Imazigh and Zulu music compared: comparing extreme ends of Africa

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

DIASPORA

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

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

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

PERCUSSION

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

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

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

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

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

NORTH AFRICA

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

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

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

ZULU MUSIC

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

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

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

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

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

IMAZIGH MUSIC

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

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

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

INSTRUMENTS

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

CHARACTERISTICS

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

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

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

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

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

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

ZULU MUSIC

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

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

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

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

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

DANCE

Depending on folk music’s function in both culture, but largely the traditional music of Imazigh and Zulus alike are dance-oriented. As in fact most folk music of the world.

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

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

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

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

BACK TO DIASPORA AFRICA

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

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

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

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

SWING

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

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

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

INTERLOCKING

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

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

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

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

MAIN CONCLUSION

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

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

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

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

NOI, Garvey, and beyond

Funny how things go..

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

NATION OF ISLAM

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

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

STORIES

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

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

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

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

MAINSTREAM ISLAM

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

BIGGER WHOLE

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

AFRICA

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

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

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

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

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

AFRICAN CULTURE

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

IDENTITY

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

IMPLICATIONS

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

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

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

BLACK-WHITE

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

CULTURAL IDENTITY

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

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

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

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

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

Reggae(-fied) cover songs

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

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

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

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

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

WHAT I KNOW

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

THE LIST BY MICHAEL GOLDWASSER

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

ANALYSIS

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

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

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

MY LIST

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

TRIBUTE?

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

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

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

OVERALL

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

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

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

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

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

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

Cultural appropriation

What is cultural appropriation? I heard the term used now and then, usually from activist people, or people behaving as such. Actually, I know of its use for decades, including finding it in academic studies about Caribbean culture, publications I had to index and describe for a library catalogue, of a scholarly (historical, anthropological) institute I worked in that period (2001-2014). This was in Leyden, the Netherlands, in an institute called the KITLV, that had a large Indonesian collection, as well as a Dutch Caribbean (Suriname, Antilles), but also wider Caribbean collection.

Besides these work-related encounters, I also encountered the same term “cultural appropriation” as said in some cultural debates and media discussions, by self-proclaimed activists, often of colour.

The Reggae scene I know well, and also the Rastafari scene in the Netherlands. To be honest, I joined both – in my own way. That “joining something” is however I think the crux of whether the term “cultural appropriation” makes sense.

ARGUMENTS AND COUNTERARGUMENTS

“Appropriation” implies “theft”, while – as US (African American) linguist John McWhorther argued – sensibly - when criticizing the term: “culture is not a limited resource”, and cannot be taken away by imitation. This can be found on Wikipedia. He also argues that it can stem from admiration. McWhorther, by the way, also studied the Afro-Surinamese "Maroon" Saramacca language, and that's how I first heard of him (work-related, at the said institute).. Later I found out he was also a known social and cultural commentator in the US.

Equally sensible – in my view – is the view of (originally Ghanaian) author Kwame Anthony Appiah, that cultural appropriation treats inappropriately as “property crime” (can you steal a culture?) what is actually a matter of respect or disrespect (imitation to defile/ridicule or to honour, simply said).

Those in favour of the “cultural appropriation” accusations – on the other hand – tend to argue that members of a “dominant” culture frivolously copy historically ethnic cultural practices from minorities or oppressed groups, taking them out of their “valid” contexts, while avoiding the oppression and discrimination the groups they imitate actually have to face, unlike them. It is thus seen as an expression of “white privilege”, harming the strength of original cultures, out of context.

Counterarguments – except those already mentioned by McWhorther and Appiah, by others - are that cultures tend to be constantly evolving, under the influence of other cultures and historical developments, betraying with the “cultural appropriation” accusation a deeply conservative and exclusivist view on cultural practices, as static, and as essentialist and “pure” as possible. Not dissimilar – some even argue – to how White supremacists and extreme right racists see a people or nation, when opposing e.g. migrants.

This lady sums up the discussion, in a quite sensible and balanced manner, although choosing to see “cultural appropriation” as a real problem, she at least also gives attention to counterarguments.

OWN STANCE AND SITUATION

I am on the “team” or in the “school” of McWhorther, in this debate. Yes, I might be biased, because I joined (like I said) the Rastafari movement (in my own way), wear dreadlocks (for all its superficial worth), but especially: I personally agree with main tenets of Rastafari and its attention to Africa.

I am of Italian-Spanish descent, and the Rastafari movement arose as Black Power movement with a spiritual nucleus (dixit Mutabaruka), aimed at repatriation to Africa of people of African descent in the Americas, once brought forcibly to the West.

I know all this, and that makes the Rastafari movement even more sensible and beautiful to me.

My parents were migrants to the Netherlands from Southern Europe: a bit closer to Africa, but still not Africa, so vaguely the “alienation” applies to me, but that is stretching it. “Going back to my roots” would be somewhere else than where I was born and grown (the Netherlands). So far for the “vague” and relative similarities with Black Rasta’s in e.g. Jamaica.

Though I sometimes wondered in the case of my mother (during Franco’s dictatorship in Spain, which she simply described as “terrible”) whether her migration to the Netherlands was really that “voluntary” – also because her initial irritations and misunderstandings (later partly resolved) with Dutch culture.

Since she sought work and secured a contract, it can be deemed a voluntary “guest labourer migration”, though. The same applies to the more adventurous migration (on a Vespa motorbike!) of my North Italian father, through Germany, ending up in the Netherlands. Also he responded to situations in his home country (lacking personal or economic opportunities), having heard from another Italian that “there was a lot of work” in the Netherlands. We’re talking the Early 1960s.

Italy democratized by then and was less poor than Spain, but still had some development issues, prompting emigration.

Still, it is a stretch – and wrong - comparing this migration with the harsh, violent, and dehumanizing enslavement and forced migration of millions of Africans to the Americas in the colonial era, with partly genocidal effects, and cultural damage, across the African Diaspora.

Spain and Italy have in addition - like the Netherlands - bloody colonial pasts in the Americas and Africa, as we know. Yet, neither can the migration of Moroccans and Turks from other areas of the Mediterranean, shortly following that Spanish and Italian migration, as “guest labourers”, be compared to it. That compares more to how my parents migrated, albeit with – arguably - more cultural, ethnic, and religious differences.

I added “arguably” in this last sentence because I know my parents (from Catholic countries) neither understood every aspect of Dutch culture in their entirety, causing misunderstandings, linguistically and otherwise. They did not know much about Protestantism or Calvinism, for example. Still, they were also part of wider European culture.

WHITE RASTA'S

Might my “outsider” status have attracted me more to the Rastafari movement? Maybe. Yet, it’s only a small part of it. I encountered “indigenous” White (Dutch) Rastafari-adherents, who seemed quite sincere and “in the faith”, and who thus were actually in the country where their forefathers lived, and which shaped the country. Some even with good jobs and from middle-class families.

These were individual choices, which I mostly respected. They seemed to “admire” the Rastafari movement, and predictably their love for Reggae music put them on the path, though I know of cases of personal relationships by white Dutch Rastas (a Black wife, friend, etc.) making them go that direction. Anyway, safe in some individual cases when I deemed ”gatekeeper” behavior by white Rastas all-too-condescending, most of these White Rasta’s seemed to me sincere and respectful to the culture.

POSTER

A female Black “activist group” (let’s call it that) recently hung a poster, critiquing White people with dreadlocks as ”culturally appropriating” in a former squatters café/bar in my hometown Amsterdam that I frequent sometimes, called Molli Chaoot. There (as often in the squatter movement) are indeed “white people with dreadlocks”, even working and volunteering there. This makes this poster a “provocative action” and seemingly targeted. This does not make their arguments any more reasonable. An open debate about even this I applaud, but the general “tone” of the poster’s text - including cliché's I heard elsewhere too - made me personally doubt the “open mind” of its (presumably Black female) writers, whom I maybe saw somewhere but never “met”.

You have after all people (on the Left and on the Right) – I experienced – who are so wrapped up in their ideology and/or an over-compensation of a minority complex, that they only can “accuse” or “insult”, not debate on content. Content-wise some of the arguments were on top of this flawed. White Rastas give up a part of their “white privileges” in many cases, especially when they get higher in this society and system. A “corporate lawyer” or politician, being White but also dreadlocked, is unheard of, safe rare exceptions, even if academically educated or intelligent. The other counterargument I already gave: cultures cannot be “stolen away" from its originators like material items, even if some would want to.

I personally add another counterargument. Having known many (Dutch) Whites “siding” or even “speaking for” Blacks in the Netherlands, also in the Reggae scene, focusing on an “outward”, superficial thing like “hair”, distracts from actual arrogance. Those Whites fancying themselves “cool with Blacks” – you know the type -, but without dreadlocked hair and just looking like regular White Dutchmen/-women, maybe slightly “hipper”, now feel even more “cooler” with Blacks, as they respectfully don’t even copy or “steal” their culture. What is forgotten here, is that these “square” White people still enjoy the “white privileges”, lacking the discrimination the groups they claim to respect so much have to face, and are even less hindered in this privilege than those “alternative” Whites choosing to go through life with dreadlocks.

ORIGINAL AND COPY

This culture or spiritual movement Rastafari, remains, besides all the European or Asian – let’s call them neutrally “adopters”, still of African-Jamaican origin (arising since the 1930s), influenced by Black Power ideas of Marcus Garvey and with Haile Selassie and Africa as crucial. That will never change, even with millions of White or Asian Rastafari adherents. As McWhorther said, and repeating: “culture is not a limited resource” that can be “stolen away” as such from its original creators. It stays with them.

Cultural appropriation can become more problematic, though, - and actual “appropriation”, rather than (good or bad) imitation -, when no respect is given to the originators of an imitated culture. That occurs sometimes, I recognize that, as origins are kept away from public knowledge, sidelined, even deliberately, or otherwise condescendingly degraded to a less-developed stage. Falsifying history is thus even attempted, though truth-seekers try to counter that..

The St Croix Reggae band Midnite (later Akae Beka) had interesting lyrics in their song Kaaba Stone, including the line: “Destroying the blueprint so no one can see, who is the original, and who is the copy”, relevant for this. Origins of cultures cannot be “stolen away” as such, but can be obscured or disrespected.

Some White and Asian Rasta’s can even prefer to focus mainly on their land of origin, which might not be Africa, but say Japan, Philippines, Basque Country, Netherlands, Poland, or New Zealand.

This makes historical sense, and is only immoral or “corrupting” – to use a strong word - (I think) when the tenets of Rastafari are disregarded, and Africa and its diaspora likewise ignored. At least some attention to Africa and Black history seems a sensible requirement, in my opinion, if a non-Black claims to join the Rastafari movement. Sincere concern about global inequalities - a concern noticeably lacking in today’s world! - also would help. Then “joining” Rastafari becomes a positive choice by people who chose to open their minds and hearts out of love and admiration.

This is not always the case, but unfortunately: “fake” – like good or bad – knows no race, colour, or gender. Another interesting question would be whether “fake” is always “bad” (as in “with bad intent”), and to what degree? That discussion however goes too far for now.

There are much more examples of what some deem - especially since the 1980s - as “cultural appropriation”, by “Westerners” mainly (though Islam as religion of Arabs in the beginning according to some also "culturally appropriated", e.g. from Jews).

It can go far, even within single countries. Spanish singer from Catalonia, Rosalía, e.g. having some popularity with Spanish and Latin American-tinged pop – and who studied Flamenco – got the accusation of “cultural appropriation” too, as she released Flamenco songs too, and uses its dance art in videos and such.

The critique is that she as a born Catalan (and father from NW Spain, Galicia), is not from the “right” part of Spain, being Flamenco’s heartland and place of origin, Andalusia, in the South, and directly around. In addition, Flamenco is associated with “gypsies” (Roma people), though strictly speaking Flamenco is not “gypsy” music in origins fully, but indeed influenced by Spanish Roma over time. Latin American or “Black” styles (e.g. Bachata in her big hit La Fama), and Reggaeton are also heard in some of her songs, making the “cultural stealing” accusation somewhat selective, although Rosalía’s singing style is Flamenco-influenced.

In my case (a Reggae fan, among other things), I think it’s most instructive and relevant to focus on the Netherlands, Reggae and other Black music fans, and the Rastafari movement there.

YO!, PE, AND X

During my high-school period in Hoofddorp (Netherlands, not far from Amsterdam) many other students (aged roughly between 11 and 18) were into Hip-Hop music. We’re talking the Late-1980s, Early-1990s, when Yo! MTV Raps became popular, inaugurating youth trends, also in the Netherlands. Public Enemy - and other “conscious rap” - also gained “white” fans at the high school I attended. I recall it was fashionable for a part of the boys (white middle-class, Dutch) at that school to wear the baseball cap with the “X” of Malcolm X on it. In parlance they tried to talk like the rappers too.

Just annoying, boisterous, and fashion-following adolescents?, Or even “cultural appropriation”?

I think the former. My memories are that some of these white “wannabe blacks” I did not even like so much, with their macho posture, and not being able to “talk” normally or friendly. Some even mostly behaved like insulting “bullies”, I recall. I found out because in fact I liked Public Enemy, and other hip-hop I got to know through Yo! MTV Raps as well (like they also proclaimed), but soon figured out that this shared interest was hard to share pleasantly with most X-cap wearing white youths, finding me too unfashionable and “nerdy”, to socialize with. They knew, however, about my love for Reggae then.

This was an early lesson and example of what would recur in later stages in my life, also in the Netherlands. How “fashionable” Black culture and music was among some White Dutch youth, but that it did not ensure a friendly bond with “out groups”. Music taste must be kept to myself, I learned then, else it is used against me by aggressive wannabe’s, with a negative “bully” vibe. This seems paranoid on my part, but I was confirmed in this throughout my life, when I found several White people (also in the Reggae scene) trying to – believe it or not – “out-black” me culturally.. Odd..

INTERNATIONAL

Such White “wannabe Blacks” often made an insecure impression on me, and some I mistrusted (did they really respect Black people, or were they just ego-tripping?). Still I respected – and understood, in part – their choice. So I was “insulted” by some of them, but not “offended” (that’s something else). Youths after all always search something different from their parents : preferably something “cool” and “wordly” and international.

Mitigating circumstances were also that the Netherlands largely lost the touch with its own “folk culture”, since around the 1950s. Every country, also the Netherlands, has or once had an own, local/national folk culture, including own traditional music. I sometimes think, though, that modernization through “industrialization” went too fast and far in the Netherlands as a whole, cutting ties to the rural traditions more than elsewhere.

Industrialization reached some parts of Italy and Spain too, yet there the ties with rural areas and rural-urban connections remained more intact even in cities, so also a rural “folk” culture. The same applies to Ireland, whereas England seemed to share more the (mostly) ”culture loss” fate with the Netherlands. People hardly know nowadays what is originally Dutch and English folk music, but know about Irish Celtic music, Spanish Flamenco, or South- Italian Tarantella. This is because industrialization reached these areas less (intensely), destroying less traditions.

I say all this, to show how this makes grabbing on to other people’s or international cultures understandable, since the base of an own “folk culture” has been lost. By necessity Dutch youths became more open to the outside world.

What became of these students during my high-school years – claiming to be PE and other Black hip-hop fans? - , I wondered at times since then.. Of some I found out, and no.. they usually (safe exceptions) did not start a social service to help poor Black people in the ghetto/projects in e.g. the US, or combat poverty and inequality in Africa, or racism in societies. Not very actively, anyway.

This is not to “diss” them totally as persons, but I am just saying that they got out of their fanatic “conscious rap” phase (perhaps still listening to it) as fashion - often not very “deep”, anyway -, and ended up in the usual West’s modern “wage slavery”, working for an employer for their monthly check, to pay the bills/rent/mortgage, for them and their family, and mostly bound to mainstream culture and mass media. Simple, bourgeois lives as so many in Western Europe lead, especially when aided by “white privilege”.

While I consider “cultural appropriation” mostly a nonsense term, the term “white privilege” makes more sociological and historical sense in my view, but perhaps others have a different opinion about this.

Then there is also the recent term “woke” (John McWhorther criticizes that too, by the way), but I don’t know exactly what “woke” is.. and noting the people who employ it eagerly: I do not want to know (read: I don’t trust it), so will not waste my energy on it. The term “cultural appropriation”, however, I found intriguing enough to focus on in this essay.

A baseball cap with X (of Malcolm X) can be taken off when a white/Dutch adolescent reaches adulthood, but when a white person puts dreads in his hair, and wears Rasta clothing, but especially the hair, he or she cannot hide his/her affiliation. If anything, it shows more courage and character, as it puts into question eventual white privileges. Already those “white privileges” were more limited among the lower- and laboring classes, but even there, being “dreadlocked” might work out discriminatory, vis-à-vis a straight, “normal”-looking, short haired, standard - read: preferred - white men.

If “appropriation” is “theft” than this “theft” makes one actually poorer and one’s life more difficult, side-stepping white or class privilege. True love requires sacrifices, someone said, so that shows further how nonsensical the term “cultural appropriation” is.

Instead I opt for the term “cultural imitation with or without respect”, as Appiah also describes it. If someone is respectful toward others requires time to find out, as with all human relationships, you “feel” or “sense” when someone respects you, and if not you end the relationship. That’s all it is..

I would also add self-respect. Imitating others (especially of dominant cultures) because of lack of self-respect or respecting one’s own culture – i.e. an inferiority complex -, is of course neither healthy. At most you should take the best of different worlds in your very own cultural and creative manner, without trying to be what you are not.

OWN CULTURE

That ‘s what I try to do, admittedly: I am my own culture, shaped by different cultures (parental ones, cultural and musical tastes, geographical interests, local Dutch influences, other international influences, etc.), dependent on my personality and life trajectory . At least, I opine, you should truly have an own personality and culture in this world.. Else you are absorbed and enslaved. It is this very equal “personhood” that Rastafari also once strived to achieve, after all, as an emancipatory movement. Also this “freed identity” seemed to be inspiring and attractive aspects of Rastafari, internationally, I reckon.

I personally also learned to put shared humanity first, also in my “art” (songs). We all have the same needs and desires in life – essentially – corporal, mental, and spiritual -, especially when left alone by powers that be above us, restricting and categorizing us: freedom to express and to enjoy life, music, art, all kinds of sensations (food, fun, dance, laughter, sex), pleasant, inspiring human connections, self-realization, etcetera. Circumstances, race/gender, and geography may all differ, but we are all essentially human and similar in these desires. Realizing this makes me enjoy “crossing” end “mixing” cultures, or even “delving” into specific ones (from all continents): to learn about wider humanity in a deeper sense.

This way of thinking I mostly cherish and strive to, is at odds with exclusionist “group thinkers” locking themselves in “easy” often superficial racial or group identities, and keeping polluting “enemies” preferably out. Not unlike the KKK’s thinking, when it comes down to it.

Such a defensive stance is more foregiveable, understandable – and to a degree necessary - among oppressed and marginalized - even attacked - groups, yes, I agree, but still simplistic and in the end limiting.

I as a musician, mostly play percussion (including mostly African and Afro-American instruments, but also Western/European and Asian ones), and compose songs in different genres (Black and other). Thus, in my case the mixing of cultures or multiculturalism is very evident and forward, but also people doing totally other things – even non-artistic/musical ones- can easily mix those international cultural influences to several degrees, even passively (music taste, food taste, interests). This opens up the mind to other peoples and cultures, and can never be wrong, I think. Not by itself. Neither does it by definition became “wrong” when the passive simply becomes active – an active identity – as “cultural appropriation”, accusers seem to suggest, overly simplistically. It is simply human.

If anything – as I argued before – it shows a true and determined commitment, and in a sense “courage”. As long as you don’t lose yourself, and respect other people’s cultural ownership.

CONCLUSION

My main conclusion from all this can be short. Yes, cultural “appropriation”, or perhaps better: “disrespectful cultural imitation” or to use another term “culture vultures” exists to a degree, even by those with bad or selfish intentions (ego, power, money, exploitation), but many more seem to just admire or appreciate. Yet, wickedly “meant” or not: above all, it should not affect the sense of pride in cultural ownership of groups, even when the origins are at times deliberately obscured. Better to rise and stand above those fools, as the truth always comes out on top, like olive oil in water..

Meanwhile: I think the world would be better if we all are and remain free in our creativity as human beings, and open culturally..

The journey of the triangle

To (quoting bredda Bob Marley) “come in from the cold”: might the triangle instrument be cooler than we think?

Or at least than I, myself, think? Then I started to wonder: did I ever even have an opinion about the triangle? I really only knew of its association with “high brow” classical symphonic orchestras: true, not my main musical interest, but I was still intrigued by its high sound and function in the piece, as I was in most music, as such.

The latter increased over time, especially – and interestingly – after my whole trajectory through “the world of percussion” - esp. the last decennia - with an emphasis on Afro-Cuban, and African, especially Yoruba and Igbo instruments, though further varied geographically (later came also Afro-Brazil). Triangles are after all part of the “percussion family”, as they call it.

Tellingly, since the (like the triangle) metal “campana” (“cowbell” in Spanish) is important in Afro-Cuban music, I obtained that soon in that percussion trajectory: not long after conga’s and bongos, actually, Why suddenly “campana” must be used in this context instead of English “bell” or Dutch “bel”, I really don’t know, but many do. I understand it is fun to slip in a Spanish word, haha.

More metal instruments followed adter the campana/bell for me. My first “triangle”, however, I only bought recently. I encountered it by chance in a percussion musical instruments shop in outer northwestern Amsterdam, Netherlands, a shop called Pustjens. I always look out - in this shop and elsewhere - for small interesting percussion to add to my collection (with intent to use musically!), and this time there were also triangles of different sizes. The smaller ones were cheaper than I thought, so I bought one. I soon after took it since to some jam sessions in the city, and recorded it on songs.

In this post I will focus further on the question I opened with: is the triangle in reality cooler than we think?

I could have opted for a more ambitious essay or study of all “metal percussion”, but I try to control my megalomania (a common thread throughout my life, haha), or otherwise said: choosing in this instance “induction”, over “deduction”: starting with the small example, then widening/broadening its context (read: comparing with other percussion).

So first things first. How did I become more interested in triangles than I was before?

INTEREST

I use myself as example, not because I see myself as role model or some “leading guru”. See me in this case as an “experienced percussionist” as well as a “Reggae fan”.

Neither Afro-Cuban music, African music, or even Reggae, I always loved, are particularly known for the use of triangles. I rarely recall noticing it anyway, perhaps only on the song Road Foggy by Reggae artist Burning Spear (album Hail H.I.M.), without even realizing it was a triangle. And it was, in Road Foggy: a triangle hit on the One, every four measures. That high, clear sound did add to the song’s feel..

I associated the triangle as said with European classical music, but then was kind of surprised to recently find a “groovy” and “funky” use in Brazilian music, of multiple (African, Amerindian, and European) origin, namely the NE Brazilian Forró genre, some years ago. A cousin of mine, well into Afro-Brazilian culture, confirmed its groovy, rhythmical use in some Brazilian genres. That groovy use was to me then (only some years ago!) a pleasant surprise.

ORIGINS

Its “European” image notwithstanding, the earliest origins of the triangle, are clouded in history, but are most probably found in Ancient Egypt or the Middle East, connected with religious services. It first appearance in Europe was mentioned since the 14th c., first in Germany, but unlike other instruments we all know now: like the accordion, the harmonica, or tuba, it did not originate in the German-speaking world, or even elsewhere in Europe. It became more and more used, associated later with “Turkish” music, as some very vague “exoticism”.

The Islamic Turks (or Ottomans), conquering the Balkans and Greece since the late 15th c. were travelling conquerors, having taken also culture and aspects from other people. The metal and other percussion the Turks brought, were taken once from China, via Armenia, or other parts of Asia. Also the cymbals on our drum kits, have that ultimate origin (China), and cymbal making was also more a specialty of Armenians, rather than Turks, by the way. So the idea that Turks spread “their” music with the Ottoman empire – and other cultural aspects – to e.g. the Balkan region is too simplistic, since they took much from elsewhere.

Like the Arabs before them (who eventually converted the Turks to Islam), they switched from a nomadic focus, to conquering settlers, while taking cultural aspects from conquered peoples. The origin of the “guitar” is in Spain, but based on – they say – Persian models, Arabs took from Persia, to give a known example, reworked in what is now Spain, etcetera.

Much “metal” percussion that came to Europe through the Turks, have thus their origins in the Far East, mostly China, although the triangle has – as said- more probably a historical connection with Egypt (that the Turks also conquered by the 16th c. AD.), but its presence in Europe by the 14th c. points at a different flow, and relations to the ancient Egyptian (lithurgical) “sistrum”, which was also “rattle-like”. Not uninteresting, as the “castanets” – becoming typical of Spain – also were said to have ancient origins in Egypt. Castanets, however, spread less outside the Iberian peninsula (still mostly associated with Spanish folk culture), while the triangle was found wider in Europe, even non-Mediterranean parts.

The basic characteristics of the triangle became over the centuries more and more standardized since then in Europe, including the open corner.

TODAY

Today, the triangle is still used in Coptic (Orthodox) Christian Church services in Egypt – usually with cymbals - , a bit comparable to the use of the “sistrum” in the Ethiopian (Orthodox) Christian Church (also today). The sistrum was already used in Ancient Egypt, probably being the only known forebear to the triangle, adapted over time.

The triangle thus had and has partly a lithurgical use, but in Western classical music it obtained a musical, if quite “ceremonial” function, e.g. marking transitions in classical music pieces: an announcing, often atmospherically used instrument, and a bit less rhythmically, in pieces that either way lend more on harmony and melody than on rhythm.

This being said, in classical pieces by e.g. Giaochino Rossini (the well-known Wilhem Tell Overture), Offenbach’s equally well-known Can-Can (from Orpheus in the Underworld), some works by Franz Liszt, Ludwig von Beethoven, Igor Stravinsky (in his composition The Rite Of Spring), and Johannes Brahms, the triangle is used quite rhythmically but selectively, as well as by George Bizet or Strauss.

Other composers like Bach, Wagner, Debussy, and Mozart seem to use the triangle more in an atmospheric sense (referring to festivities), though in line with the rhythm. Tchaikovsky used the triangle in his well-known piece the Nutcracker. The Ode To Joy by Beethoven is another better-known piece, with the triangle at some points.

Mozart’s opera Die Entführung aus dem Serail (1782) figures the triangle as well in relation to then fashionable “Turkish” music: again all-too-vague exoticism, although Turkish musicians could have picked the triangle up after conquering Egypt (under the Ottoman empire).

So, several examples of triangle use in (European) classical pieces can be mentioned, but its use tend to be sparingly and selectively, though often significantly for the pieces' atmosphere.

FOLK MUSIC

There are of course some European classical instruments that can also be found in less high-brow, and really popular “folk” music, that I personally tend to like more (while I still appreciate some classical music and composers, especially of the Italian school, like Puccini, further Manuel De Falla, and also some works by Tchaikosky I appreciate).

The tuba - low horn - is an example, being either of German or, as some say, Roman origin, at times the violin (though the fiddle is more common in folk music), and even the cello, having e.g. a place in Tyrolean and Trentino (Northern Italy) Alpine folk music, not just in the “posh” concert halls. Also, the harp, and clarinet-like instruments are since long part of Celtic folk music, beyond concert halls.

Reasonably - perhaps ideally - that European classical music reflects (surrounding) European folk culture, with different influences: French, German(ic), Celtic, Italian, Spanish, Slavic, and Turkish.

I think the triangle’s role in folk music came about later, after being used in more classical contexts. Despite its practical size, the triangle after all requires a specialized manufacturing with metals, including iron, and a shape.

Its use in European folk music is found in certain Eastern European folk styles (Hungary and Poland) - including in the festive polka, including by Roma in e.g. Hungary, and also dance-oriented, such as in the Hungarian Csárdás genre. It can be – or used to be - found sometimes in Alpine regions (Austria, Bavaria, Switzerland). It is found (still, I understood) in some Spanish folk music (e.g. in rural Aragón, parts of Castile, and on the Balearic isles), Sardinia, and in Celtic music.

OUTSIDE OF EUROPE

Even more interesting: the triangle is nowadays used in Thai folk music (such as Luk Tung), often in festive settings. And in the Americas, such as in Peru..

In the US, its use is most common and crucial in Cajun and Zydeco music, especially traditional Cajun, as it developed in Louisiana under French, but also African influences. The accordion, fiddle, and triangle were the main instruments of this traditional Cajun, that would influence Country music, being thus not so originally “white” or “European” as many suppose. The fiddle, and later the accordion, remained the main instruments in both Zydeco and Cajun overall, even as it modernized, with also quite regularly the use of a triangle (especially when other percussion/rhythmic instruments are absent).

Also in Cuban music and salsa, it is said that the triangle is used sometimes, such as in Cuban Son and its precursors (such as Changüí), often adding to the clave or rhythmic foundation. It is however hardly a main instrument in most Cuban genres (rather string instruments, hand drums, cowbells, shakers, timbales, etc.) though, rather exceptionally used, although it has a musical function even in some folk contexts.

I have witnessed/attended quite some (mainly acoustic) live music performances in Cuba, especially Santiago de Cuba, - outdoors and in clubs - but do not recall seeing a triangle anywhere: “campanas” (cowbells) on the other hand often..

For these reasons, I could not really find online examples.

What I vaguely assumed seemed thus confirmed: one of the few genres outside of Europe – or in the Americas – where the “triangle” is really crucial musically – is in NE Brazilian Forró. The very genre that triggered my personal interest for the triangle in the first place.

FORRÓ

While Forró is I find very interesting, also historically, there is not much use in repeating what the Wikipedia article writes about this Northeastern Brazilian music genre. In short: Forró combines European/Portuguese influences with Amerindian and African ones, and knows several subgenres (e.g. Xaxado).

Very superficially – for people less knowledgeable about Brazilian music – Forró has some similarities with what became known as Lambada. Well danceable, and accordion-driven, with a nice, meandering rhythmic flow.

I became most intrigued with how the triangle became so basic in most Forró subgenres. It is also used in some other Brazilian genres, like in Bossa Nova or Samba, by the way, though hardly as standard as in most Forró.

The accordion (originally German, by the way), the Zabumba drum, and the Triangle, are all basic and standard in Forró, with sometimes variations or additions (fiddles instead of accordion, in some subgenres), yet the triangle seems to have secured its fixed place in Forró. This makes it probably nowadays the folk music genre wherein the triangle is most important, world wide. Interesting development for a probably Egyptian origin-instrument, in time Europeanized and “Turkified”, now relatively most common in rural (mixed-raced) NE Brazil.

For this reason, it was very easy to find nice examples of Triangle use in Brazilian Forró: bands performing, but also quite some instructional videos can be found online, as on Youtube (“playing triangle in Forró or Samba”, for instance), especially in Portuguese.

Some fellow-musicians I know dismiss such “online instrument lessons” as disguised ego trips of insecure men, but I find that a bit too strict. Sometimes an ego trip, yes, but sometimes it can also be a child-like enthusiasm getting the better of these adult instrument players, which I find more “cute” than annoying.

At the very least, even such online triangle playing lessons for Brazilian music, point at a living culture of the triangle instrument in Brazil, much less present in Europe now.

Triangle is in Portuguese written as Triângulo. Unlike Spanish (having accents only for emphasis indication), Portuguese has that â – a tiny roof on the Letter A – not for emphasis, but for pronunciation, like in French.

African retentions are there in Forró, in the big (low) Zabumba drum – marking the beat/rhythm - , in the general syncopation and polyrhythms, and also the triangle has a role in this, maintaining a steady pulse, similar to the cowbell or woodblock in other African or Afro-American genres.

Its role in Forró can further also be compared to that of the “rhythm guitar” in Reggae: a steady pulse in between the drum and bass, rendering similarly a syncopated groove.

For all these reasons I got to like the Brazilian genre Forró over time, though later than other Brazilian genres like Samba or Bossa Nova, partly also because of its intriguing – and original! -, “groovy” use of the triangle in it. It adds to the nice groove, in most Forró I heard.

Most triangles I see and hear used in Forró tend to be bigger than the one I have, but never mind that.

I am therefore willing to argue that, in answering the question I opened with: Brazilian Forró made the triangle “cool”.. At least for people who are into Black music, I imagine.

REGGAE

Not that the triangle is totally absent from other “Black” genres, including my beloved Reggae.

There are also examples of uses in Jazz, Soul, and other genres, adding to the whole mix. Stevie Wonder’s Love’s In Need Of Love Today being a fine example. Also artists like James Brown, or Isaac Hayes, tending to prefer several percussive layers, occasionally used the triangle in the mix, at times quite audibly.

Then we come to Reggae. Though not many sources refer to it, I found (from experience) some use of the triangle in several Reggae songs. Mostly “by ear”, as in album or song credits/liner notes, “percussion(s)” is seldom further specified.

Very good and noticeable use of the triangle is used in the song Road Foggy by Burning Spear, as released on his critically acclaimed (1980) Hail H.I.M. album. It really helps “shape” the song and its (rhythmic) flow, almost subconsciously..

More subtly (softer) in the mix, there is a triangle in Bob Marley songs, like Satisfy My Soul, Sun Is Shining, and Jamming, though you have to listen well. On Sun Is Shining (the Kaya version) it is most noticeable.

On occasion, in the “golden era” of Roots Reggae – roughly the 1970s and 1980s - , with artists like Culture, the Wailing Souls, Pablo Moses, Israel Vibration, Dennis Brown, Gregory Isaacs, Mighty Diamonds, and many others, the triangle in some songs can be heard somewhere in the mix, as part of percussion, sometimes quite deeply buried in the mix, as on the mentioned Bob Marley tunes. Also on some Linton Kwesi Johnson songs I seem to hear the triangle; maybe even on the classic song Street 66, though I am not sure whether the crucial metallic sound in this song is a high bell, or a big/low triangle.

Later Reggae songs by later artists, such as by Everton Blender (e.g. Backra), Mykal Rose, Sizzla, Tarrus Riley, Protoje, Luciano, or Richie Spice, occasionally added a triangle in the percussive whole, mostly to nice effect. This means that also in New Roots – as it is called – modern post-1990s Reggae, a triangle is often part of the percussionists’ set, and sometimes used. Mostly subtly accentuating the rhythm, and at times atmospheric. Sometimes it’s audible, other times you need a specialized headset or speaker system to catch it, but it’s high metal tone has a function in the piece.

In Road Foggy it emphasizes the One, after every 4 drum measures, - in an interesting interchange with the rattle/vibraslap. A similar role it had in other Reggae songs..

Overall, the triangle is used much less when compared to much more commonly used, almost “standard” percussion instruments in Reggae, such as the cabasa shaker, the vibraslap, tambourine, scrapers, wood or jam “blocks”, cowbells, and of course hand drums. Even the tubular metal bar chimes (in many standard percussion sets, nowadays), while not overly common in particularly Reggae, are heard relatively a bit more than triangles.

There are of course enough exceptions to this rule within Reggae, of even songs with audible and functional triangle use in Reggae Riddims (instrumental parts), such as on Mykal Rose’s recent song Tribal War, with the high brilliance of the triangle nicely woven throughout this song.

Another example of a song I liked, in which I did not even notice the triangle at first, is Bushman's Creatures Of The Night, even quite steadibly and audibly throughout the song, subtly adding to the flow. The rest of the song and its groove (and percussion) is already good, but the triangle certainly adds texture to this Bushman song.

It further shows that triangles are used with different types of lyrics, also within Reggae: both "merry" or "mellow" songs like Sun Is Shining, as more "protest" or "lamentation" tunes like the mentioned Mykal Rose (Tribal War), and Bushman (Creatures Of The Night) examples.

Percussion use differs of course from Reggae album to Reggae album, which is interesting by itself, as they seem to relate to both artistic choices, and practical ones: the triangle is - resuming - not very common among it, but neither absent.

ELEPHANT IN THE ROOM

This brings me to the proverbial “elephant” in the room we were dancing around: the sonic characteristics of the triangle. This is after all the reasons for its use, or eventual added value (or not). What does the specific sound of the triangle (high, clear) add to other percussion instruments, especially metallic ones?

Especially that high, clear sound, and unspecified note/tone. Melodically you cannot do much with it, rhythmically and “atmospherically” all the more. The latter we find in mentioned pieces by some renowned European classical and symphonic composers (Mozart, Tchaikovsky, Bach), but also in some Reggae songs, where the rhythm and percussion is already quite full, but adding atmosphere, such as on Bob Marley’s Sun Is Shining on the Kaya album.

Other Reggae artists use the triangle also more rhythmically. More rhythmically, but also adding to the feel, it tends to accentuate drum patterns, especially its starting, therefore mostly on the One of the measure. Often not too regularly (every 4 drum measures, mostly), yet playing a role. This might be precisely because of its high, distinctive, “clear” sound – cutting through other sounds -, within the whole, compared to other instruments.

MATERIAL

From a “material” perspective it is also interesting to point out, that “metal” is a broad term: you have iron, copper, brass/bronze (most Asian/Chinese gongs), aluminum, and steel, being an alloy of iron), with all distinct sonic characteristics.

Brass - in essence an alloy of copper with zinc - is of all the metals the most used in musical instruments. We know brass from its use for trumpets and other horns. Brass is however also used relatively a lot in percussion, due to its bright, often warm and resonant tone, and possibilities. Steel is - besides for steel guitar strings - however also used in some metal percussion: of course the "steel drum", but e.g. also in the double bell the Agogo (Yoruba/African, Afro-Brazilian) Even "iron", though with less sonic possibilities, is used sometimes. "Bronze" (an alloy of copper, with tin) is more durable than brass, and is for instance used for cymbals, as is even sometimes silver..

This is mostly in instruments manufactured in the Western world, which in this time also includes originally African instruments made in Western factories (with tropical materials), as the djembe, or Afro-Caribbean instruments like the Conga and Bongó (both in origin from Cuba, with Central African precursors), in which the “big” US-based percussion company LP (Latin percussion) was and is important.

African cowbells, locally made, can also be made of steel, but also from forged iron or metal scrap, but still adapted for flexibility regarding musical demands.

The topic of this post, the triangles, tend mostly to be made of steel and brass (often combined, emphasis on steel), resulting in a high, brilliant sound, cutting through other sounds, but with medium-length resonance: often longer resonance than pure iron or steel, yet less than brass.

I now dived like the Yoruba deity Oggun (of a.o. metallurgy and “iron”) into metallurgy and metal use. In a recent musical piece by myself, about that deity, I added for this symbolic reason to the drum patterns associated with Oggun (or Ogun) the triangle, to complete it. I kept this particular composition relatively sober and empty, so you hear well how my trangle sounds.

Such rhythms in (African) Yoruba-related belief systems (also in “the West”: Cuba, Haiti, Trinidad, and Brazil), serve to evoke the respective spirit/deity, by the way, making them musically, and for some maybe even spiritually interesting.

An interesting question is when this sound is appropriate in a musical piece. This question is however unanswerable, as it is up to each individual artist’s choices. Classical composers like Mozart or Debussy used the triangle atmospherically and a bit transitional/rhythmic: not really throughout or intensely. Soul, Jazz, or Fusion artists tend to combine those feels (atmosphere and rhythm), “filling up” the whole, so to speak.

In Reggae its use tend to be rhythmic, especially in an accentuating, pace-setting way. Other metal percussion instruments are used more to “embellish” or for atmosphere in Reggae songs, notably the flexatone or bells.

CONCLUSION

What can be concluded – or “induced” – from all this? Well, that the triangle has made an interesting journey in this world: Westernized toward orchestral classical music by European composers, yet probably adapted from an (Ancient) Egyptian origin. The triangle left some traces in certain European folk music genres, most standard in Hungary, but elsewhere too, in some Asian ones, such as in Thailand and Indonesia (at times connected to Gamelan ensembles), but most notably in the Americas, in the Cajun genre (French Creole-influenced) in Louisiana, the US. Cajun influenced in part Country.

Even more so, and with a more basic, standard role, in parts of Latin America, especially in the Forró genre in Northeastern Brazil, and genres influenced by it in Brazil (on occasion Samba or Bossa Nova).

In the “pop” or “rock” world (incl. Soul, Jazz, Reggae, Country, Funk, Hip Hop) etcetera, its use is present, yet exceptional, and differing per artist and album, preferences and choices of (added) percussion, and there are examples of triangle use in certain songs by well-known artists like the Beatles, Stevie Wonder, Herbie Hancock, or Joni Mitchell (her “hit” song Big Yellow Taxi: with the sampled line: “you don’t know what you’ve got till it’s gone..”).

The problem is that liner notes of albums or songs rarely go into more detail, by specifying the type of percussion, so one has to find out “by ear”.

Either way, the triangle has gained a steady place in “world percussion”, and while seemingly “Westernized/Europeanized” in some stage, it did become over time convincingly “multicultural” (as much other percussion), and crossed boundaries.

The genre wherein the triangle nowadays is used most, as a standard, or even “carrying” instrument, is - after all - Brazilian Forró, mixing European, African, and Amerindian influences into a “groovy” whole.