Ghana percussion compared

I guess my focus on West African percussion was till now a bit (not exclusively) toward what is now Southern Nigeria, the Yoruba and Igbo cultures, partly due to the African Diaspora connection of Yoruba culture with Cuba and Brazil. I started with Afro-Cuban percussion (the well-known Conga and attached smaller Bongó/Bongos drums), among other small percussion instruments, like bells, scrapers, etc., and later wanted to learn more also about Afro-Brazilian percussion. The knowledge about the latter (Brazilian percussion) is not yet as profound, but the comparison between Afro-Cuban and Afro-Brazilian percussion I find intriguing; both the similarities and differences, even within partly shared Yoruba and Congo African retentions.

CUBA/BRAZIL COMPARED

You have percussion instruments common to Cuba and Brazil, partly of Yoruba origin, such as the Shékere shakers, but - on the other hand - the shékere-derived, more metal (beads)-based, Cabasa developed in Brazil, not in Cuba. You have hand drums that are quite similar, such as the Conga-resembling drums used at Capoeira dances, and the shape similarities between the Brazilian Timbau drum and Bocu drum in Eastern Cuba (conical, like the Yoruba "Ashiko" drum). Other drums are more unique for either Brazil (small frame drums, big bass drum) or Cuba (Conga, Bongó a.o. ).

More interesting differences within percussion use between Brazil and Cuba, in general, can be mentioned, such as the much more use of “tambourines” and small frame drums in Brazil - less used in Cuba -, or the double bell (agogo) common in Brazil and Samba, and known in Cuba, but used less than the single bell. More specifically, you have instruments in Brazil that were not in Cuban traditions, and vice versa.

Interesting indeed, yet not the theme of this post. It might become a topic for one of my blog posts – comparing Brazilian and Cuban percussion in more detail - , but I need to study it a bit more.

ANOTHER COMPARISON: GHANA AND NIGERIA

Instead, I opt now for an –admittedly preliminary – comparison of traditional musical and percussive cultures within Africa, between two regions: Southern Nigeria, which I have studied before more profoundly, and Ghana, which I have studied less.

I emphasize that it is the traditional music, original folk, I focus on, and I know that cultures are dynamic. Both Ghana and Nigeria have rich, vibrant (modern) musical cultures in the present, since decades using traditional folk styles for modernized “fusion” pop genres, with foreign (Jazz, Funk, Hip Hop, Reggae) ones, since the rice of Highlife in Ghana already from the 1870s, as an early “Pop” genre, including Western Jazz influences, spreading also to other countries like Nigeria.

The fusions continued and modernized since then more up to the present, but always with references to and influences from traditional music forms (Akan, Yoruba, etc.), mixed now with later Western of Afro-American genres (Funk, House, Dancehall, Hip Hop), resulting presently in a commercially quite successful genre like Afrobeats (a.k.a. “Afro pop”), and derivatives like Hiplife, popular among youths in both Ghana and Nigeria. This genre “Afrobeats” (some prefer the term “Afro pop”, for its confusion with Fela Kuti’s Afrobeat genre),even internationalized in recent times, with commercially successful artists like (Nigerian) Burna Boy.

TRADITIONAL MUSIC

I am now, however, more interested in the traditional culture, after all the local “folk music” base within all these fusions, also instrument-wise.

I know by now quite something about (South Nigerian) Yoruba and Igbo drums, for instance, and other percussion instruments they use, and their differing contexts. I even own and play some of them regularly (Udu, Shékere, Ashiko, Ekwe log drum), studying others more theoretically, but ardently. There is overall a strong Yoruba and Igbo influence on my percussion playing.

Other percussionists I know, also in the Netherlands, seemed to have specialized more in the Mande-regions (Guinee, South Mali, Senegambia), especially those playing Djembe (and Dundun) drums. I myself only a bit, and in part. Congo region percussion (also with retentions in the Americas), I wanted to study, but found too little (online) resources, unfortunately. Still other percussionists choose to focus on Indian or Middle Eastern percussion – often people with that background themselves -, but let’s focus on Africa now.

There’s not much more to it: I just did – on the other hand - not get around to pay as much attention to Ghanaian instruments: other priorities, obligations, time limits, etcetera, etcetera. That while there are by now quite some sources to study it online.

The underneath documentary shows some examples of instruments and playing of Ghanaian traditional music (Ashanti and otherwise) in present times, while discussing whether traditional music is endangered in modern day-Ghana, as it was affected since colonialism, and now by Western cultural influences.

AMERICAS

There is a link of what is now Ghana, and its Akan people (one of the main peoples in Ghana), with the Americas, as relatively many Akan or related slaves ended up in some colonies, notably parts of Jamaica, Suriname, Bahamas, and Guyana. It is assumed – with however deficient accuracy – that over 40% of enslaved Africans in Jamaica were Akan (called often Coromantee), having left a mark in Jamaican language/patois, folk culture, and indirectly in later music genres and practices (eventually Reggae), in rhythmic patterns, call-and –response vocals, and other aspects.

The same applies in Suriname, where remnants of Akan/Ghanainan languages are even still found among Maroon (escaped slaves) populations, belief systems, as well as drum types, rhythmic structures, etc. In the short video underneath, a Ghanaian finds out a Maroon of Cromanti/Akan descent (in Suriname) still can communicate in his language.

This has been studied quite well by now, but less known is probably the fact that also in Puerto Rico, parts of the southern US, and even more unknown in the Pacific Region of Colombia, Western Venezuela, there were Akan-speaking slaves from the Ghana region, helping to shape local Afro-Colombian or Afro-Venezuelan musical cultures.

Some find it in Puerto Rico’s Bomba genre (with indeed barrel-like drums as in Ghana), and in rhythms in the Pacific state of Chocó in Colombia.

All good and beautiful examples of cultural (African, in this case Akan) resilience, despite the horrors and dehumanization and deculturalization efforts of slavery systems in the Americas.

What is, however, the original percussion culture and tradition of Ghana itself? Is it as rich and varied as, e.g., the Yoruba percussion culture I already know?, are aspects (spiritual, material) comparable between these musical cultures, in both these former British colonies? How does it musically/percussively compare/fit within the wider region? These questions I try to answer now (somewhat), after some additional study.

HISTORICAL CONTEXT

First, broadly some contextualizations. Ghana and Nigeria are geographically not so far apart, comparable to the distance between, say, the south of France and the south of Spain. The whole region is however quite varied, with in between Benin and Togo (former Dahomey), the Fon Ewe people, with their own culture, and various peoples and cultures within Nigeria and Ghana itself. Later, different colonizers caused some “cultural distance” between francophone Benin and former British colonies Ghana and Nigeria, also influential in Anglophone African pop genres (Highlife, Juju, later Afrobeats, etc.). Language plays a role, even in creolized variants.

Unfortunately, several European colonial powers captured and bought slaves from all these areas, forcibly bringing them to the Americas. The Dutch and English for a period had preferential access in Ghana, the French in Dahomey (Benin) – hence the strong Benin influence among Afro-Haitians - , Portuguese, and later also Spanish, among the Yoruba, British (also) among the Igbo, etcetera. On the other hand, as I already mentioned, Akan/Ghana slaves also ended up in Spanish colonies, and Yoruba also in British colonies, like Jamaica. Studies – nowadays also with DNA analysis - also show Congo and Igbo descendants among Afro-Jamaicans, besides recorded strong Akan influences.

Africans of Congo descent are even more widespread throughout the Americas, used and enslaved by all colonial powers.

The spread of Islam reached both the North of Ghana and Nigeria, prior to formal European colonization, the latter bringing also European Christianity, notably its Protestant variant, to southern Ghana and Nigeria, now even more present and adhered to there than in nowadays largely secularized Europe.

DIFFERENCES

Just like Europe is not all the same, and you start noticing differences – even in folk culture – when you travel from, say the North of France and cross the Pyrenees toward southern Spain, including different indigenous instruments most commonly used: accordion and bagpipes in France, castanets and acoustic guitars in central and southern Spain (and tambourines in between).

The same applies even more when comparing the rich musical and percussion cultures between Ghana and Nigeria. I noticed this soon enough, even if looking superficially at most common drum shapes and types, for instance.

CULTURAL CONTEXT OF GHANA

The North of Ghana can be considered part of the adjacent Sahel, Mande-influenced region spreading through Guinea to Mali and Senegambia, and eastward to Burkina Faso. Here the Dagomba people, and other, Gur-speaking ethnic groups (Guro, known for masks, aslo inhabit Ivory Coast), live. Dagomba and related peoples speak the Dagbani language, and account for about 16% of the total Ghanaian population. Ethnically, they are related to the Mossi people of Burkina Faso.

These are Islamic influenced regions, characterized by more string instruments, specific talking drums, melismatic (“trembling”/sung vowel spread over several notes) singing, and as drum type also the (orig. probably Mande/Mandinga) Djembe is known, as well as drums made of calabash. Here the Griot culture (travelling musicians and storytellers, often with talking drums and harps/kora’s) is interesting. Especially the Dagomba in Northern Ghana are known for the use of talking drums within Ghana – called Donno, when adopted by the Akan later. In North Ghana – toward Burkina Faso - (among the Lobi people, also in Burkina Faso), the local xylophone (or balafon), known as Gyile, usually with 14 wooden keys, is common.

AKAN

The central part, and parts of the Western South of Ghana are largely Akan-speaking, where the Ashanti kingdom was once dominant. The present-day regions of Brong-Ahafo, Ashanti, and Western, Central (though rather Southern), and Eastern (see Map) are or became over time mostly Akan-speaking (including the once horrendous "slave port" Cape Coast). The Akan/Ashanti, and related people like the Fante (in coastal areas), were once relatively powerful in the region because of its gold resources, ruling over others, and reaching a somewhat advanced feudal class structure, with the royal house being important. As a whole, the Akan consider themselves royal (all members), only some actually function as royal leaders, which is a structure still proudly existing.

With about 48% of Ghana’s population (and around 40% of neighbouring Ivory Coast), the Akan people (speaking various dialects) form the largest ethnic group in present-day Ghana, which is also important to point out culturally: Dagomba/Dagbani, Lob, Gur,i in the North, and Ga, and Ewe in the Southeast are among the larger minorities (some still with over 10% of Ghana’s population). Different from Nigeria, having more a percentual/numerical “balance” between main ethnic groups (Yoruba, Igbo, Hausa, as main ones). Akan are more numerically dominant in Ghana.

Drums, also big ones, are important in Ashanti culture, many played by sticks, and some with curved sticks having a “talking drum” functions, accompanied by - as elsewhere in Africa - bells, sticks, bamboo flutes, shakers, and even a castanet-like “clapper” instrument.

ENSEMBLES

There are different types of drum ensembles, related to different social and also royal/ceremonial functions. These usually involve various drum and percussion types. The Adowa is the best-known social dance with music/drum/percussion accompaniment, with mainly female dancers, but male players/drummers.

The Kete ensemble is the best known of the originally ceremonial ensembles, and played at royal courts, among the Ashanti, also using the various drums in the Akan-speaking areas.

Both the Adowa and Kete ensembles tend to include “roundly” shape drums known as the Apenteme, taller “conga-like” drums, some big drums for special occasions, further: the Atumpan (round, talking drum, played with curved stick), roundish Petia support drums (played also with sticks) and the largest among the Ashanti drums: the Fontomfrom, with a tall, more “conga-like” shape. The Fontomfrom is often even about 150 cm (5 feet) high, (and 60 cm/2 feet wide)!

ETYMOLOGY AND RETENTIONS IN THE AMERICAS

The “Kete” (or “Akete”) drums known in Jamaica and Rastafari culture under that name, used in Nyahbinghi sessions, are however smaller and cylindrical in shape, thus have a different shape to most of the drums in the Ghanaian “Kete” ensemble, despite the shared name, showing Akan influences, at least etymologically (the linguistic study of word origin).

In drum combinations, functions, and patterns there are still Akan influences in Rastafari culture, due to their strong influences among the enslaved foreparents in Jamaica. Yet also influences from the Congo region, and other parts of Africa. That drummed “heart beat” of Rasta Nyabinghi sessions is by most scholars seen as rather a Congo, Central African heritage, via Kumina in Eastern Jamaica. Akan rhythmic influences are found elsewhere in Jamaican folk culture (Pocomania, native Baptist faith) too, as well as among the Jamaican Maroons.

The Aprinting drums among the Jamaican Maroons (I’ve studied them before), has etymological Akan origins again at least, but is further cylindrical/conical shape (not round), like drums elsewhere in Africa. The Maroons are partly of Akan descent, and well-known leaders of them too, but included demonstrated contributions from other parts of Africa, including Igbo, Yoruba, and Congo.

The Apinti drums among the Surinamese Maroons – however – not only in name/etymology resemble the Akan/Ashanti drums (Apenteme), but also more or less in shape: carved, and widening toward the bottom, as in playing style.

Further, there is a ”shekere”-like shaker instrument among the Ashanti (with beads around calabash), called Torowa. This is thus comparable to the Yoruba shékere.

GA

The Ga people in coastal southeast Ghana (around the capital Accra) and part of the Eastern region, have an interesting culture too, though now only about 8% of Ghana's total population. Linguistically they’re somewhat related to the Akan speakers: the Ga language, like Akan and Twi, belong to the Kwa language family.

Culturally there are similarities and differences, and in time the Ga adopted some Akan instruments, like drums, and vice versa. The Ga’s in part coastal location – and around the capital Accra - ensured some more international influences over time, while there were also influences from the neighbouring Ewe (Ghana, Benin, Togo) people, with a rich drumming tradition as well.

While their cosmology and social structure once, originally, differed from the Akan (theocratic/priest – not king/chief - rule, songs for main deity, instead of for kings or chiefs, etc.), over time the Akan influence changed this, though own Ga aspects are maintained. Likewise, most drums and other percussion used among the Ga are adoptions from the Akan and Ewe, but also with own instruments. The double bell (less used among the Akan), and Gome drum (a drum sat on, like a cajón with skin) are typical for the Ga, as well as the by now better known “Kpanlogo” drum.

KPANLOGO

The Kpanlogo drum has a “conga”-like barrel shape - generally a bit shorther than conga’s -, like some Ashanti and Ewe drums, but an own sound and technique, partly related to its antilope skin. Lately, cow skin is used more often, increasing similarity with the well-known (orig. Afro-Cuban) Conga, but with different tuning and patterns. (African retentions in Cuba show overall more Congo, Yoruba, and Efik/Calabar influences).

Kpanlogo is also the name of a genre and ensemble, that arose only since the 1960s and became quite popular in wider Ghana (after independence in 1959), but the drum named “kpanlogo” used in it, is in fact a new name for the older, traditional Tswreshi drum. The Kpanlogo/Tswreshi drum tends to combine with djembe, dunun, and bells (gankogui), within current Kpanlago ensembles. That “gankogui” bell is a double bell, and is an adoption from the neighbouring Ewe culture in Benin and Togo, and also in a part of Ghana. That Ewe culture is very rich in drums too, including conga-like shaped drums too, of various sizes. The Akan partly adopted that double bell later in their ensembles, but traditionally use single bells, such as slit bells.

EWE

In Ghana's Volta region, in the SE, there are the Ewe people, more dominant in neighbouring Togo. They account for about 13 % of the whole of Ghana's population, and have a rich percussion culture too (like the Fon in Benin).

MUSICAL STRUCTURES/PATTERNS

What Yoruba and Akan music in general share is that they solidly fit within the sub-Saharan (West) African characteristic key- based, “polyrhythmic” category, with different, interlocking rhythms played at the same time in one piece, with the bell(s), or wooden sticks and shakers, and support drums functioning as “time keepers”, with some lead drums having freer roles, often answered by other “improvising” drums, as a "call-and-response".

Vocals likewise tend to have that call-and-response structure, reflecting the age-old principle (both natural and spiritual) of “variations on the same theme” and “continuing life despite challenges and interruptions/obstacles”.

There are some differences though, related to “spiritual” functions. These seem more present in Yoruba pieces (chants, rhythms), dedicated often to Yoruba deities (“orishas”), involving therefore “spiritual possession”, and, in musical terms, an “apotheosis” or simpler: peak, highpoint. This translates in rhythms that a deity with specific characteristics (like the thunder and strength god Shango) enters a body of dancers, in some kind of trance, at a “peak” moment. Despite one’s personal spiritual beliefs about this, it certainly adds an attractive fervor and “dramatic development” to the music.

Ghanaian music, especially by the Akan and Ga, - as well as Ewe music - have some of these characteristics too, as spirits and ancestors were traditionally also worshipped, but less prominent, as now more common are “social” dance ensembles, or those ceremonial music genres for chiefs or kings, requiring some steadiness within its intensity, mostly achieved instead by dynamic improvisations and call-and-response.

RETENTIONS IN JAMAICA (MUSICALLY)

Both these aspects are found in Jamaican Reggae and other music in the Americas from the African Diaspora. I wish to focus on Reggae especially, since I am a Reggae fan since my teens. I am fully aware though, that also Surinamese music (traditional and later popular genres, like Kawina and Kaseko), or folk music in e.g. Guyana and the Bahamas, bears Ghana/Akan retentions in some of its aspects, as does – as some assert – Afro-Puerto Rican Bomba (with improvised) drum-dance interactions.

Reggae is – moreover - I think very interesting for the keen listener seeking African retentions in it. It has a “swing” aspect from Griot/Mande Africa (via Blues, Jazz, and R&B), alongside straighter rhythms and polyrhythm aspects, that are steady yet interacting continued, but in many Reggae songs elevate toward a “peak” or “highpoint” as in Yoruba or Congo, or old Akan, traditions. Translated for the modern drum kit in, e.g. the “crash cymbal” crowning/emphasizing a rhythm, as a temporary rhythmic climax. People who never dance to Reggae (those people exist) – confirming the stereotype, mostly (but not always) White people outside of Jamaica - , often don’t even notice this specific African retention.

Reggae musicians outside of Jamaica sometimes (not always) fail – or are culturally unable – to have that “peaking” aspect. Little use of “crash cymbal climaxes” - of otherwise skilled, steady, and tight drummers - betray that lack, that is perhaps forgivable (another culture, not theirs), but still a pity. The connection with this hidden African retention is mostly more present in Reggae by Jamaicans themselves.

Reggae’s steady rhythmic flow also shows Akan/Ghana retentions, as some kete or other drum patterns (call-and -response), and vocal-wise both some “harmony groups” Reggae was once known for (Abyssinians, Culture, Wailing Souls, Israel Vibration, a.o.), but also in the precursor to Rapping, the rhythmic talking or Toasting on music. Though similar vocal styles are found in other parts of Africa (and South Nigeria too), Jamaican Toasting/Chatting vocals still often shows some interesting “Akan rhythmic” aspects.

The later Dancehall “riddims” (music/instrumental), even the recent Digital “ragga” variant, also clearly encompass African rhythmic retentions, specifically even Ghanaian ones in the “interrupting” counter patterns. That “polyrhythm echo” makes the rhythmic complexity of Jamaican Dancehall in fact stronger than that of “simpler” (most) Hip Hop beats from the US, which might surprise some.

MY PERCUSSION

Not to make this too much about me, but I am in fact someone who is playing percussion for over 10 years now, and reside in Amsterdam, the Netherlands. I participated over the years in many jam sessions there, playing different genres, played with some (Reggae) bands, and played with African and “Latin” musicians as well. I also compose songs including my percussion.

Like most percussionists I know, I over the years I gathered many big and small percussion instruments (new, second hand, etc.), mostly from the wider African diaspora, turning my home in a semi-“percussion museum”, focussed on the African diaspora.

You have more people like that, I know, but what is relevant for this post, is how much of the “Ghana percussion” came into all my percussion activities. I personally started with Afro-Cuban and Yoruba patterns and instruments, soon also obtaining affinity for Congo, Mande (djembe, dundun), and Igbo musical cultures, and in the Americas: Haiti, Brazil, Colombia, a.o. Ghana stayed a bit behind, it seems (in instruments and patterns).

Yet not so much as I myself thought. Years ago I learned several bell patterns (also for double bell) including some associated with the Akan people, trying to fit them with different genres, and in the grooves. The bell pattern known as Asadua, in 12, played as: oXoXoXoXXoXXo (o=count, X=beat) is just an example of a bell pattern from Ghana that became part of my repertoire, like the Ashanti one: XoXXoXoXXoXo. Both can add nicely to a groove, of different genres!

I obtained over time a carved, small djembe that some assume is from Ghana, because of its characteristics. Could well be (Ivory Coast is also possible: often also carved, but there is an Akan influence there too): see photo.

I also have a small Surinamese Maroon (Djuka) “apinti” drum, with certainly Akan physical characteristics and retentions. A bit small for an adult person with big hands (my hands happen to be even relatively big, with long fingers, people tell me).. but I can always use just some fingers, not the whole hand, to play it.

I play a larger, square frame drum I sit on as a Gome drum, of the Ga in Ghana (saw some instruction films), even though not a Gome drum as such (Celtic sign on it, probably from Irish music), still playable sat on and with hands and feet too (like the Ga “gome”).

I have “ball shakers”, called Askatua, which are also Ghanaian: difficult to play (gyrating it, wrapped around finger), plus some other small instruments associated with Ghana.

In addition, years ago I studied and composed some songs around Ghanaian rhythmic patterns (partly from books), under a composer name of mine (Bongo Michel), to interchange Yoruba, Congo, Igbo, other African, and Afro-American influences on my playing and composing. This included a Fume Fume-based composition (a Ga rhythm), as well as a Ashanti music-based composition I made, called Sesa. I used other instruments – mostly – that traditional Ghanaian ones (did not have so much), but studied rhythmic patterns.

So, “Ghana” was not absent in my percussion focus and creative activity, but was neither the main focus.

This percussion is a passionate hobby of mine, you can safely say, haha. It also is Africa- and African Diaspora-wide.

CONCLUSION (plus RECOMMENDABLE LINK)

With the Yoruba and Igbo in (S) Nigeria, Akan and other Ghanaian music shares some basic “forest Africa” musical principles: call-and-response (vocals and instruments), polyrhythm and “clave” based interlocking combined rhythms, the “bell” as time-keeper, drums of different sizes, various shakers, wooden instruments, flutes, etcetera.

Differences I find interesting: the “sticks” (curved or not) are used more for drumming among the Akan than among the Yoruba (more hand drumming) or Igbo.

Historically formed differences in social structures play a role. Ghana and Akan society – once wealthy/powerful due to gold - knew chieftaincy and royal courts, in which drum ensembles functioned. Yoruba music had some stratification and chief/royal functions as well, but included more maintained “spiritual” deities, with different functions, associated with natural/environmental aspects, sea, rivers, thunder, requiring own rhythms to invoke such spiritual deities. Akan music, by contrast, transformed into more “social” and “ceremonial” in functions, even if having originally an own spiritual spirit-ancestor cosmology. Steady danceable rhythms – and variation – thus developed with dynamic flows, but less climax (i.e. possession)-based.

Igbo society in SE Nigeria was less authoritarian organized and centralized, with more disparate small-scale villages, requiring less “ceremonial” heaviness, foregrounding more a “natural, mellow flow”, aimed at dancing and communal living. As said in the above documentary: dancing and listening to/making music (rhytms) are among all these peoples part of a holistic whole, as in most of sub-Saharan Africa.

Within this, differences still are evident. The relatively “rounder” drums are more recurring among the Akan and the Ewe (alongside straighter drums), but less found among the Yoruba (more barrel-shaped, "hourglass"-like, or conical/cylindrical).

These different regions between Ghana and Nigeria all have specific instruments that are unique for each region, as well as drums or other percussion instruments with similarities with those in the other regions: the double bell can be found commonly among the Ga, Akan, Yoruba, and Igbo, with somewhat differ shapes. The same applies to talking drums, though most indigenous among the northern Ghanaian Dagomba people (relatively big talking drums in size), but adopted also by Akan and Yoruba.

Several online resources study and describe this in more detail, also with video examples, so no use for me “reinventing the wheel”.

This website I can recommend, as it did a good job giving an overview - with visual/video examples - and descriptions of several Ghanaian traditional music types, even if not exhaustive. Commercially based, but very informative by itself: see: https://ghanagoods.co.uk/

Combined with other online sources, one can now through self-study online, already certainly get a good idea from Ghana’s traditional music, and its survival in the present.

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.