu Dibango, Hugh Masakela, but also with European and US artists, like French artists, Blur’s Damon Albern, the Clash’s Paul Simonon, Parliament/Funkadelic members, and several others.

He also recorded on albums of artists like Zap Mama (Belgian artist, born in DR Congo) and Charlotte Gainsbourg, to give more examples.

EXPERIMENTATION

Allen proved to be open for experimentation in this later musical stage, saying explicitly he wanted to renew and be challenged, and some albums were influenced by more modern, electronic music, Dub, Funk or Rap. That electronic music/techno was at first not a success, in Allen’s own views, as French “technical guys” used his patterns to trigger synth/electronic sounds from them, thereby violating and subduing his live trap drumming.

Later, with others, he found a better balance, with his own Afrobeat style kept more intact, with added electronics or Dub elements, such as for the NEPA and Black Voices (1999) projects/albums. On some songs of these albums you notice a vague Reggae touch, more often – though – the Dub aspects are in the echoing “technique” and production (mixing in and out/fading), rather than in a Reggae groove, with which Dub once originated. An interesting mix, nonetheless, of Allen’s subtle yet vibrant Afrobeat grooves, with modern electronics and genres.

Maybe, like European Dub as separated from Reggae, - or “jazz-rock” (like by Weather Report) - some songs on this album bring to mind - not everyone’s “cup of tea”, but at least Allen’s exquisite “rootsy” and groovy drumming ensured that such mixed albums maintained musical quality, and a solid, “rootsy” rhythmical base.. I personally am sometimes in the mood for such “Afro-jazz-rock” experimental instrumentals (like I sometimes am for a band like Weather Report), though maybe not always or every single day.

Such musical projects, and involved people, get much attention in this work, but also his personal life. The difficulties of migration and legal residence in France, and – as more often in musicians’ biographical works – substance abuse, beyond the marijuana/weed Allen was smoking for a long time already. Allen later had a problematic “heroin period” in France, with some hardships of getting rid of his heroin addiction’s draining effects on his body and mind. He achieved this, luckily, and began to feel “full of life” (libido, energy, etc.) again, after becoming clean.

He remained active as musician and performer up to his death at 79, in 2020, working with international artists.

ON BALANCE

Personally, I learned some new things from this autobiography, rendering it in this sense useful for me. I imagined a Yoruba influence on Tony Allen’s drumming, but there was apparently also a Highlife influence (and from Ghanaian, Igbo and other music), and how Jazz aspects were added more and more to his style, with the hi-hat as focus.

In the early part of the autobiography, an insightful part is when political troubles within Nigeria, interethnic tensions between Yoruba, Hausa, and Igbo, and the separation movement through Biafra of the Igbo, after oil discovery in SE Nigeria (around 1967). After independence from Britain (1960), these tensions slowly arose. Allen argues that politicians – still under economic control of Britain, by the way - stimulated this tribalism and interethnic tensions, hardly there before.

In the band of Allen there were Igbo and Yoruba. Around the mid-1960s an anti-Igbo rhetoric developed in the North of Nigeria among the Hausa, related to power grabs/coups of northerners and Igbo alike, and other power issues, taking among leading Hausa even racist-like, anti-Igbo, dehumanizing forms (comparing Igbo to animals like snakes), as racism usually does. When performing during this time in the North, with some Igbo band members, the Yoruba band members, like Allen and others, served as a “protective shield” for them, Allen relates.

These kind of 1960s stories of Lagos and Nigeria, by a touring musician, I found educational and vividly told, even if they were apart from the music itself, of course. On the strictly musical side of things, I got better insight into how Tony Allen helped shape this style known as Afrobeat in the 1970s, recording many albums with Fela Kuti’s Africa 70 band.

ORGANIC

It was – as with many genres – an organic and gradual cultural and personal process, living and learning among various musicians, musical changes and new influences, mixing or “synthesizing” these into new forms.

It is comparable to how Reggae developed from Ska and Rocksteady in the late 1960s, Bossa Nova mainly from Samba and Jazz, Cuban Son and Rumba from Congo and Yoruba (and Spanish) patterns, later Cuban Timba (1990s) from Salsa/Son and Funk, Rock & Roll once from R&B mixed with “white” Country music, Soul once from Gospel and R&B.

The Ghanaian Highlife in which Allen more or less started playing in the 1960s, itself also mixed Akan/Ghanaian and African traditional elements with elements from Palm Wine music in British colonial Africa, Calypso, Cuban “guajeo” (a repeated semi-rhythmic guitar pattern), and European music.

Interestingly, with the addition of a strong (US) Jazz influence to the highlife and other genres – a shared passion of Tony Allen and Fela Kuti – Afrobeat developed in the 1970s in Nigeria, but besides a logical outcome or, “sign of the times”, also individual attitudes and creativity played a role, besides being a Jazz fan.

Though Tony seemed less a “wild and crazy” creative artist-type than Fela, and more technical/practical and level-headed as a person, Allen still gave way to his individual creativity – as said allowed by Fela – in his drum additions, shaping Fela Kuti’s albums’ Afrobeat sound.

What set this apart, and made Tony Allen thus so unique – and influential! - as trap drummer, even across genres? Well, Allen says about this (quoted from this autobiography):

“Forget about this fight you want to put on the drums. Don’t fight the drums, just deliver coolly. I don’t like using force to play the drums, , because I know when I have to hit them hard. I know when I want something to be stronger. So I’m playing in between – it’s like a kind of caressing..”,

Later on:

“When I was learning to play highlife from Ojo, I decided that I wanted to be a smooth drummer, not a noisemaker…” “ I saw that the drums had different tones. And you must make those tones relate – it’s just like singing”.

SMOOTH OR PUMPING

Indeed, it is this “smooth” sound, mixed with a jazzy “conversational” style (dialoguing with other instruments, from the local polyrhythmic tradition), which makes Allen’s drumming style “subtle” when compared from what we know from other African Diaspora/Black music, sounding more, well, “pumping” – for lack of a better word -, groove-wise.

As a “rhythm” musician (percussion, drums), I found it still interesting, and of course also tried Tony Allen’s drumming patterns out myself, to get in that type of Fela-like Afrobeat groove. I enjoyed that subtlely and finesse sometimes.

Yet, I myself - while having had jazz influences – have been overall more used to “pumping” (for lack of a better word) grooves from Reggae, straight-up James Brown-like Funk, Afro-Cuban Rumba, and “pre-jazzified” Yoruba and Igbo traditional music (conversational/polyrhythmic, but more “thunderous” than “smooth), that influenced my percussion playing. Allen’s drum was, by the way, also often “softer” in the sonic mix than in these other genres.

The drumming in Reggae, for instance, has a direct relationship with the Bass guitar (usually the chording instrument), as a “marriage” which involves conversation, but as much “coming together” and unisono. In a practical sense: bass line accents and drum accents fall on the same count, to keep that pumping groove going, similar to how “the one” (of 4/4) functions in James Brown funk (accentuated by main instruments), though in Reggae, that accent is often also on the Third (or Second, in double time), and often a bit on the One.

There are different drummers within Reggae too, with different drumming styles. Interestingly, Bob Marley’s and the Wailers drummer, Carlton Barret, had a style more similar to Tony Allen (more jazz-like shuffle), - smoother, less “pumping” - while other equally great drummers in Reggae had more “straight” rhythms, alongside these shuffle/swing aspects (Style Scott, Sly Dunbar, Santa Davis, Horsemouth), more as in the Congo tradition.

The wide variety in Black/African Diaspora music, let’s just say. The difference between the Swing (originally Guinee/Mali region) and Straight Rhythm tradition (Central Africa, Congo, “forest Africa”), influencing to differing genres the various Afro-American genres. I discussed this before on this blog.

Yorubaland is more in that “straight rhythm” (“forest Africa”) tradition, originally (like Congo/Central Africa), but the strong Jazz influence (shuffle, swing) on Tony Allen, and his personal roots and interpretations, rendered his drumming indeed of an unique style, which he maintained up to his death in 2020, and influenced others, also outside of Afrobeat. Jazzy and smooth, yet groovy.

Recommendable reading.

Celtic retentions in Italy and Spain

In common parlance, the countries Italy and Spain, are not known as “Celtic nations”: that is more associated with certain marginal areas, be it independent “countries” of the British isles (Ireland, Scotland, and Wales), with often added French Brittany (Bretagne), part of France. This is mostly a linguistic definition, as there Celtic languages survived to varying degrees, but with often a cultural connotation, due to certain nationalistic/cultural – or now “identity” – movements. Leaving linguistics apart, often parts of Northwestern Iberia (Galicia, Asturias, and surroundings) are – due to their folk culture characteristics - often part of a broader “cultural” definition of “Celtic nations”, even though speaking (now) Romance languages.

VAGUE

Here it becomes more problematic, or rather vague. Spain, Portugal, and Italy, but even most of France, are more known as (similarly vague) “Latin” countries culturally, whatever that may mean, but mostly linguistically determined. Parts of Northern Italy (Lombardy, Piemonte) – including in nationalist “Northernist”, separatist circles (Lega Nord political party), self-define often as with (largely) Celtic roots, to distinguish themselves from other parts of Italy.

Similarly, Galicia and Asturias in Northwestern Spain, claim their Celtic roots to set them as regions apart from other parts of Spain. Some critics of this, also within Galicia and Spain itself, argue that this is largely a later “fabrication”, and that Galicia’s “celticity” is a myth, something like an all-too-inventive “identity” search, based on little. Even that is not so uncommon: culture and ethnicity do seldom combine fully one-on-one, as e.g. the spread of Islam shows, and other “dominating” cultures throughout history, adopted by subjects, at least partly. DNA studies confirm this in many cases.

“Based on little” - this Galician “celticity” as supposed myth - is, I think, too much to say. There is evidence of Celtic presence in large parts of Spain, including in Galicia. Whether this remained “pure” or soon mixed is another issue.

DNA

Historical studies, and (since the 1950s) historical DNA studies gave some interesting insights into this “Celtic” history. It also shed light on what is “substantially proven” about Celtic roots, and what “myth”.

Strictly looking at DNA, genetic remainders in current indigenous populations, make present-day France much more a “Celtic nation” than neighboring, more Mediterranean Italy or Spain. Folk traditions and cultures that survived even outside of “Celtic stronghold” Brittany in France, notably in Central France and the Auvergne and Alpine region, confirm this culturally, if not linguistically (safe in substrate influences in language formation).

I find these genetic/DNA studies interesting from a historical perspective, as it shows how “traditional culture” develops in tandem, yet partly isolated from “genetics” as such, showing human agency, despite it.

The problem is only that – according to geneticists - “Celtic DNA” is not always distinguishable from other European populations, including the Latins and Romans (who became influential), but also Basques, or older groups present in Western Europe, upon Celtic arrival. By comparison, a Germanic DNA – more to the North - was easier to distinguish, studies showed, to show ethnic origins in certain parts of Europe, as was a “Slavic” DNA. Celts seemed more mixed from the start.

It might very well be that forefathers of the Celts (oldest sources date it to the Ukrain/Russia area), soon mixed with older peoples moving west, while the culture was still developing. Historians claim that in the Western Alps (Switzerland, NW Italy) – in a later stage – some cultural - and linguistic! -Celtic traits came to the fore, but not all that would later be known (like bagpipes, round brickpatch fortress houses, etc.). It was still changing, as cultures are never static.

DILUTED

The countries where my parents are from (father Northern Italy, mother Southern Spain) have proven, historical “Celtic” presence, but much more regionally limited and diluted than in France. Pure races or genetic peoples don’t exist (despite Nazi and other “race purity” rhetoric: also the Germanic tribes absorbed present people in Germany, Netherlands, Denmark, etc.), but one can say that Gauls (Celtic-speaking peoples in France) are among the “main foreparents” of most indigenous French, percentage-wise.

This cannot be said of neither Italy or Spain. The irony is maybe that one of the oldest “documented” Celtic languages and peoples found by historians - deep in pre-history - were as already mentioned traced to the Italian-Swiss border region, in NW Italy. For that reason, the “Alpine type” as genetic marker of a Celtic physical European type, is named as such (though as said, often hard to distinguish from others). It seemed that the very basic elements of Celtic culture were shaped partly in those (now Italian/Swiss) Alpine regions, before spreading to other parts of Europe. It differed from both the Germanic/Teutonic cultures more to the North, Slavic or Dinaric peoples to the East, or more “Mediterranean” peoples to the South, with sometimes not even Indo-European languages (Basque, Etruscan, Iberian, a.o.).

The Roman empire had a strong influence, culturally and linguistically, due to their domination up to around 400 AD, making also regions where once Celts lived Romance speaking. Further migrations and historical connections diluted this relatively “distinct” Celtic culture.

FOLK CULTURE

Yet: in folk culture aspects remain, albeit mixed. Traditional music and musical instruments seems the best, and most honest, evidence of this, as some aspects were there before a partly “artificial” Celtic identity was called upon for political/nationalist reasons (just copying examples from e.g. Ireland or Brittany). There are – in other words – actually a few Celtic folk culture/music/tradition “remnants”, truly indigenous, in parts of NW Italy or NW Spain (and Northern Portugal), before a “Celtic international identity” became a rhetorical/political issue.

Both parts of Lombardy (like Bergamo) and Galicia, for instance, have their own “bagpipes”, differing from the Scottish or Irish ones, just like several regions within France have own bagpipes. France is by the way the country with the most and most varied “bagpipes” in Europe, many people may not know. The ones in Brittany and Auvergne are just best known. While bagpipes are in origin not a Celtic instrument per se, they relatively early in history were adopted as such, and certainly “celtified”.

The same applies to some “old” dance and song forms, recurring musical structures (e.g. chord “jumps”), and some other instruments associated with Celts, such as harps, frame drums, fiddles (in some areas), and the “hurdy gurdy” string instrument (a bit fiddle-like as well – due to drones – bagpipe like), found in e.g. Galicia, and Northern Italy (as in Auvergne, France).

Here the “vagueness” comes in. Bagpipes are common in, yet not exclusive to, Celtic cultures, as also found among Slavic and other peoples (e.g. Arabs), neither are the fiddle, harp, or even the hurdy-gurdy, also found in Hungarian culture, and among Slavic peoples. The frame drums are traditionally common in Northern Africa (most common among Berbers), and later also in Spain and Italy, and probably meant an early international influence on the travelling Celts. The Celtic peoples after all once extended from what is now Turkey, in Anatolia, westward through Romania, The Northern Balkan, the Alpes region, France, to Ireland. Probably the most heat-resilient Celts went to Anatolia or Iberia.

ABSORBED

On the border regions – or where other ethnic groups were more numerous – they encountered and mixed with e.g. Germanic peoples in N. France, Belgium, and South Germany, Etruscan and Venetian peoples in Emilia-Romagna and Trentino/Veneto (NE Italy), and Basques and Iberians in southern France and the Iberian Peninsula.

Where Celts became more dominant (numerically or culturally) present populations with older DNA were absorbed by the Celts, including those that built the “dolmens” stone structures (similar to Stonehenge), later adopted by the Celts.

Such stone structures pre-date the Celts, but also Germanic peoples, as similar “dolmens” as in e.g. Galicia or Wales, are found in England (Stonehenge), as well as the province of Drenthe in the Netherlands, pre-dating Germanic/Saxon arrival, as the Netherlands became primarily Germanic/Teutonic (absorbing also present people).

That is why historical DNA studies, developed since the 1950s, are interesting. They contradict the Nazi “purity” idea of Germanic peoples, discarding both the purity and – of course! – the supposed “superiority” to all other people and racial types in the world, as nonsense. On the other hand, these same studies did confirm the existence of a typical “Germanic” DNA. Of course not in any way that it meant that they were a “superior” Herrenvolk. A Celtic DNA proved harder to define, though with indications.

In Central and South Spain and Portugal, Celts arrived, but found more numerous and culturally advanced groups (Phoenician/Carthaginian/Egyptian/Iberian-influenced). The Iberians and Tartessians/Phoenicians – speaking proto-Semitic languages in part - in Iberia had a writing system and more advanced societies with links to the Mediterranean and Egypt. Thus arose the Celtiberian culture in Central Spain, while in South Portugal and South Spain (even in parts of Western Andalusia and Extremadura Celtic groups arrived since around 600 BC) larger groups had to be absorbed by the Celts, or rather: the other way around, though Celtic languages kept being spoken.

Genetically and culturally, as the culture became more Mediterranean/Semitic, later Roman and Moorish, in South Spain and Portugal. Few Celtic cultural remnants remained in Southern Spain, safe certain customs and place names, while in more isolated, less-dominated areas, like NW Spain (Galicia and Asturias) and bordering N Portugal, these Celtic influences on traditional culture seemed stronger, and still living on. In rural architecture, as already mentioned music and dance, festivities, other customs and beliefs, albeit influenced by Roman and later Central Spanish and international culture. It gave regions like Galicia and Asturias their own characteristics within Spain.

BAGPIPE REGION

As in Africa you have a specific, restricted “Djembe region”, where that type of drum is traditionally played, mostly Mande-speaking, Sahel areas from Senegal to Northern Ghana, in Europe (and Spain) you also have a Gaita (Spanish for “bagpipe”) region, limited mostly to the Northwest of Spain, and bordering areas. The non-Celtic speaking Basques know a type of “bagpipe” too, as does more Iberian Aragón, but Galicia and Asturias (and parts of Northern León and Castile) are most known for and specialized in it. Bagpipe (Gaita) use is Spain thus mostly connected to regions with Celtic pasts.

Other “stereotypical” Spanish instruments, like the Spanish guitar (Andalusian in origin), and the castanets (percussive, wooden clappers) are more associated with Central and Southern Spain, with the Castanets – probably originally from Egypt - dating back to the Phoenicians or before. Tambourines (and later with national unification also Castanets) tend to have spread more peninsula-wide from early on. Bagpipes/gaitas remained regional.

LINGUISTICS

Linguistically, Celtic languages disappeared in Spain and Portugal, safe loanwords. The what they call substrate influence (shaping new languages from older spoken ones) of Celtic tongues are found in the developing Galician languages (later developing southward into Portuguese), and Asturian dialects/languages, but less in Castilian Spanish, which had more Basque as substrate influence. The early Kingdom of Castile bordered Basque areas, soon outweighing Celtic connections.

Substrate influence of Celtic languages have also been confirmed through studies in some other Romance dialects, such as in Lombardy, Piemonte, or Emilia (NW Italy) – known even as Gallo-Romance languages -, Central France, but also in specific German accents/dialects in SW Germany (Schwaben), the Alsace, and Switzerland, and types of English in NW England and Scotland.

Languages/dialects in Northern Italy like the Lombard and Piedmonte languages have, like French, the “u” sound as in English picTURE, or French Bien SUR, or close to this as in English FUR or French LEUR. Formal Spanish or Italian don’t have those sounds: only the open latin vowels, but French and Gallo-Italian dialects like Lombard do: it must be due to stronger Celtic substrates there. Neither does Galician or Asturian, but they have similarities with Gallo-Italian dialects/languages, that Spanish lacks: vowel extension or change, for instance, and the common, “slissing” “sy” sound.

I find interesting that certain phonetic or grammatical “pan-Celtic” characteristics somehow recur between French, Lombardian, Schwabisch Deutsch, and , say, Scottish English. More “long-voweled”, “meandering” or semi-mumbling “sing-songy” is sometimes said, while the “nasal” element in French, or (hinted at) in e.g. Irish or Galician/Portuguese probably are also Celtic in origin.

Formal Italian developed in Tuscany, so was probably Etruscan (non-Indo-European/Anatolian)- influenced, while Latin of Rome developed from local, more Mediterranean Italic groups in Central Italy. Evidence showed that Celtic groups actually reached parts of Italy South of even Rome, but as a less influential minority, not unlike Southern Spain.

REGIONAL

One can conclude that the Celtic influences in Italy and Spain remained regional – rather than national -, reflecting in local folk culture primarily. DNA studies give an indication, but no guarantee. Celts absorbed local (Neolithic) groups to differing degrees and mixed somewhat more than e.g. Germanic/Teutonic peoples, and DNA-wise, the Basques differ only in some details from surrounding peoples (linguistically much more), Celts or otherwise, while the genetic difference between SW Spain (where Celtic-speaking people lived) and Eastern Spain (where Iberians lived) is remarkably small, shaped throughout history, with admixture of Germanic peoples, Phoenicians, Carthaginians, Romans, Moors (Arabs, Berbers), Jews, and internal migration. Genetically, it is as usual all very mixed, with some regional accents. That accent is there in Galicia and Asturias, but even there Moorish DNA entered (via later migrations, is assumed) and after the Romans, in the 5th c AD, also Germanic DNA by Suevi and Goths in Galicia (part of so-called “Barbaric” Nordic hordes invading the fallen Roman Empire).

That “Germanic” DNA, that exists as distinguishable, according to scientists, is less common in Spain than elsewhere in Europe, even lower than in Italy (less than 4%, is estimated). The genetic maps earlier in this post showed that. Some parts of Galicia (Suevi), Northern Portugal, and Catalonia (Franks, Goths) have relatively higher Germanic DNA percentages, and even – according to strange studies – more “blond” hair and blue eyes. This percentage never surpasses about 8 % though, while the Celtic DNA (though harder to distinguish as said) attributed much more to Spaniards (around 30%, they think), representing thus a connection to France and other parts of Europe, though not an overwhelming one.

Not overwhelming (and with a lot of genetic admixtures over time, as elsewhere), and in this sense the DNA more or less correlates with Celtic folk culture in Spain and Italy. Not really a central part of either Italian or Spanish “national culture”, but confined to regional folk culture, to which attest in specific regions e.g. the bagpipe music, specific folk songs and music styles, material culture, like housing and clothing, and folk spiritual ideas (Celts had a magical bond with trees, woodlands, and nature, the oak being a sacred tree, for instance, wood spirit stories, etcetera. And Galicia and Asturias are in a “green”, wooded part of Iberia).

Galician/Asturian, but also Lombard and Piedmonte folk music in Northern Italy preserves some of this, also used as “revival” by modern composers or musical artists and singer/songwriters, such as Angelo Branduardi, who draws on folk traditions, also from Lombardy, and several artists from Galicia and Asturias, even “pop” artists like Asturian-born Victor Manuel, drawing at times on Asturian folk bagpipes or song styles, or revival “fusion” groups in Galicia, like Milladoiro, or more modern local pop/rock (and even hip-hop) groups using Gaitas and folk music. An example is the Galician hip-hop/pop group Os Resentidos.

TRIBUTE

Regional as it remained, this Celtic heritage in NW Spain still received somewhat of a tribute on the famous album by Miles Davis, Sketches Of Spain (1960), on which the Jazz artist/trumpeter explored several Spanish “known” folk genres. Besides a predictable emphasis on Castile and Andalusia on this album, due to the rich and influential legacy of genres like Jota, Fandango, and Flamenco, one song of that album – or rather: instrumental composition -, called The Pan Piper, is based on more marginal and local folk music from around Vigo in Galicia, a style known as Alborada.

The counter-patterns and –melodies to Miles’ trumpet on the track The Pan Piper, show these Celtic musical (meandering/chord-jump) forms, still characteristic in much Galician folk music, and certainly comparable to other Celtic music (e.g. of Ireland, rural Lombardy or France, etc.).

Equally interesting are similarities between two “pop” songs by Italian Angelo Branduardi – his “big hit” Cogli La Prima Mela, and the song Quiero Abrazarte Tanto by Spanish singer Victor Manuel, both drawing loosely, if recognizably, on Celtic traditions from their regions (Lombardy and Asturias, respectively), combined with other influences (folk, rest of Spain/Italy, pop, rock, Latin American, etc.). They are both catchy, lively, and danceable songs, by the way.

At the very least, in parts of Northern Italy and Northern Spain – especially rural parts - a genuine Celtic-influenced folk culture was indeed kept alive, beyond mere “inventions of tradition” for politicized, nationalist/regionalist identity ideologies (such as by Lega Nord or Galician nationalist groups), making it in part a real, non-artificial cultural retention (albeit sometimes modernized/mixed) in these parts.

Some musical artists use this heritage well, giving the world their art, as happened more often, such as with the African retentions to differing degrees in “Black” music from the Americas or modern African pop genres, South Spanish “Flamenco-pop”, or Indian/Bhangra- or Arab-influenced modern pop.

Use what you got and know from your culture to shape your art, seems to be a lesson here.

FAKE?

Finally, I come back to the critical claim – even within Galicia - that Galicia’s supposed cultural “celticity” – with after all unlike Brittany, Ireland, or Wales NO surviving spoken Celtic language – is a mere “myth”. In other words: actually “fake”, as the critique goes. I think that this accusation of “myth” or “fake invention” may sound spectacular and assertive, but is at least exaggerated and simplistic. Simplistic, because people with that critique forget that “cultural formation” – of many peoples in this world - involves mixture and adoption over time, and indeed the Celts from early on – way in European pre-history, showed this flexibility, when interacting both with changing natural environments and other peoples. Over time something like an own “Celtic culture” formed, which stood apart from “ethnic purity”.

That latter romantic, racial “purity” idea was common in parts of Europe in the Early 20th c., and also the German Weimar Republic, mixing with Romanticism as cultural movement. It became less “innocent” when it – according to historians – influenced Nazi and other (e.g. Italian) Fascist ideologues connecting “race” and culture, and this in turn with “superiority”, e.g. power politics.

Though a Germanic DNA seems to exist according to geneticists, it is historically (geographic travelling, conquering patterns) and maybe culturally interesting, but not much more than that. It shows funnily that the English share more DNA (mostly Germanic) with the Germans than many English would wish to have (since Hitler and WW II), haha. Similarly, while Dutch and Flemish people in my experience are more realistic and quite reasonable about their Germanic heritage (less absurd denial), after WW II and the Nazi German invasion of the Low Countries, a “Germanic identity” as a nation is seen as a bit contaminated in the present-day Netherlands, and, in an international world, also too limited.

That Celtic cultures seem to have a stronger folk culture and music than the more meager heritage of Germanic peoples (Irish are known as more musical than English), but parts of Germany, Scandinavia, and the Netherlands, do have own (also musical) customs. Perhaps earlier industrialization/modernization of Germanic peoples limited their folk culture, compared to more rural and marginal Ireland, Wales, Galicia, Auvergne, or Italian Alps.

Or – also possible – the earlier mixing, travelling and adopting early on (since 2000 BC) by Celts, when travelling through Central Europe, later to more populated Western and Southern parts, enabled flexibility, in turn inspiring a richer and more varied culture. A matter of human agency in cultural formation and distinction. There is nothing wrong with that. It is in fact the very flexible creativity that tends to give birth to the intriguing variety of folk culture world wide..