The Cajón and its spread

The “cajón” is by now a well-known and internationally spread percussion instrument. Meaning “(big) box” in Spanish, the wooden box that is sat on while played, has its origins in Peru, among coastal Afro-Peruvians, the presence of boxes related to port activities, and taking on a “drum function”. Early records from around 1850 mentioned them already.

Eventually, its design came to consist of a round hole in the back, for resonance. The types of woods for the surface came to be mostly rosewood for the playing surface, and a light spruce wood for the case: making it portable, and the different types of wood interacting adds to the tonality.

From then on, in Peru, the interesting journey begun.. to quote from a Eric B & Rakim song sample (on Paid In Full): “this is a journey into sound”.

The cajón’s short, staccato plywood sound apparently added sonic aspects beyond mere “drum copying”. In the early stages, among Afro-Peruvians, the cajón patterns followed more the Central African “straight rhythm” patterns, including call-and-response. The differing sounds (rim, higher, centre, bass, and hand use) enabled different tones.

Yet, it’s wooden, somewhat “shuffling” sound lent itself to more options too: more “around the beat” and “swinging”, as common in other traditions in Africa, like Senegambia/Guinee , but also in the Islamic world, South Europe, and the Middle East.

TRAVELLING INSTRUMENTS

More instruments have interesting “travelling stories” that are worth knowing: it teaches us a lot about certain historical epochs and conditions, power relations, inequalities, etcetera. The mouth-organ/harmonica is of – hear this – German origin, reaching the US through German migrants, getting somehow in contact with African Americans, the latter liking its portability and relative cheapness.. and possibilities. Result: the common role of the harmonica in Blues.

The common drum kit (snare, bass, cymbals) in Western pop originated as such in New Orleans, the acoustic guitar (with Persian/Moorish antecedents) in southern Spain, the cymbals in China, the Conga and Bongos in Cuba (with Central African antecedents), the saxophone was invented by a Belgian, as many may know, etcetera etcetera, and all these instruments spead internationally.

What is interesting about these migrations of instruments throughout the world, and from culture to culture, I think, is the reason why they migrate in that particular manner, and to specific genres. Do they fit better? Other cultural connections?

This is in fact a common, recurring theme in this blog of mine. I discussed how the originally Afro-Cuban “guiro” scraper became commonly used in Jamaican Reggae music. Afro-Cuban Congas ended up in even mainstream Jazz, Funk, and Soul in the US, for instance.

As mentioned, the harmonica/mouth-organ travelled historically from Germany to the US From fanfare-like (South) German traditional music, to something very different: the African American Blues.

SPAIN

The first international spread of the Afro-Peruvian “cajón” was different: namely to Spain, Peru’s erstwhile colonizer. This was through Flamenco artist Paco De Lucía, encountering and becoming enchanted by the cajón box, when in Peru in the 1970s. De Lucía said he almost immediately noticed, when played along with the guitar, that it fitted very well with Spanish Flamenco, and better than other percussion.

This was due to the sound. The plywood/rosewood, staccato sound resembled the hand-clapping and “zapateo” (foot-tapping) in the Flamenco tradition, in fact sounding somewhat in-between clapping and zapateo/foot-tapping.

Again the “shuffling” plays a role here, relating to the North-African “swinging”, meandering rhythmic structure influencing Flamenco. This is echoed also in, for instance, the Darbuka playing style in the Middle East and North Africa, and other (string) instruments: “around/toward” the beats, rather than straight on them (the latter more common more to the “polyrhythmic” south in Africa).

Hide drums like congas, bongos, or djembes do less allow that shuffle, and offer more “rounded”, full sounds. Congas and bongos were and are used sometimes in Flamenco, but the cajón became much more successful, even to the point of being “incorporated” regularly. It took partly over the beating of rhythms for each Flamenco type on the guitar, and clapping/foot tapping, or combined with it. Its very sonic characteristics explain this suitability.

Paco De Lucía’s percussionist, the Brazilian Rubem Dantas, incorporated the cajón by the mid-1970s, and from then it spread within wider Spanish Flamenco, with thus origins in a former colony of Spain, among people of African descent. Some ironies perhaps here, but also a nice, open influence between different cultures.

By now the cajón has been fully incorporated, almost normalized, within Flamenco music.

In Spain, the instrument was adapted: strings were attached to the back for more resonance and a louder, “buzz” sound, being in part a Moorish influence, and other details also were changed. A distinct “flamenco cajón” type – with strings tied behind the surface - thus developed.

This route from Peru to Spain, and other parts of Europe, is only one of the journeys of the cajón, though.

CUBA

Cajones – wooden boxes - , once used for transport of goods, repurposed to be drummed (and sat) on are not unique to Peru. Similar cajones arose in Cuban port cities like Havana and Matanzas, when the Rumba music genre developed among Afro-Cubans, in the later 19th c.. “Rumba” itself was born from different influences from Africa and Afro-Cuban culture, including from drumming from the Congo region, from Yoruba patterns, and from the music from the Abakua secret societies, with origins among Efik people in the Cameroun/Nigerian frontier Calabar region in Africa. These influences translated to a percussion-dominated, call-and-response-based secular style known as Rumba in and around Havana and Matanzas in Western Cuba and beyond.

Well now, historically, early urban Rumba in cities like Havana and Matanzas was played on wooden boxes, cajones, reportedly once used to import “bacalao” (cod, codfish) into Cuba. These had different sizes and functions, in threefold – an African retention. The biggest boxes had a bass function – like the later Tumba or Salidor conga, a middle one (Conga), and the higher pitched a “quinto” function, like later well-known Conga drums (called Tumbadoras in Cuba) similarly would come in 3 sizes and functions.

In more rural areas of Cuba, “regular” hide drums like the Makuta (of Congo/Bantu origin) – a precursor to the later tumbadora or conga – tended to be used earlier in Rumba. The Rumba de cajón survived longer in port cities like Havana, but later also replaced mostly by what we know as Conga drums (called “Tumbadoras” in Cuba).

There are still some Rumba groups in Havana using the cajón as part of their sets, often with conga drums, and other percussion instruments (bells, shekere).

The Cuban cajón is of wood, but is in shape more toward a conga, and is usually played between the knees, rather than sat on, as the Peruvian one.

The history of these Cuban cajones seem to have no direct relation to the Afro-Peruvian cajones, logistically that is, though culturally they can be seen as “cousins”. Though once both Spanish colonies, the route from Peru’s Pacific coast to the northern Caribbean port of Havana was far from direct or easy: the Panama canal still had to be built.

CONGO

Apart from the Spanish colonial connection, the cajones in Peru and Cuba do share an African cultural connection too, though, such as in Congo/Bantu African patterns, and some other African retentions as well.

Origins of enslaved Africans in the West could differ somewhat from colony to colony, but the “Congo” origins are quite evenly spread, connecting this African diaspora largely musically. Therefore, Cuban-based Salsa, and Cuban Son, Rumba, and Brazilian Samba have musically in part evident Central African “Congo” origins, but to somewhat smaller degrees also Afro-Peruvian, Dominican, Haitian, Colombian, Curaçaoan, and Jamaican music genres. This Congo influence was noticeable also in the earliest playing styles of the cajón by Africans in Peru, in the 19th c.: straight rhythms, call-and-response, etcetera, etcetera.

So saying: ”the cajón as instrument originated in Peru” is in itself true, but too simple. A separate origin was there for other cajones in Cuba, and elsewhere in Latin America.

In Afro-Cuban Rumba, as mostly among Afro-Peruvians, the style of playing was more on straight rhythms and involving call-and-response – like a set of hand drums or conga’s. This was altered later toward a more “swinging”, meandering playing style, adapted to guitar-dominated Flamenco in Spain.

FLAMENCO

Nonetheless, compared to most other European music genres, South Spanish Flamenco is still relatively “rhythmic”, also in light of the structural place of basic rhythms for each Flamenco style, hand-clapping, tapping on the guitar, and the castanets used in Spanish traditional music (and some forms of Flamenco too).

Furthermore, the guitar playing style in Flamenco is relatively percussive. In time, Afro-Cuban influences came back to Spain via travelers, bringing the Guaracha and other Cuban rhythms, influencing a new type of Flamenco, called somewhat mistakenly (Flamenco) Rumba (another genre), but in reference to Cuban rhythmic influences. Some music historians – such as Robert Farris Thompson – point at earlier rhythmic influences; Moorish/North African ones, but also of Black Africans in Seville, being there since Moorish times, around the 10th c. AD (initially as slaves), influencing Flamenco’s rhythmic “syncopation”, after all quite unusual in European music.

Into all these Flamenco traditions, the cajón fitted very well.

REASONS

Therefore, one can say that the cajón has also an interesting, international history behind it. Some relate the origins, by the way, to the forbidding of hand drums – for fear of rebellion – by colonial authorities, and that the boxes at ports became replacements. There were such prohibitions in Spanish colonies from time to time, and even after it, such as in 1915 in Cuba, when public African drum use was for a period forbidden. Cuba was then semi-independent under US control (Spain lost the Spanish-American war in 1898, and with it Cuba as colony to the US), but Eurocentric repression continued regularly, both by Hispanic and Anglo-Saxon authorities. Some racist policies similar to US Southern states even reached Cuba then, including racial segregation, though with differing intensity, and proving less applicable in the more mixed context of Hispanic Cuba.

Colonial prohibitions of African hand drums thus play a role in the cajón boxes developing – also in Peru -, historians point out, but also convenience, arising after all in port cities where cargo and many boxes arrived. Besides: the drumming on boxes - as alternative to hand drums - would neither please the authorities very much, while the exploiting bosses wanted the workers to work, I imagine, ha ha.

Actual hand drums of animal skin, required certain skills to manufacture, explaining why hand drums (eventually resulting in what we know as Conga’s) entered Cuban Rumba first in rural areas, whereas urban port areas as Havana wooden boxes were used longer in Rumba, before replaced by animal-hide drums.

COMPARABLE INSTRUMENTS

Always interesting is to ask how unique the cajón as instrument is, and are there similar – if not identical – instruments.

Square drums one can sit on have been known historically, sometimes as large frame drums, even in Ancient Egypt, and in Africa. Mostly, though, drums tended to be round, and even the square ones developing had animal skin as surface, rather than wood. The Gumbeh drum in Ghana and Sierra Leone – and among Maroons in Jamaica, and elsewhere in the Caribbean – is sat on, like the cajón – and with some playing similarities (using also the heel of the foot, to mute), but sounds different.

Drumming and percussion in sub-Saharan Africa – even of wooden instruments, like the Krin or Ekwe log drum – tend to be sharper and rounder, fitting polyrhythmic functions. The wooden Spanish castanets also sound sharper and different. In playing style, Guinee-area Africa and North Africa, and in the Middle East have some instruments with sonically similar “shuffling” and “swinging” characteristics, in relation to dominant string instruments in Islamic-influenced cultures. The bendir frame drum (with an attached string on the back, like with the Flamenco cajón), common in North Africa, such as among the original Berber/Imazigh population – shares a ‘buzz” feel in the sound with that cajón, as in some sense the way the Darbuka is played in the Islamic world.

CONCLUSION

All in all, also the originally Afro-Peruvian Cajón has an intriguing history, revealing different rhythmic traditions within Latin America, Africa, and the Mediterranean basin, and cultural influences.

Its suitability for these different types of rhythms made the cajón over time internationally popular, and widely used in various genres, even in Western pop or rock here and there, in India, in Brazilian music, in Blues and Jazz, but most – as explained – in Spanish Flamenco, wherein it interestingly gained a solid place.

Yet, having heard the original string-less Afro-Peruvian cajón’s dry beats, I must admit that I – being a percussionist - like this “dry” sound, slighty different from the later “rounder” Conga drum sounds, but comparable in sharp poignancy, that I like in polyrhythmic African-based “straight rhythm” music. From “dry” and groovy in Peru, the cajón became more “fluid” in Flamenco, but that also has an unique appeal, and embellished many Flamenco songs.

How a wooden box became culture.. More beautiful even: became a way of creative resistance of the oppressed, through culture.

In addition, of course, also an early example of “recycling”..

Reggae music lovers (in the Netherlands): Hobbol Backawall

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

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

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

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

Before this I have interviewed 10 persons – reggae lovers I know, “breddas” (meaning “brothers”, or "friends" in Jamaican parlance) of mine – here in the Netherlands.

I started the series on this blog with a post of June 2012, when I interviewed Abenet. In April of 2013 I interviewed Bill. After this I interviewed Manjah Fyah, in May 2014. For my blog post of August 2015, I interviewed, somewhat more extensively, (DJ) Rowstone (Rowald). In August 2016, then, I interviewed Vega Selecta. In October 2017, I interviewed DJ Ewa. Then, for my post of September 2018, I interviewed for the first time a woman, namely Empress Messenjah or Empress Donna Lee. In August 2019 I interviewed another woman, namely Sound Cista. For my blog post of September 2020 I interviewed another Reggae-loving woman, French but living in the Netherlands, Selectress Aur'El.

HOBBOL BACKAWALL

This time, I interview a “bloke” again (I mean, a man: just wanted to use the word bloke), whom I encountered in the Reggae scene in Amsterdam. I saw him in several places in (roughly) the decade 2010-2020, but mainly at events of the (Michelle van Boekhout Solinge-led) Black Star Foundation, organizing Reggae festivals/concerts and selecta/dj sets in and around Amsterdam. People like Johnny Osbourne, Lone Ranger, as well as "new school" artists like Exile Di Brave, performed then in the Netherlands.

At some events Hobbol Backawall was “selecta” or deejay, playing mostly Roots Reggae – strictly from vinyl. He even “doubled” at times as Dee-jay (vocalist) in the Jamaican sense, “toasting” vocally over Riddims, to nice effect. I liked the flow and overall style, but also his selection of Reggae songs, not dissimilar to my tastes.. some “overlap” let’s say, alongside – interesting – differences.

I soon found out his real name was Remi, but that he was known also under the nickname “Hobbol”. The name of his "sound" was/is "Back-a-wall movement”. That name seems to refer to a former part of the downtown ghettoes in Kingston, Jamaica, known colloquially as “back-o-wall”. It was since the 1950s known as a poor, neglected slum in downtown Kingston, inhabited by Rastafari adherents, at the place of where is now Tivoli Gardens, which in turn was built after 1963 (I have visited it: now with - decaying - apartment buildings, but still a poor ghetto). Interesting reference, anyway.

Over time I got to speak more with Hobbol, about where he lived, what he did, etcetera. He told me he lived in Medemblik, a small town, about 60 km north of Amsterdam in the North Holland province (a part known as “West Frisia”).

Rurally, and outside the urban hustle and bustle, but Hobbol seems to travel around, also as selecta.

Also because I usually enjoyed his selecta sets, I find it interesting to get to know more about Hobbol Backawall as a person, and his Reggae tastes and journey.

QUESTIONS

Where were you born and did you grow up?

I was born in Utrecht, and after many wanderings ended up living in Medemblik.

Since when (age) do you listen Reggae music?

More or less since my 13th year, Bob Marley died, and was played a lot on the radio. I immediately got pleasantly addicted. Doe Maar played a part as well, but also UB40 and Revelation Time.

What attracted you to it, then?

That music.. lovely!. Felt as if I was coming home. Until that time, I only listened to the radio, and to records that my parents or older brother had.

What other music genres did you listen to?

On the radio you mostly heard Pop music, and my parents mainly conveyed to me Protest singers, and 1960s music. Through my brother, I got to know Queen, as well as the Stones and the Beatles.

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

I almost entirely listen to Reggae and related, and in the time that I deejayed/selected I interchanged New Roots with classics, nowadays I listen more to Roots Reggae and older.

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

There is undoubtedly good Digital Dancehall out there, but it is not “my thing”. I love Roots Reggae very much, not just its Rockers sound, but love also tunes that are about something, and have a positive message. I further also like Rocksteady and Ska from the 1960s-Early 1970s.

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

Since I went for the very first time with a crate of albums/LPs to a camping site, to spin Reggae songs that evening. I liked that so much, that I immediately went to the nearby community centre with a mixtape (on cassette tape). This was after all more than 30 years ago..

Why the selecta name Hobbol Backawall?

I always played/spinned as Back-a-wall movement, and Hobbol is my nickname. The name Hobbol Backawall came to be, because Facebook required a surname or Last Name. That thus became Backawall.

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

Too many to mention. I still enjoy meeting artists whose records I have in my collection. If I have to mention one thing, I can recall a car ride with Johnny Osbourne. That day we came terribly close to a car crash, only because I hung on Johnny’s lips so much, that I forgot to pay attention to Amsterdam’s busy traffic .

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

At the moment I am not doing much. I am still partly involved with Shamba Lion sound system, and gladly help out at events of the Black Star Foundation.

Do you play any musical instruments?

Unfortunately, no. I tried to master the guitar for a period, but unsuccessfully.

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

I myself only play Vinyl, and have never done otherwise. I never even connected my CD player.

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

The message I get out of it, is “love”, and that appeals to me a lot. Thanks to the lyrics of Bob Marley, but also especially Brigadier Jerry and many others, I delved into and studied history, religion, spirituality, and Rastafari. I call myself a convinced Rasta, but if others call me that I still feel a bit “labelled”.

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

At home I mainly listen to Early Reggae, Rocksteady and Ska. If I’d had to mention one name now, it will be Slim Smith, but that might be because I just acquired a wonderful gem of his. He is known longer, besides that.

Inside of the Netherlands, I am a fan of Rapha Pico and of Lyrical Benjie, both great singers. I also appreciate the band Bagjuice, because they know how to “swing” and “rock’n groove”. I could mention many more, since there is quite some talent in the Netherlands, both singers as bands, and don’t forget the Sound Systems: more and more groups of friends build speakers together, and that’s great.

What is, you think, the effect of the long-lasting “corona crisis” on culture in general, and Reggae in particular?

The Netherlands are right now being ruined and run to a wreck, so also culture suffers. Even: especially culture. What surprises me most is that most people seem to accept all those “covid” measures, and still listen to those (proven) liars at the top. I specifically refer to the Reggae scene, with the same people singing along with Alpha Blondy’s song Apartheid is Nazism in a dancehall, not seeming bothered by the fact that others are not allowed entry into that same dancehall.

I am still optimistic, though, and think that in time things will improve. At one point, the people won’t take it anymore, and will rebel, or organize things for themselves.

Last summer, I could spin/select almost every weekend, in various places. No big festivals, but enjoyable, nonetheless.

Anything else you want to mention?

Cool that you invited me to appear in your blog. One love.

REFLECTION AND COMPARISON

I got to know more about Hobbol Backawall, and notice there are some similarities with my tastes in Reggae, but of course also own accents and differences. He seems to focus - qua tastes - more on the 1960s and (Early) 1970s - including Ska and Rocksteady -, I myself a bit more on the period 1974-1983, though I appreciate some older Rocksteady as well.

Hobbol, as selecta, played/spinned however from various periods, old and new. Indeed, I remember him playing New Roots (Capleton, Sizzla, Tarrus Riley, etcetera), even some (Reggae) “club hits”, alongside older tunes (like Roots). More importantly, the songs he selected were mostly good and groovy. I rocked my body line!

Also similarities with me, in Hobbol’s route toward Rastafari, through Reggae lyrics, along with self-study, seeming gradual and organic, like in my case.

Hobbol got into Reggae around his 13th year (early 1980s), I around my 11th year (since 1985). The Dutch Reggae- and Ska-influenced band Doe Maar – not the “realest”, but nice and adequate - I only got to know years later, but UB40 I knew then. I guess that after Bob Marley and Peter Tosh, I soon got further into the Jamaican “real thing” (Wailing Souls, Gregory Isaacs, Don Carlos, Ijahman, etc.). Only after that I encountered bands like Revelation Time, but I always listened to it openly, not as an uber-critical "Reggae snob".

Apparently, Hobbol made a similar musical journey, with different accents: I did and do not listen very much of Brigadier Jerry or Slim Smith, only a few songs, but mainly because of time constraints.

We also have in common – as selecta’s – that we focus on vinyl, and that we vocalize (toast or sing) over instrumental/dubs. I also use percussion intruments. So, well versatile, haha..

Corona

The “corona policies” have become to me what the jailhouse is in Gregory Isaacs’s song Out Deh, wherein Isaacs sings: “I was tired of the jailhouse, but the jailhouse wasn’t tired of me”. I am tired of them, - it's probably all deceptive nonsense -, but the policies won’t go away, with all those powerful "Babylon" forces behind them. Not easily, anyway.

Hobbol neither agrees with the lockdowns and other corona policies, as he stated openly elsewhere too, doubting like other skeptics - like myself - whether these really have to do with health, or rather with elite “control” or economic gain. He also fears a "medical apartheid" related to the promoted/marketed "vaccines"/gentech injections, to which he referred in one of his answers.

Besides the probably realistic - but depressing - question of who benefits from such a “hyped-up virus” under false pretenses – my educated guess: the 2% wealthiest people of the world – and in what way, these international lockdown-based corona policies since March 2020 were especially negative and detrimental for “culturally active” people. Especially those in "culture" for culture itself, and not for the money.

Those culturally active, after all, love live music, actual parties and gatherings with human company, and “creating/making culture” (music, events, dances etc.). Under the lockdown regimes (with NO proven efficacy against the virus, by the way), live concerts were mostly impossible, or made unpleasant (having to stay seated at Reggae concerts?), for reasons that were a lot, but definitely not based on science or even health/infection risk

Anyway, both Hobbol and I were indeed “culturally active” in the Reggae scene years ago, organizing, or as selecta, and I also as musician performing at times. That all was largely disrupted due to the lockdown policies.

Many of us, though, have found - out of necessity - creative ways to continue - and share! - our passions or express our talents: live shows forbidden or molested by “Babylon”?, then musicians redirect energies toward more studio work - and some to "spectacular", party-like video clips, haha -, sometimes with others, continuing to create and compose. Of course, online deejay/selecta sets “exploded” on the Internet since those lockdowns, also in the Reggae scene, thus continuing selecting/mixing, and somehow interacting with an audience.

Rent-A-Selectah

Hobbol also came with the good idea to operate as a type of mobile selecta, calling it "rent-a-selectah", travelling toward people with turntables and records, for small-scale or private parties, as selecta and “sound”.. a bit closer to the “real thing” – one can say – than another online/Internet set. He also "toasts" on such occasions, sometimes together with others, such as Black Star Foundation associate (and good toaster/chatter) Jahforth.

A good substitution, such "pop-up", mobile sound systems, and perhaps even an added remaining possibility.

Yet, above all, I personally hope that all those nonsensical, non-scientific government restrictions on free culture and human gathering will end as soon as possible, to enjoy “sound systems” - or “live music” by musicians - as they are meant to be enjoyed and lived: totally free, and with your whole body and essence: whether private, small parties or public, big ones with many people, and if desired deep into the night..

In other words: as Reggae parties have always been, up to those lockdowns/curfews. Parties/shows at which I could easily meet people like Hobbol Backawall, and many more bredren and sistren over the years.

Bodiliy integrity: control and autonomy

What really is “bodily integrity”? That is a question I ask myself not only for this post, but it is in fact something I asked myself during a large part of my life, subconsciously, later consciously.

It is a good and necessary question for human beings, consisting in essence of an elaboration of our own innate survival sense (“spirit”, “soul”).

It goes beyond the body, and that is where it gets tricky, and connected with all manmade corruptions and wickedness. Violence, rape and molestation, enslavement, confinement, are all sensed bodily, yet reflect overall power differences, the lack of an “own input” or “say” in it, so to speak, to whatever is done to our body. Therefore to us.

Crucially, in human rights discourses, the “freedom of movement” is often seen as part of this “bodily integrity”, not as a distinct, separate “right”. This makes perfect sense, yet in practice is still separated by higher authorities, with manmade boundaries, and border control. Recently with imposed curfews, supposedly in relation to a pandemic (some say plandemic). Bodily integrity, as long as you don’t move or travel too much or freely..

This corruption and confusion is so strong and even taken for granted to some degree.

As Bob Marley – as so often – put it simply yet eloquently in his lyrics for the song Rebel Music: “Why can’t we roam this open country? Why can’t we be what we want to be? We want to be free..” .

GYPSY IDEAL

There exists something of a “gypsy ideal”. The feel of total disconnect with responsibilities, living by the day, no steady place, while travelling free. As modern societies became sedentary, the echoes of the “nomadic” human forebears, were both feared and missed.

That gipsy romanticism is found in parts of Europe with relatively many actual “Gypsies”, now more known as Roma or Romani. Roma people – most probably originally from North Western India (Rajasthan) – got known as “calé” (from their own language) in Spain. In Western Europe, Spain is the country with historically relatively most Roma (Gypsies) inhabitants, while in Eastern Europe, Bulgaria and Romania have relatively most Roma “gypsies” , and quite some also in some other countries in the Balkan region.

Music and songs made by Gypsies in Spain, and in Eastern Europe, often convey that “nomad” or “gypsy” spirit of freedom and roaming, against confinements and obstacles from the sedentary surroundings (discrimination, limitations, persecutions, etc.).

The genres are different, as many Gypsies are active in South Spanish Flamenco music, which is exactly that: South Spanish music in origin, with different historical influences in that region (inc. Moorish ones, local ones, a.o.), but with later added Gypsy/Roma influences.

Flamenco is thus not “Romani/Gypsy music” as some think, as such, but South Spanish music, later indeed influenced by Romani.. Many Flamenco artists are however Roma/Gypsies, so through this best-known Spanish music genre, Roma/Spanish gypsies certainly contributed to Spanish culture internationally, even its image.

The Romani people of Bulgaria, Rumania, and the Balkan also were influential musically. They mostly, likewise, picked up mixed international influences from other cultures – with their travelling – adding their own style, such as what is known as Tallava in the Balkan countries (Bosnia, Albania a.o.). Due to their nomadic living, the Romani could not preserve fully original instrumental genres of themselves, only some vocal songs, and more general recurring characteristics they add from their culture to other genres found along the way, in music (e.g. hand-clapping) and dancing.. This is noticeable also in Flamenco.

In Europe and the entire Western world, most Romani now also settled/became sedentary, and the “nomadic” lifestyle became essentially outlawed, and strongly discouraged.

Maybe there is some symbolism in the fact that one of the few persons of Romani descent that obtained a high political position was Juscelino Kubischek, the founder of Brazil’s new inland capital Brasilia (his mother was of Czech and Romani descent).

The “freedom of movement” is therefore in itself framed and limited even on a local level, while crossing a national border can in none of these controlled societies be really done unnoticed, only relatively.

Looking at “bodily integrity” as such, there is much more of this systemic corruption slipping in these modern societies. Partly this is connected to medical care, but also to uniform school systems, required presence and obedience.

Also, for adults: going through life without working yet still eating every day, and having a place to rest one’s head, is impossible, unless depending on someone else. Humans are thus forced to participate in this (money-based) system, which of course in itself conjures questions of “bodily integrity”.

In the strictest sense: the right for your body not to be touched, chained, violated, or penetrated by others, without permission, seems in the recent century a bit more accepted by authorities. When you think about it, though, not fully. In judicial and police spheres there are legal exceptions, and in the medical field, with so-called emergencies.

This last aspect I would like to discuss in the remainder of this post, along the way reflecting on the current times.

COVID 19

There is a lyric by another great Reggae artist, Gregory Isaacs, about his time in prison (for gun possession, they say, some say cocaine), a song called Out Deh: “I was tired of the jailhouse, but the jailhouse wasn’t tired of me”..

That is how I feel right now about this lasting, frankly dystopic, “corona/covid 19 crisis”. I came – after careful studying - to the conclusion that it is a hyped-up virus, and that this is about elite economics and control, and not about health. I wrote some songs about it myself, heard insightful and convincing explanations and counterarguments by many intelligent people and true scholars. I also wrote about it before on this blog.

I guess that after this, my saturation point is reached – let’s face it: viruses had sometimes my interest but never was my passion..why would it? I find that theme not that interesting, as a person. I know by now well what there is to know – and what is wrong – about the plandemic. I prefer to look to better alternatives: reviving and retrieving the freedom and culture we lost. To show with my life how freedom and culture are the essence of being human. Despite even opposition, giving the example. After screaming what’s wrong, comes showing what’s right.

I maintain my same stance, however: this “corona crisis” (I prefer to call it “lockdown policy” or “pLandemic”) is about control, not about health. This brings us back to “bodily integrity”.

The quite sudden “urge” to control of authorities was somehow – successfully - camouflaged by the pandemic threat and disease “emergency” thrown into the world. Internationally coordinated policies against this supposed virus threat, included some new policy measures, including “lockdowns”, quite unknown in democratic societies, yet presented as necessary.

They were neither necessary nor effective (against viruses) those “lockdowns”, yet the basic human rights “bodily integrity” and “ freedom of movement” were corrupted again. The Covid 19 virus is not severe enough: now at an Infection Fatality Rate even under the 0,20%, with moreover specific vulnerable groups.. but like I said: this is not about health.

Curfews were unknown in the Netherlands, where I live, since the German Nazi occupation (1940-45), and the curfew imposition reminded citizens in other countries of former dictatorships (of Franco, Mussolini, Ceaucescu, Honecker a.o.) too.

Being punishable when walking out your own front door. Huh, how did that become illegal? Only propaganda and fear-mongering could make this acceptable without mass rebellion (safe in a few countries where authorities dared not to impose mass curfews). Of course a far cry from the “free, nomadic spirit” still somewhere in us humans.

More unacceptable restrictions became acceptable with these ever-expanding or prolonged corona policies, absurdly supported by most people. “Supported” is perhaps often a big word: some people “support” such limitations (having some interested goals, or for ideological reasons), while some “accept” it, like many accept taxation, paying the rent, or having to work: a necessary, inevitable evil. What can you do about it?

It is here where a danger lies. Governments deciding if private businesses can open and at what hours is absurd, but became only accepted because of a fabricated “emergency”, which is actually a hype, as it is a health problem that could be solved, well, medically, without lockdowns, as countless actual medical experts and professors have already said (often more or less censored).

Testing and vaccine requirements (even obligations!) touch most directly “bodily integrity”. Nonsensical (you can only infect others when really sick, vaccine/gene therapy not fully tested, potential side-effects, little effective and – just as important – not urgent or necessary). Nonsensical, and therefore even more violating “bodily integrity” rights.

This bodily integrity is important to keep in mind, as boundaries that are pushed by this plandemic should be pushed back. When you are not sick with symptoms, you should be able to go where and when you want, how you want, uncontrolled: no test or vaccine proof (private matter anyway), no required face-mask, no forced distance when interacting. You know why? Because you are not ill with symptoms, you cannot infect others more than usually. You are no danger or disturbance. You’re just a human being living naturally, further like always of course keeping in mind things like legality, and not bothering/respecting others, etcetera.

We are far from that now in many countries worldwide, during this absurd, totalitarian plandemic.

As could be expected, this extra corona legislation in many countries, provide more excuses for discrimination of specific groups, hitherto “difficult to control”. The mentioned Romani or Gypsies were before (and partly still) one of those “difficult-to-control” groups/minorities. This is – in my opinion – probably one of the goals of the plandemic – controlling the relatively less-controllable, but others may have another analysis or opinion about this.

Culture and free gathering are limited and affected most strongly, and connected “night life”. Curfews in “festive” countries with rich musical cultures like Jamaica, Cuba, or Brazil were very impactful and, well, destructive, and demoralizing. Luckily not fully. Again, accepted because many people do not know the virus is not so severe (comparable to the flu, now). Propaganda worked well. Instilling fear works.

So there it is: people are conditioned, even many in “defiant” countries (with rebellious histories), to (self-)control, with an added “annoying cop” in their heads, judging their own formerly natural behavior, like freely moving about, gathering/socializing, distance when interacting with others.. moving and doing, thus “bodily integrity”. For no good reason: there is no extraordinary emergency in a medical sense.

Just as bad that authorities and big business want this control (for money and power), is the popular acceptance. Not universally, but broadly. Apparently people who get by financially, and do not consider “doing outdoor cultural things” that important for their happiness. They have after all loved ones at home, a tv, and an internet connection, but also people simply “feared and terrorized” accepted it, and “stayed home”.

TRIMMED FOCIBLY

I see a parallel with a recent case in Jamaica, certainly concerning “bodily integrity”. That of a 19-years old Jamaican woman, Nzinga King, recently “trimmed” – i.e. her natural dreadlocks were cut off forcibly in a police station after arrest (for, they say, “disorderly conduct”). There is no good reason for this. It has no justification, rationally or morally.

Yet it was common practice in Jamaican history, in the first decades after the Rastafari movement arose, during the 1930s, following the coronation of Haile Selassie in 1930. Even up to the 1970s. Reggae singer Max Romeo explained that even into the 1970s, Rastafari people with dreadlocks had to “hide” to several degrees in Jamaican society.. At first beards were grown among early Rastas – and some copied Haile Selassie’s Afro-like hairdo - , later (in the course of the 1940s and 1950s) “dreadlocks” became more common, some say in imitation of Kenyan Mau Mau warriors against British colonizers.

Jamaican conservative authorities feared the Rastafari movement for their anticolonial, anti-authority stances. They had own, free communities - and outlawed income sources - the state had difficulty controlling.

HYPED UP

There is the parallel: the danger of Rastafari in Jamaica was: “hyped up”, exaggerated through propaganda, as it disturbed the social order. Like now, a mass hysteria or psychosis of sorts was stimulated around this among common folk too. This narrative was accepted by a part of the conservative Jamaicans (mostly Protestant Christians), more accepting of authority and the (neo-) colonial order.. Some out of conviction, some out of necessity: again: a necessary, inevitable evil for functioning in society..

There was never a real, extraordinary danger from Rastafari people in Jamaica: they were no criminal organization targeting other people. Their outlawed activity was marijuana cultivation: after all a plant being called (unjustly) a “drug”..

Still there was perceived or fabricated “danger”, legitimizing harsh treatment of state forces, against Rastafari groups, often - as elsewhere often too - with some invented pretext or excuse (supposed crime,even rape or murder). This in turn triggered police’s unlawful arrest, physical violence against Rastas, and, yes, the trimming of the dreadlocks, cutting this hair by force.

I consider natural hair as intrinsically part of the body, so that is part of the physical violence against persons, and thus the violating of “bodily integrity”. Likewise, being discriminated for your looks, goes against “freedom of choice”, but also“freedom of movement”: sure, you can walk and move about, just expect to be bothered and insulted. It still tramples that right.

Rastafari gained more and more acceptance in Jamaica over time, especially since Bob Marley’s rise to fame, and the connection of many Rastafari to successfully internationalized Reggae music, as known Jamaican export. Further insights and “civilizing” developments toward human and cultural rights recognition, also made that “forcibly trimming dreadlocks” by now seemed mostly over, and a thing of a grim Jamaican past, up to at most the 1970s.

That explains the just outrage among the Rastafari community in Jamaica (and internationally), as the dreadlocked hair has a “religious” or “spiritual” significance. Even without that “religious” meaning, cutting off someone’s hair (if e.g. too long) for a minor arrest is of course absurd and immoral by itself, but with Rastas extra disrespectful toward their cultural and religious rights.

Some of the fiercer critics of the corona/covid 19 “lockdowns” and measures in countries, call these measures a “war against individual autonomy”, and, relatedly, a “war against culture” (also a name of a song by me), or even “joy” as such. It seems like it, anyway..

The trimming of Rasta’s dreadlocks has unfortunately a longer history –as explained – in Jamaica (and elsewhere in the Caribbean, in Africa, and Latin America), from way before this corona crisis. Also the documentary Bad Friday : Rastafari After Coral Gardens (2011), relating events of violence against Rastas and dreadlocks trimming in 1963, documents this.

The essence is remarkably similar, though: a hyped-up emergency to legitimize violation/abuse of human rights, of bodily integrity, and with the underlying goal to “control” dissident, difficult-to-control groups in society - like once in some countries the Romani/Gypsies, or the Jews for that matter - , not fitting well in the elite’s wider economic plan. Especially a “culturally” (i.e. Afrocentric) dissident group like the Rastafari – in a pro-European, (neo)colonial context - was seen as a nuisance or danger for authorities and their societal control.

CLEVER PLAN

Using “health” and an “infectious disease”, as powers that be/authorities/”Babylon” does now, proved a clever plan for this control goal, perhaps more clever and effective than “public order” or (supposed) “criminality” as was used before to oppress people. Poor people did not like disorder, and even less crime, but could understand, grasp it, as very human and contextual. A virtually unknown, infectious and dangerous/”deadly” virus is another story.

Against this new clever plan of “Babylon”, as the Rastas call the “powers that be” or authorities (including the wealthiest 2% in this world, Bilderberg group, WEF, etcetera), Rastafari should hold firm to its principles of “cultural autonomy”, human and bodily integrity, and “(individual) freedom” against the prevailing, repressive, “streamlining” system. It did so since its start in the 1930s, and inspired even several resistance movements worldwide, alongside other Black Power and Human Rights organization.

On a personal note, as I listened and liked a lot of Roots Reggae lyrics since my teens in the 1980s, and even got into the Rastafari Livity definitely and more fully in 2010 (before that I sympathized), this Rastafari wisdom of rebellion against a powerful system, autonomy, freedom from mental slavery, cultural self-respect, and essential human freedom, helped me to “prepare” for even this totalitarian covid 19 nonsense, Babylon now came with.

“Just the same old Babylon, trying to run things to a wreck”, as summarized well in Richie Spice’s song Righteous Youths, but many Reggae lyrics more or less predicted this totalitarian “Babylon control”, against popular (poor people’s) freedoms and rights. It is in the historical line since conquest, colonialism, enslavement, capitalist exploitation, cultural repression, poor people’s oppression, so common in many countries in the world, mostly started or stimulated by Western powers, and a wealthy few.

That is one way to push those boundaries of violating bodily integrity and freedom back: the Rastafari sense of cultural and human autonomy. Even if it is against all odds, as it is necessary. We should not make acceptable what is not..

That 19 year old Jamaican young woman, Nzinga, whose dreadlocks got trimmed by a police officer, was arrested for disorderly conduct, a minor offence if any, but the initial reason (or excuse) of her arrest was in reality one of those Covid 19 rules: she did not wear a mask (on her own face, without symptoms, masks that besides do not protect well, etc.). It all interrelates..

Apart from this regrettable incident, I fear that – and in fact notice it already – that Rastafari culture will be repressed with “covid measures” as welcome pretexts/excuses” for this. In Jamaica and elsewhere. Apart from just the dreadlocks as symbol, the attack and war on the people and their culture, by outlawing cultural gatherings, concerts - “live” culture let’s say - along with increased censorship in the online context people are relegated to.. All this seems all too welcome for people who do not want Rastafari’s message to be spread too openly and freely among people, as it goes against their interests and power base.

Reggae music lovers (in the Netherlands): Selectress Aur'El

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

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

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

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

Before this I have interviewed 8 persons – reggae lovers I know, “breddas” (meaning “brothers”, or "friends" in Jamaican parlance) of mine – here in the Netherlands.

I started the series on this blog with a post of June 2012, when I interviewed Abenet. In April of 2013 I interviewed Bill. After this I interviewed Manjah Fyah, in May 2014. For my blog post of August 2015, I interviewed, somewhat more extensively, (DJ) Rowstone (Rowald). In August 2016, then, I interviewed Vega Selecta. In October 2017 I interviewed DJ Ewa. Then, for my post of September 2018, I interviewed for the first time a woman, namely Empress Messenjah or Empress Donna Lee.In August 2019 I interviewed another woman, namely Sound Cista.

SELECTRESS AUR'EL

This time, early september 2020, I interview another “sista” of mine, whom I met in the Amsterdam reggae scene, first as Reggae "selectress" (deejay). Her selectress name is Selectress Aur'El (spelled like this), the name simply coming from her first name Aurélie. She is actually French, though having visited before regularly the Netherlands. She is from Strasbourg.

I remember having seen her play as selectress/dj at several Reggae parties in Amsterdam since around 2016 (Paradiso, Vrankrijk a.o.), sometimes with her female co-selectress Maaike Waves or the Zen Rockers. I those times liked her old-school selection, also as a welcome break from UK Steppers some of the other selecta's favoured. Rather, she played old Jamaican Roots.

I myself (as vinyl selecta) for the first time played with her at a vinyl reggae party in former squatter club OT301 in Amsterdam, in June, 2018. I enjoyed her selection at that occasion again, harkening back mostly to Old and Classic 1970s Roots Reggae, and later Roots Reggae in that beautiful tradition. She played - again! -strictly vinyl. She also selected relatively often Studio One records, including from the Rocksteady era.

I specialize broadly too as selecta, but focus regarding Roots Reggae perhaps a bit more on a later period: e.g. the Later 1970s and Early 1980s ("Channel One" or "Rockers" era), though also selectively on Studio One artists I like. I enjoy Rocksteady more than Ska, like seemingly Aur'El as well. All in all, thus, Aurélie's tastes in Reggae music seemed similar and partly "overlapping" with mine, but still with own accents.

These "own accents" in Reggae tastes makes for an interesting article and interview, but of course also her whole person(ality). She talked openly and intelligently (and pleasantly) with me, so I got to know already a bit more about her, just "hanging" with her. We over time kept meeting, up to today, also at Reggae-minded events (e.g. King Shiloh sessions), and in bars and clubs (e.g. Café Belgique and OT301 in Amsterdam), and communicated online and in person..

Over time, I saw her also play more as selectress several times, and invited her to select/play with me at Café the Zen in Amsterdam - crucial vinyl Roots Reggae sessions! - in Amsterdam a few times, in 2019.

We further spoke about a lot, even a bit her personal past, and I told something too. Her English was probably better than my French (though it could be worse, due to my "Latin" background haha), so we largely communicated in English.

Still, there are I think more things I find interesting to know about her personality and Reggae choices.. Finishing the "jigsaw puzzle" with remaining pieces, as a Dutch saying goes..

Not just for me, but I think the readers of this post may find, in general, Aur'El's story and perspective interesting, as a longtime, now Netherlands-based, French female Reggae deejay (selectress), and Reggae connaisseur and lover. Something of a more "international" view, one might say. Therefore and henceforth, this interview with her.

Underneath the photo you’ll see my questions and her answers.

Where were you born and did you grow up?

I was born in a small city in the East side of France, grew up in the countryside, and lived in Strasbourg for 20 years.

Since when (age) do you listen Reggae music?

As a child I already listened and loved a few of the most “mainstream” reggae tunes that were played on radio/TV, but didn't know much about this music. When I was like 17/18 years old, my friends bought tickets to attend Burning Spear's concert, and this has really been a big musical (and spiritual) revelation to me.

What attracted you to it, then?

Did I feel attracted? Most def., but it feels a bit like I didn't even choose myself...More like reggae chose me. I almost became an organizer and selectress "by accident", but always had this certitude that I'd found my “tribe”. I don't know how to express it, but Reggae was always in my way. It was like a call ...I just listened to it ;)

What other music genres did you listen to?

Oh, to a lot of different things like Rock, Grunge, Rap, Hip Hop, Soul, R&B and even more.. We were a bit dependent on radio and TV or on friends' tapes that we were lending to each others. I was not living in a big city (no records shop), and there was no internet back in the times...I was also searching out my dad's records' collection sometimes, and I think that my very first musical crush was for Gershwin's “Rhapsody in Blue”. I'm still listening to a lot of different music genres, but the number 1 will always remain Reggae.

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

Back in the days, my ears were still able to take a tiny little bit of French reggae, but today I can almost not stand it anymore. My preferences have not changed though. I loved Roots Reggae the most, and it's still the case today.

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

As I said, Roots Reggae is truly my “thing”. I don't mind Early Digital and I'm even collecting tunes, but Dancehall is a big No-No, especially if it's slackness and has sexist lyrics. I'm only listening to uplifting music and I usually prefer edutainment to entertainment.

What about Mento, Ska, and Rocksteady?

I absolutely love these music genres... My former crew and I used to have a show on a French alternative online radio. My part was called “Jamaican Musical History”, and we started from Mento which I love. Without these genres, Reggae wouldn't exist, plus most of the legends of reggae have been part of Ska or Rocksteady band/groups.

Maybe this love I have for Jamaican oldies, has its roots in some nice childhood memories, as my dad was of course owning a few Harry Belafonte tunes. It was falsely labeled as "Calypso" to sell better, but in reality, it was Jamaican Mento.

American classics were also being played in my parent's house (on Sundays as well), and as Rocksteady is a lot about covers of those old beautiful songs, it certainly made me more receptive, plus it's a real “feel good” music, because it appeared just after independence, and Jamaicans were so full of hope for better times to come...

On Jah Music Mansion (webradio station), we are playing these beautiful tunes every week in our “Rice & Peas Sunday Vibes Sessions”. I had a slot too that day, and my mixcloud is full of recordings of these Sunday Oldies Sets. My collection of ska/rocksteady records is quite big too...

Really "rough and tough" to say, further, whether I like Ska more or Rocksteady more, but I think Rocksteady, because of the slower tempo..and is easier to dance to..

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

Since forever! ...as I have always been kind of a playlist bully, tape collector, or a daddy's records digger...

I started with Reggae Events organization first (in 2000, if I'm right) but I Ifficially became a selectress around 2007/2008.

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

I'm grateful because I had a lot, but let's talk about my Top 2...

The most memorable one was my encounter with Lloyd “Bullwackies” Barnes at Moodies records HQ in the Bronx/New York City (Big Up Everytime to Earl Moodie who made it possible!). I shared this great moment with Selecta Roastbreadfruit, who is one of my Best Friend in this world (and kind of my musical twin). By the way, I highly recommend to tune in to his Weekend Radio Sessions on JahMusicMansion.com, our online reggae radio. He is an amazing Selecta and Human!

Another very cool memory was when I've been asked to keep company to Living Legend Stranger Cole.

The band and crew members had stuff to do after we had finished recording dubplates, and I was the only English speaking person available to stay at the studio with him. We spent hours talking about Jamaican music... and this man is a REAL History Book! He told me so many great stories and anecdotes (it's really a pity I didn't record all of them!), and of course, we listened to a lot of reggae and rocksteady...

How do you consider the gender (male-female) balance among Reggae deejay’s/selecta’s in Amsterdam/the Netherlands? Compared to other countries, like France?

Same as everywhere else...It's no secret that there is still a lot of work to do in “general” to improve our rights, recognition, or the credit that is being given to us for whatever we are doing. The Reggae scene is no exception. It's indeed a much more masculine “milieu”, and I also encountered a bit of sexism, but in my case it's also mainly men who supported and pushed me the most to play music and express myself, so...

Maybe some women don't even realize they could be part of such things, and I even witnessed some “sabotaging” themselves. I have hope, though, to see more Selectresses playing at events, and more gender balance/"mixity" in a close future...

I think our most famous and settled “all male” soundsystems (the big names), should set an example...Usually females are only good to sing or play a few notes on a melodica for “just a tune”, TY very much and basta...I rarely see them invite a female selecta to play a few hours, highlight them, or just share the deck.

What are, more in general, the differences between the Reggae scenes in France and the Netherlands, would you say?

I'm not sure to have enough knowledge about the NL scene to answer this question...I'm still discovering and observing. It doesn't look like there are major differences. France is a bigger country which makes our reggae community also much bigger, with a lot of different musical families. I made good friends in the local Amsterdam reggae scene though (Big Up to the Zen Rockers Family'!).

I also really love the work of singers like Black Omolo, Lyrical Benjie, or Rapha Pico, or/and what is coming out from the Earth Works Studios ...In Amsterdam there are indeed a bit more female selectas than in my former city, and I especially rate Mystic Tammy and Sound Cista, because they are talented, proactive, and never giving up!

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

When I was still living in France, I was doing a lot of graphic designs for music related projects, organized a lot of events, and I'm part of a webradio called Jah Music Mansion. Even if I'm still playing my records then and when, I'm way less active since I'm living in the Netherlands, as I had a lot of different challenges to face and less time. Of course, it's temporary and I will get back to it very soon.

I attended a lot more venues here, though, than when I was in France... when that was still possible! I still try to feed my mixcloud account, however..

Do you play any musical instruments?

I did, a long time ago, but still play drums, though.. a few rhythms..

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

I'm just gonna quote Macka B here:

“[...]Well I'm not saying, that you should be playing
The 7 inch 45 only
But if you are able, go buy a turntable
You can also get dem with di USB
It's alright to play laptops, alright to play CDs
It's alright to play your MP3's
But don't leave out di vinyl, cah you can use dem side by side
With the modern technology, Lord ! [...]”

Why the selectress name Aur'El?

Blame it on laziness or on a lack of inspiration...I think I was maybe just not feeling comfortable to choose a DJ alias. A lot of female reggae singers I love just kept their real names as well. I just did the same and turned the “Selecta” part into “Selectress”, as a lot of pple were expecting a man when reading my name on a flyer...

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

Yes of course it does, since I'm mainly playing Roots Reggae/Social commentary tunes. I built some kind of knowledge about Rasta through the years, and I'm only owning tunes and listening to lyrics which are matching my mindset. I love and “need” the Spiritual aspect in Roots Reggae.

In a way, I think it even saved my life. Also, to grasp a better overstanding of what I was listening, I studied and made a lot of researches about African and Caribbean Culture & History, because I was pretty ignorant and - as everyone in Europe - got indoctrinated at school with an Eurocentrist kind of knowledge...What an enlightment it has been for me!

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

I'm mainly listening to oldies/classic Reggae tunes and Dub also. My fave singers are people like Horace Andy, Cornell Campbell, Slim Smith, The Heptones and so many more...To give you an idea, my #1 labels are Gay Feet, Studio 1, Bunny Lee, Bullwackies, SipaCup...

I also really like the Virgin Islands Roots Reggae scene, and I respect a lot the hard and nice work of the younger generation of Jamaican artists (Jah 9, Chronixx, Protoje, Kabaka, and so on).

Lately, I had a crush on an upcoming young reggae singer called Mortimer.

REFLECTION AND COMPARISON

Well, I can safely say that Aur'El's answers provided some more "pieces of the puzzle", and some very interesting information. This relates both to Aurélie as person, as well as her connection to international Reggae movements.

Teenage years

The "teen years" seem recurringly to be decisive in securing the musical love and tastes. I myself got into Reggae around my 12th year, while around her 17th year, Aurélie went to an inspiring concert, proving to be "life-changing" (in the good sense, not in the "Babylon" sense of crises, war, poverty, etc.), a concert that strengthened her love for Reggae. When I was that age, 17, I had started to listen to Burning Spear too ('Man In The Hills' being the first album), but only when I was about 24 (in the later 1990s), I first saw Burning Spear live (in Paradiso, Amsterdam), and a few times after that (Paradiso, Amsterdam, some festivals).. all great shows..

The "mainstream Reggae", Aurélie mentioned, I do not remember encountering much as a child: maybe in the Netherlands this was even less popular than in France, those days.. Before Reggae, I was in to some Stevie Wonder and James Brown songs (and some Latin American and Spanish music), but I liked Bob Marley immediately when I heard an album of him, around my 12th year.

The teenage years were indeed also crucial in shaping the musical taste toward Reggae, likewise of the other people I interviewed before, on this blog. Psychologically interesting: between childhood and aduthood.. Selectress Aur'El interestingly also described it as that Reggae found her, instead of the other way around..

Within Reggae

I had some ideas about her preferences within Reggae - having heard her "selections", live and online - which were partly confirmed, or rather explained. Like my previous interviewee, Sound Cista (Carol), also a selectress, Aur'El did not like modern Dancehall, especially that with slackness and sexist lyrics. This is in line with her interest in Rastafari, Black history. "conscious" lyrics, and spirituality.

Aur'El's focus is mostly on Old Jamaican Roots, around the 1970s, with some attention to New Roots too.

Every person has of course one's own tastes and preferences, within the broad Reggae genre, and there seem to be some similarities as well as differences with my own tastes. "Chacun à son (or: sa?) goût", to say it in French.. Aur'El's interest, like mine, is quite broad. She however focusses more than me (also as selectress) on older folk genres like Mento and Rocksteady, as well as on Reggae artists I know and listen too (songs I like), but less than her. Leroy Smart, Cornell Campbell, Knowledge, and Earl Sixteen are examples, but there are so much artists in Jamaica, that each fan can't help but choose, haha. We both like Hugh Mundell, Burning Spear, and the Wailing Souls equally, on the other hand, so still nuff similarities. Like I already said, she focusses a bit more on "Studio One Reggae" than me, though I tend to like it too.

Horace Andy is one of Aur'El's favourite artists, and indeed has a unique voice and style. Horace might be in my Top 10 of singers too, but perhaps below or competing with people like Tabby Shaw, Alton Ellis, Ijahman, Junior Delgado, Bushman, and others..

I also prefer Roots Reggae over (modern) Dancehall, like her, but I think that, in comparison, I am more open to some "groovy" Dancehall - when rhythmically strong and varied -, that is musically; yet, humourless, boastful "slack" lyrics put me off at times too. Like Aur'El, I prefer "message" and "conscious" lyrics..

Aur'El is further of the "vinyl" school of Reggae selecta's/dj's (like me, partly), procuring some authenticity, as well as connections to the Netherlands-based (Polish-French) Zen Rockers selecta's, Loddy Culture, Dub Nico, and King Shiloh - and others -, also preferring to play from vinyl.

Gender balance

There is an interesting thread with my 2 previous interviewees: Empress Donna Lee, known as the first female Reggae selecta/selectress (deejay) in the Netherlands, active as such already since 1983 (!), and the also Amsterdam area-based Sound Cista (Carol), starting as selectress much more recently, in 2016. The latter stated she still noticed a male dominance in Reggae selecta/dj world numerically, but mostly worked well with men.

Aur'El -starting as selectress earlier, around 2007 - is somewhat more critical, though also positive about male selecta's having supported her aims. She noted (a bit) more female selecta's and dj's in the Netherlands when compared to France, which is positive. On the other hand, she pointed at still some occurring sexism and "sabotaging" in this also male-dominated scene, calling for the "big name" all-male (Reggae) sound systems (King Shiloh a.o.) to give the good example, by including more women, in a structural sense. So, there is still some improvement and equality needed.

Knowledgeable

Indeed, I noticed in Aur'El's "selecting" of Reggae (live and online), that she is skilled and experienced enough, as selectress/dj, with good transitions (between songs) and choices, according to her taste, but overall "real" music, "authentic" (older) Roots Reggae. This interview confirms also that she is quite knowledgeable about Jamaican music as a whole, thus able to present nice songs that some listeners perhaps did not know yet..

Her style seems "sober", as the music comes first. Though she speaks a bit between songs (some selecta's say nothing), it is proportionate, and neither does she seem to be of the excessive "sirene-sound" (as special sound effect) school, like other selecta's. Just good music..

Reggae music lovers (in the Netherlands): Sound Cista

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

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

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

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

Before this I have interviewed 7 persons – reggae lovers I know, “breddas” (meaning “brothers”, or "friends" in Jamaican parlance) of mine – here in the Netherlands.

I started the series on this blog with a post of June 2012, when I interviewed Abenet. In April of 2013 I interviewed Bill. After this I interviewed Manjah Fyah, in May 2014. For my blog post of August 2015, I interviewed, somewhat more extensively, (DJ) Rowstone (Rowald). In August 2016, then, I interviewed Vega Selecta. In October 2017 I interviewed DJ Ewa. Then, for my post of September 2018, I interviewed for the first time a woman, namely Empress Messenjah or Empress Donna Lee.

SOUND CISTA

This time, close to August 2019, I interview another “sista” of mine, whom I know from the Amsterdam reggae scene. Her name is Carol Samson, also known under her selectress/dee-jay name Sound Cista or Sound-Cista. Carol is partly of Surinamese descent.

I chose to interview her, because I in time saw and heard her play as deejay/selectress more and more – these last years - , mainly at the Reggae-minded club Café the Zen, in Amsterdam East. She did also do other things in/for that Café. She also played on occasion in some other places and clubs in and around Amsterdam, and even outside of the Netherlands, as she got to play on a beach venue in the Spanish region of Valencia, not far from where the famous Rototom festival is held, in August 2018. She says she, as part of Jah Sister's (with DJ Jessi), will play there, in Valencia, Spain, again this year 2019, later this month (the 25th of August).

Her musical selections as selectress I enjoyed a lot, with a focus on good New Roots, and sometimes older Roots, by artists like Bushman, Lutan Fyah, Morgan Heritage, Capleton or Richie Spice.

Moreover, we spoke quite often the last years, in nice, open conversations, about Reggae music, but also life in general. Still, there is more than enough I do not know about her yet, arousing my curiosity. Underneath the photo you’ll see my questions and her answers, translated to English.

Where were you born and did you grow up?

I was born in Amsterdam. Before I reached the age of 1, we moved to Suriname. When I was 6 years old we returned to the Netherlands. I grew up in Amsterdam South East (de “Bijlmer”).

Since when do you listen Reggae music?

Since I was 15 years old I came into contact with Reggae Music. That is: other Reggae music than Bob Marley’s or Peter Tosh’s.

What attracted you to it, then?

The beat/rhythm and its lyrics. Reggae’s song lyrics were more about life, attracting me more than mainstream pop on the Dutch radio (like Hilversum 3).

What other music genres did you listen to?

I listened sometimes to what was in the hit parades, preferring most soul, funk, R&B, hip-hop. At home with my parents, growing up, I heard Salsa, Merengue, Bachata, and Bigi Poku (Surinamese music). From my period in Suriname, as a child, I remember that my parents also used to play a lot of Soul music, by Otis Redding, Percy Sledge, Al Green, the Temptations, Aretha Franklin, Oscar Harris, and Ray Charles.

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

Yes, I also like old school hip-hop and rap, fado music, bossa nova, but I listen most to Reggae

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

I love Roots Reggae, “conscious” Reggae, both old and new. I really have no affinity with Dancehall. It does not even resemble Reggae anymore, in my personal opinion.

Is there really no Dancehall you like?

Some Dancehall songs are okay, as long as it is no slackness. I like for instance What If by Busy Signal. Overall, however, I do not really see it as Reggae; I really love Roots Reggae, nice basslines, and music that touches you. I don’t have that with Dancehall..

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

I bought my first dj mixer in 2014. In 2016 I played for the first time for an audience in Café the Zen (Amsterdam), on “open decks” evenings. In November 2017 I got every first Saturday of the month as regular playing gig in Café the Zen. That was the birth of Jah Sister’s, as I play since then every first Saturday of the month with my dj sis Dj Jessi.

How do you consider the gender (male-female) balance among Reggae deejay’s/selecta’s in Amsterdam/the Netherlands?

I know (Empress) Donna Lee as first female Reggae deejay/selectress in the Netherlands. In the present time, there are quite some more lady Reggae deejay’s/selectresses than before, in the Netherlands.

It is still a bit skewed and unbalanced, however. Most deejay’s are still men. That does not always need to be a problem, though. I played/spinned together with several deejay’s, and do not notice that much difference.

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

For years I was a decent mother, caring for two children. When they left the house, I started doing more with my music hobby. I have been collecting Reggae music for years and wanted to do something with it.

Nowadays, I also promote the events of Café the Zen on Facebook, at times make a line-up in the case of different events on one night, or assist in other things when something is organized in Café the Zen. Furthermore, I make flyers for Jah Sisters, or for other deejay’s/selecta’s who do not have time for it.

I have also been a guest a few times on radio programmes.

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

I have a preference for Digital carriers: vinyl requires too much weight and space. So, headphones and USB sticks, though I also always carry some CDs with me, and can play with anything: digital and vinyl, even cassette, if needed. In that sense, I am well versatile. To listen to, I appreciate both Digital and Vinyl.

Why the selecta name Sound Cista?

“Sound” from, well, sound, and Cista from “Sister”, changing the first S to C, from my personal name Carol. Sound Sister.

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

I am not a Rastafari, nor do I have any religious conviction as such. I do however not eat any meat. In addition, I also do try to live in harmony with others. Regrettably, I notice that many – also in the Reggae scene – are polluted with the “Babylon” mindset, being very envious of others. They do not practice what they preach!

I mention this, because as a dee-jay/selecta/selectress, you come across a lot of envy and jealousy, people begrudging you, crossing you, or slandering your name.

I really do not have time for such “Babylon” things, and prefer to give my energy to positive people, on the same level and wavelength. The rest is unimportant for me, only distracting me from my mission: promoting Reggae, unity, and one love.

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

I prefer listening to Reggae, as I always searching for good music. In the past, Barrington Levy, Price Far I, Garnett Silk, Capleton, Lutan Fyah, Morgan Heritage, LMS, and Richie Spice were artists I listened to often.
Nowadays I hear a lot of beautiful songs, by both known or even totally unknown artists. At the present I listen, for instance, to the song Brother’s Keeper by Jerone, and Music Alone, by Ginjah.

REFLECTION AND COMPARISON

I myself now learned somewhat more about Sound Cista, or Carol, though she told me some of this before personally already. I hope the reader got to know now more about the woman behind the selectress Sound Cista, how she became a selectress, and her specific tastes and stances within the Reggae scene.

Her taste – and therefore her selection as selectress/deejay – are not so different from mine, being the reason why I personally enjoy her sets.

I prefer Roots Reggae over Dancehall too, although I focus perhaps a bit more on the Older Roots Reggae from the 1970s and 1980s. I am a Reggae (vinyl) selecta too, at times, and tend to play relatively a lot of chunes from the early 1980s or Late 1970s (by artists like Culture, Hugh Mundell, the Mighty Diamonds, the Itals, Twinkle Brothers, Don Carlos, or Pablo Moses) besides current New Roots by artists like Sizzla, Bushman, or Queen Ifrica. Sound Cista plays varied too, but a bit more focused on New Roots.

There is a bit more Dancehall I like, maybe, when compared to Sound Cista, though it is neither my main love within Reggae. So in that sense we roughly coincide, and seem to be kindred spirits.

COOPERATION

The jealousy and envy – and lack of cooperation - she mentions among Reggae deejay’s, is also noteworthy. I heard about it before, also from others.

Those kind of negative human character traits can be found among all humans and in all activities (workplace, hobbies, art, and elsewhere), but in the Reggae scene it is a bit more disturbing, in light of the espoused One Love and Unity in it, some claim to uphold. Of course, this then starts to reek of hypocrisy and hollow words. Many do not practice what they preach, Sound Cista justly says.

The lacking cooperation in the local (in this case Amsterdam/Netherlands) Reggae scene is also mentioned by other people I interviewed for my blog before, such as DJ Ewa, as well as others.

Kind of a ego-minded, self-interested “cowboy mentality”, I have called it before, and it’s there certainly, which is a pity. If you really have talent yourself, or work on it, you do not need to begrudge or keep down others, I often think.

Yet, there is besides this also enough cooperation within the Amsterdam Reggae scene, as selectas tend to combine and play together, or have so, on several events. Often changing combinations, in Café the Zen (Amsterdam), or elsewhere. Positive movements!

This goes even beyond gender or racial distinctions.
Nonetheless, some note in Amsterdam a distinction - or even division - between a Reggae scene with events dominated by White people (including foreigners, and some connected to the squatter scene), and one by Black people, dominated by Black people, mostly local Surinamese or African people (as audience and selecta’s), and with a matching different song selection or clubs to visit. Less Dub and more New Roots for a more Black audience, for instance.

I notice a bit of that distinction, but do not see it as that significant. Good music is good music, and good Reggae is good Reggae. It is all Black music, overall, in its cultural and musical characteristics. The harmony vocals from Older Reggae like of the Wailing Souls, the Viceroys, the Abyssinians, or the Mighty Diamonds are heard maybe more on some “White-dominated” Reggae events, nowadays, but on the other hand exemplify the beautiful African and Afro-Caribbean vocal (and percussive!) “call-and-response” characteristic, quite typical in Black music, to give an example.

I miss those harmony and call-and-response vocals a bit in current Reggae (with much more sole singers than groups), though I like much of the New Roots too nonetheless, because of the many talented artists, good grooves and musicianship, intelligent lyrics, and strong songs being released by Jamaican artists in recent times too.

Sound Cista certainly plays a lot of these great songs as selectress..

Fonko and soul definition

I recently saw the quite recent documentary film ‘Fonko’ (2016), which was about the “new” Africa told through its current music. Its screening was organized at Café the Zen in Amsterdam (the Netherlands), on the initiative of the organization Soul Definition: a platform with real-life films for a better society (https://souldefinition.net).

Whatever the context of its screening, I found it an engaging documentary. It was narrated by Fela Anikulapo Kuti, of course a well-known Nigerian musician, who died in 1997.

Fonko was in fact more about the new Africa, socially and politically, than about music as such. Sure, newly developed modern music genres – combining traditional and modern (foreign) influences – in several African countries, Ghana, Nigeria, Angola, Senegal, Burkina Faso, South Africa, got some attention, for instance certain hip-hop artists, and some artists involved in what is called Afro-House, similarly mixing influences.

The lyrics and messages of the musicians seemed of more relevance, though. This was in line with Fela Kuti’s narrations throughout the documentary, about the need for Africa to find her own answers and identity and get united, away from Western colonialism and its legacies, capitalist neocolonialism still dividing Africa today, or from Islam, wanting to turn Africans into Arabs, just like Christianity wants to turn Africans into White Americans or Britons/Europeans.

The musicians and others in the documentary expressed their views, and certainly had an idea of an own African identity, albeit modernized in this computer age, through digital equipment. This modern, by definition Western, technology, was used by these African musicians for their own musical explorations, but using African musical idioms, departing in that sense from “traditional African music”, yet still maintaining an Africanness, even in Techno/Digital or House-like music forms.

IRONY

There is an inherent irony in this, of course, but the history of Black music – also in the African Diaspora – is full of such ironies. Western technology, modern instruments, might mostly be Western inventions – or dominated by Western companies –, but played all central roles in the development of genres, and in spreading Black music. It was a welcome means made use of for self-expression, in that sense a case of “fighting them with their own weapons”.

Lack of money often inhibited and inhibits poor people – certainly also in Africa – from buying these modern studio equipment and instruments. Yet, this was circumvented in various, creative ways, though not always in the interest of companies wanting to sell their products. For instance, through illegal copying. A musician in the documentary Fonko funnily turned it around: he argues that those companies should consider it a “privilege” for them, that their computers and other equipment got used in developing modern African music. An interesting way to look at it: culture over money.

That self-expression as an African, remained the most important theme in the documentary, indeed through current music genres, and accompanying dances, especially among the poorer people in several countries, like Ghana, Burkina Faso, or Angola. Also in South Africa, after all, as musician Hugh Masakela pointed out, after Apartheid’s end and the arrival of democracy, the poor Black South Africans remained just as poor and limited, only with a bit less police harassment, and now with the ability to vote.

Music became thus a main vehicle for rebellion, and the expression of an African identity, and not just a way to copy Western culture, which was a positive aspect of pride and self-expression in the documentary.

Again, there is nothing new under the sun here. Looking at Black music in the Americas, one notes throughout history a similar trajectory, in Blues, Rhythm & Blues, Reggae, Funk, Hip-hop, and other genres musical instruments and equipment were used, that were all – in those forms at least – Western inventions and products, part of a capitalist system to make profit out of other people’s hobbies or professions.

This is, however, purely the material aspect of it. The “soul” of the music is something else of course. When a cooking pit is made in Germany, for instance, it does not mean one must only prepare German food, or if one drives a Fiat car one must not by necessity “drive as an Italian” (whatever that may be). No one makes that ridiculous assumption. As Bob Marley once eloquently said: “the White man has the technology, the Black man has the wisdom..” combining it thus in producing current music.

Relatedly, in a Reggae lyric of the Gladiators, in their song Looks Is Deceiving, there is the line: “don’t watch the tool the work it can do, watch the man that behind it..”

SOUND

An aspect that me, as a percussionist, intrigues me overall most, though, touches on the very essence of music: sound.

Actually, I myself have got to known MIDI - simply said digital “samples” of real instruments -, quite early on in my life, mostly through music software, in my early adolescence. We are talking about the later 1980s and Early 1990s, now..

In fact, I remember even using it (with my brother) on an “old-time” Atari computer, before the PC and Internet days. On the PC I continued with it, making songs with instruments that were copied sonically in MIDI. Standard "band instruments" like bass, guitar, and drum, or piano, but also instruments regarding which I did not know yet what “the real thing” looked like (Shamisen?), from different cultures in Asia, Africa, the Americas, and elsewhere, also beyond known European instruments (At least more known to me, growing up in the Netherlands).

I have always been quite rhythmically focused, and paid quite some attention to drum patterns, in Reggae and other genres, and also when I tried to make songs myself. I even added an occasional MIDI-sampled bongo, conga, scraper, bell or other percussion sounds to the “groove”.

REAL PERCUSSION

Years later, especially after some Cuban trips, I expanded my latent interest in “real-life” (acoustic, natural) percussion. I think those Cuban trips of mine (I took these, also having friends Cuba, between 2001 and 2006) played a role because Cuba has a rich musical culture and life – as some may imagine – but with the added distinction that mainly “acoustic” regarding instruments were – and still are – used in Cuba. These included the conga’s and bongo’s, timbales, scrapers, bells, maracas, and other percussion instruments – being quite prominent in (Afro-)Cuban music after all – but also different types of guitars, and an occasional trumpet, flute, or old piano.

Elsewhere on this blog, I remarked that I do not recall having seen much “drum kits”, as we know them from Western pop groups, in Cuba: mostly percussion had their function there. Yet, neither do I recall having seen many electric guitars in Cuba.. only a few times a semi-acoustic – or semi-electric - (standing) bass or guitar. Since the norm was acoustic in Cuba, maybe there it is better to say “semi-electric”, than “semi-acoustic” as said in Europe and North America with so many electrical instruments, seeming thus the norm. In some special centers, there were also electronic keyboards, alongside the acoustic instruments.

Anyhow.. experiencing many live performances in Cuba with real percussion instruments – not the “faux-MIDI” hand drum or percussion sounds I already knew –, I developed a love for acoustic drums/instruments, sensing it as “realer”, more natural music somehow.. “Purer” music, perhaps even..

Not long after these experiences, I started actually playing percussion instruments – including taking lessons -, starting with hand drums like the bongos, and conga’s. Soon after this I started to play also djembe, ashiko, talking drum, and “small” percussion like shakers, scrapers, bells, rattles, woodblocks, flexatone etcetera.

I make my own compositions (including percussive-based ones) and play with other people now (as a percussionist), resulting from this trajectory. This can often be found on my YouTube channel, like this video.

I had before that of course also my acoustic “fix” during live concerts, with actual drum kits by live drummers, and often added percussion sets, such as during many Reggae concerts I visited. I enjoyed that very much. Even Dancehall of the more digital kind got played at times with a live drummer and drum kit.

DIGITAL

I heard about drum machines, synth drum, or MIDI drum, and heard what some did with it, such as in Hip Hop, House, Drum & Bass, Techno, and even some modern Reggae and Dancehall. Some digital drums were used in Caribbean genres like Zouk and Reggae and Dancehall, creating a somewhat disorienting – or experimental – feel. Sometimes I thought it was okay, especially when rhythmically creative and groovy, and sometimes I missed “the real thing” (the acoustic, natural drum sound). There are catchy, groovy Digital Dancehall riddims/instrumental, even if sounding “bleepy” and unnatural, or with digital drums, as long as it is rhythmically strong. I still enjoyed them, or could appreciate the creativity, despite my personal interest in (and, in many cases, preference for) acoustic drums and percussion.

Something of that I saw and heard in the documentary Fonko, mostly focused on young Africans in different African countries making this mostly digital music (easier to make after all: needing less equipment and instruments), derived in part from local music genres. The digital, nontraditional sound might at first be disconcerting and slightly artificial – especially when one, like me, knows and is inspired by the rich percussive legacy in traditional African music. Still, a good rhythm is a good rhythm, being thus the African “soul” remaining stronger that a mere “computerized”/digital sound, however “bleepy” or technological and unnatural it superficially sounds.

CULTURAL IDENTITY

In that sense, it represents a good metaphor for Africa’s also social and political development in these modern times, using more and more modern technology, having to keep up with the Europeans and Asians.. but in an own way, and with an own cultural legacy, identity, and pride.. That need not be betrayed, as had occurred too often before, during colonialism, and as outside forces, as Fela and others pointed out, tried to Europeanize or Arabize Black Africans culturally and religiously.

As someone in Burkina Faso said in the documentary: “know your history, even if it is your misery”.. One of several memorable phrases and oneliners uttered in the documentary.

Technology is in that sense like money: useful as a means, if used well and intelligently, but in the end with negative effects when it becomes an” ideology” by itself. Then one is selling one’s soul. An ideology, moreover, of power differences, as of course the Western world, and places like Saudi Arabia, Japan and China, have obvious advantages over a continent like Africa, in both money and technology. This results in, besides a false sense of superiority, also in more and continued exploitation.

COMPARISON TO CUBA

This has to do – of course – with international capitalism (or: neoliberalism) reaching (and exploiting) Africa, explaining also some differences with the situation in Cuba, I discussed before. Cuba remains formally Communist, and with relatively limited connection to international capitalism or the market place, but also limited access to some of its few advantages, such as modern technology, or the Internet: Internet access is even limited when compared to the poorer parts of Latin America.

Failed or oppressive states/governments in parts of Africa, especially after the leaving of inspiring political leaders like Kwame Nkrumah (Ghana) or Thomas Sankara (Burkina Faso), led to the necessity of popular rebellion and inventiveness, whereas the very strong, but overly present and authoritarian (censorship, lack of free speech, etcetera), state/government in Cuba at least formally supports local musicians educationally, albeit with more meager funds than could be applied. Plus, the added disadvantage of being censored or otherwise controlled.

Inequality between a rich elite and the poor masses, is unfortunately also a reality in Cuba, despite idealist images of the Cuban reality some may hold. A Dutchman from Brabant I spoke in Cuba summarized it well, I think, when he said (something to the effect that): “the bottom is a bit less low than elsewhere in the developing world – with some, if scarce, state-funded securities - , but that bottom is much more broad..”

COMPARISON TO JAMAICA

I am a Reggae fan, and have also visited Jamaica a few times. I love mainly “live-band” Roots Reggae, and got overall less into the Digital Dancehall or Ragga. Only over time I can say that I got to appreciate some Digital Dancehall, especially rhythmically, combined with a certain energy. The modern technology entered Jamaica too, and more than in Cuba, due to its connection to the capitalist world. Electric bass guitars helped shape Rocksteady and Reggae in a sense, as with amplification it could make bass lines more dominant in music pieces. Electric guitars or electronic keyboards also came to Jamaica since the 1960s, and later also synthesizers, and synth drums, especially since the 1980s. So came digital innovations. One of the first Digital Dancehall Riddims was “Sleng Teng” for the song Under Mi Sleng Teng by Wayne Smith in 1984. This was actually based on a pre-programmed pattern in Casio keyboards, thus creatively used or “upgraded”, one might say.

The rhythms that developed since then in Dancehall – also the digital ones – departed from existing rhythmical structures (a faster version of the Rockers drum pattern for instance), and included further influences older folk traditions, and even some added polyrhythmic aspects, making it closer to the African roots of Afro-Jamaican culture than one might think. This later mixed with modern, foreign influences (such as from hip-hop or R&B).

In that sense, there is a strong parallel with the musical expressions in Fonko, as capitalist influences in both Jamaica and parts of Africa included this access – albeit troubled – to new technologies, music software, and other equipment sold as products on capitalist markets. Products that for that reason do not reach communist Cuba so much.

CONCLUDING

Musical and rhythmical – or broader cultural – characteristics are all shared throughout Afro-Cuban, Afro-Jamaican, and African music, as part of the African Diaspora. Polyrhythm and “call-and-response” as basic recurring components, with added variations in different countries. Many enslaved Africans ending up in Africa, also came from the countries featured in the documentary Fonko: relatively many Africans in Cuba came from the Congo region and the South of Nigeria, and relatively many in Jamaica from the Ghana region, albeit with also a sizable percentage of African slaves from the Congo region in Jamaica historically too: estimated at about 25%, compared to about 40% in Cuba. As slaves from the Congo/Angola region were quite widespread throughout the Americas, by the way, the “Congo” influence on the music in the African Diaspora, or Black music, should not be underestimated.

The musical characteristics travelled with these enslaved Africans, when they were forcibly brought to the West. These remain at the “soul” of the music, through whatever instruments expressed (acoustic, electric, or digital).

Perhaps that was what the engaging documentary film Fonko was essentially about: the strength of music itself – as culture and art – or specifically: as way for poor people to express an own (African) cultural identity - to maintain that in the current, modern global arena, despite global Western-led, exploitative capitalism, mass inequality and poverty, or (capitalist or communist) oppression.

SOUL DEFINITION

This positive, motivational messages expressed in documentaries, seems to fit the wider purpose of the (Dutch-based, but internationally oriented) organization Soul Definition, responsible for Fonko’s public screening, when I saw it last 24th of February 2019 in Café the Zen in Amsterdam. It has as motto, after all, ‘Edutainment for a better society’. The specific documentary Fonko even had as a theme, in a sense, "soul definition", like the organization's name.

Soul Definition – founded and led by Dutch-residing Greek Dimitris Meletis - has for those interested its own website, and on it you will find more information about the international documentaries it screens and promotes, and its goals (the latter under the Join section). See: souldefinition.net.

As of the 1st of March of 2019 (just before I wrote this!) these documentaries will be available worldwide through Soul Definition and its site (souldefinition.net). I saw a few of them, including thus Fonko, and enjoyed them and learned from them: it was truly “edutainment”.