Balafon story and AI

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

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

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

BALAFON FROM SENEGAL

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

COMPOSITIONS

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

This one was solely balafon-based:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

ARTIFICIAL INTELLIGENCE (AI)

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

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

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

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

WIKIPEDIA FIRST

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

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

SPIDERWEB SILK

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

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

OUTSIDE OF AFRICA

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

Indonesian music I know often has traditionally some xylophones.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

TOWARDS A CONCLUSION

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

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

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

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

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

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

Or was it not?

TXALAPARTA

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

FINAL CONCLUSION

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The journey of the triangle

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

INTEREST

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

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

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

ORIGINS

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

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

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

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

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

TODAY

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

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

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

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

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

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

FOLK MUSIC

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

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

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

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

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

OUTSIDE OF EUROPE

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

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

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

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

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

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

FORRÓ

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

REGGAE

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

ELEPHANT IN THE ROOM

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

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

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

MATERIAL

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

CONCLUSION

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

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

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

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

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

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

Reviewing Reggae from a percussion perspective

I am a fan of Reggae since my early teens (since I was about 11), starting with Peter Tosh, Bob Marley, and soon less-known but real Roots Reggae artists like the Wailing Souls, Burning Spear, the Itals, Ijahman Levi, and Gregory Isaacs.

This means it clearly preceded my later passion for “percussion”, as I would become a percussionist later in life.

TOWARD PERCUSSION

My trajectory toward percussion is in itself interesting, especially in relation to other musical instruments around me. My (Italian) father played accordion in his youth, but had a few harmonicas in the house, my Spanish mother small percussion instruments, including the Spanish castanets. Listening to music, my brothers got interested in guitars, the oldest acoustic Spanish ones, the other bass guitar. They took lessons in time. A friend of the family (son of Italian parents, friends of my parents) played fanatically the drum kit since young, somehow intriguing me.

Seeing a keyboard somewhere, that interested me a bit more, seeming also more practical to me than the stringed guitars. When my brother obtained music software, a MIDI keyboard came in the picture, which I also used. So the first real instrument was a “toy” keyboard and soon after a more serious MIDI keyboard - connected to computer software for music making, which had many interesting, “faux” sampled instruments on it, at least allowing to make music (basic bass and drum, other instruments, piano, trumpet, etcetera). Not “the real thing”, MIDI imitations, but still.. arousing interest to all kinds of instruments. I made compositions with bass, drums, piano, added percussive sounds I liked, or horns, etcetera.

Yet, in a concrete sense, “percussion instruments” were not yet as much on my radar, rather subconsciously and indirectly, even if shaping aspects of songs I liked (scrapers, rattles, hand drums on Reggae songs).

Interesting, therefore, to examine how I became so concretely interested in percussion instruments, after this “keyboard” and MIDI period up to my 30s.

To not make this introduction too long, - and knowing my life of course well - , I resume my trajectory “toward concrete percussion interest” analytically, into some main sources/causes:

1) Liking rhythmical music and dancing to it from young: dancing felt natural to me, as was listening to the drum-based groove, including in Reggae. I’m a dancer, at heart, and my sense of rhythm strong.

2) Making songs with MIDI, having “faux”, sampled percussion instrument sounds also available, using them in songs I made, through computer software. I mentioned this already. Think scrapers, rattles, hand drum sounds on MIDI (conga, bongo, timbales): awakening my interest for real, actual percussion.

3) My interest in learning and reading about Africa and it’s relatively “percussive” culture, including traditional music, and the African Diaspora: African retentions in the Caribbean and Americas. I liked reading also as a child, also about Africa. I studied the African diaspora also professionally a period, and personally. Soon after Reggae I also started to listen to African music, intrigued by sounds of (often percussion) instruments (as part of the whole), then unknown to me.

4) Trips to Cuba I made in the period 2001-2006, having also close personal friends there, especially in Santiago de Cuba, having been to Havana and elsewhere in Cuba too. Like Jamaica, Cuba has a rich musical culture, but one with many acoustic bands, not so much electric, playing live in many places, often in intimate contexts. I sat often close to musicians in Santiago de Cuba, who played percussion instruments, with hand drums like the conga and bongo having the “drum” function, which the drum kit has elsewhere (most Western modern “pop” music, in fact). Cuba however still used mainly “acoustic” hand drums, and other percussion instruments, like cowbells, scrapers, shakers. I enjoyed such live acoustic shows in Cuba, danced to this, and got since then more interested in “concrete”, actual percussion instruments.

Put these causes together, and especially after trips to Cuba, I started to notice the “scraper” or other percussive sounds more in Reggae songs I listened to then before, considering it also part of an Afro-Caribbean connection I now learned about. I began to listen more and more “specifically” to percussion instruments.

Speaking with more musicians, and with interest in black music and Reggae, I got advice to get drumming lessons (the drum kit), seeming to fit my rhythmic interests. The producer of my first officially released single (Rastafari Live On, in 2012), Robert Curiel, was a drummer, as well as studio owner, and hinted at that idea too.

I played with that thought, but found it both expensive and too “robotic” and technical. Too formal perhaps too, taking lessons on a drum kit, step by step, counting

Instead my free mind preferred the “hand drum” vibes I remembered from Cuba, just feeling the groove, intuitively. Rhythmical, yet also giving an extra “sauce” and embellishments to sound, and around the rhythm, often adding swing and polyrhythm to the drum kit. I liked that.

PERCUSSION LESSONS

I therefore bought my first Bongo (Afro-Cuban attached smaller drums), played with it freely on music (mostly Reggae), fitting the groove..

This felt good, and after some years, I decided to take formal lessons for Bongo and Conga with well-known percussionist in the Netherlands (from Curaçao), Vernon Chatlein, in 2014. To give some structure to what I really like.

The - mainly Bongo and Conga drum - lessons were certainly instructive and fruitful, - it gave “structure” - and I learned timing, keeping a steady pattern, and specific Afro-Cuban hand drum patterns (and some Puerto Rican Bomba ones), salsa, son, Rumba, also cowbell patterns, learning about both 4/4 and 6/8 rhythms, the “clave”, different uses of “straight” and “swing” time.

Later. I also took some Djembe and Talking Drum lessons (from an African).

These formal lessons definitely cemented my specific listening to “percussion instruments” within songs from then, in Reggae and other genres: hand drum patterns (more the kete drums in Reggae), scrapers, woodblocks, bells, etcetera.

JAMMING

After these formal percussion lessons in 2014, and some “technical base”, I would play along with jam sessions in various music clubs in Amsterdam (Netherlands, where I live) and around, and it went well, and my rhythmic sense seemed well enough to improvise as well, knowing when to add and when to stop, adapting to other musicians, and different genres. Getting in the groove.

Since I liked jamming with percussion, and it went well, I kept on doing this, up to today. It is definitely a learning experience, a kind of practical schooling about the nuances of rhythm and percussion in a wider musical piece. For years I am jamming now.

More importantly, people liked what I added to those jam sessions with percussion (they told me so, and it showed: it was for changing, international audiences), and this goes against prejudices about “jam sessions” that I note exist: “just ego trips”, I heard some say about those jam sessions in some clubs, as well as “anyone can participate”, as just a social activity. Of course this can be disguised jealousy.

None of these prejudices are true. As in the original Jazz traditions: when playing improvisational, musicians have to respect and listen to each other, give each other space: no hierarchy or superiority. Interestingly, this is according to many a historical response to the “dehumanization” and “infantilization” Black people in the US had to face for centuries. It also explains the much-used word “man” among Jazz “cats”: as opposed to the “boy” White racists in the US South often said to adult Black men.

In practice, jams function the same as bands aiming at a musical piece to please an audience, only more improvised, less strict and formal. People (the audience) enjoy it, beyond the musicians enjoying togetherness (which also is valuable in itself). In fact, it is “purer” as music, more than the composed songs written down to practice and get as tight as possible for some concert or recording. That is less natural.

Neither can “anyone” participate in those jam sessions: you have to have a certain level and feel, and the times when a musician with too little knowledge or skills on stage disturbs the whole quality, this is tactically and diplomatically told, and a song ended sooner, so the musician can be (politely) replaced. Maybe my “haters” hope this, but this never happened to me: I mainly played whole sets, and my additions were appreciated.

My bass-playing brother jammed a few times too, but said that mistakes are more a source for stress for guitarists than for percussion players: a wrong note or chord on bass cannot be occulted, it sounds off-key or “false”, while with percussion you can act like you just started a new pattern, he supposed. This is not entirely untrue, I must admit, but sometimes I just stop a bar or two, and then come in again.

COMPOSING

I further still make my own musical compositions via computer software, - now with more attention to percussion (and having more percussion instruments) than before -, and then I like to “structure” more technically and strict than at free jam sessions, like a band does: tighter, dosed, coordinated, toward a recognizable song, with repeated aspects and tight grooves, of about 3 or 4 minutes long, as the standard goes. This composing and recording for me is, however, is the “end”-point of free creativity, not the starting point: a crucial difference.

Inevitably, I obtained more and more percussion instruments (and some guitars, and wind instruments), and like other percussionists, my house became like a “percussion museum”. For jamming, composing, and recording.

This is where I am at now.

In the remainder of this post I would like to show how my later “specific” attention to percussion instruments in music and songs,- grown organically over time as I just explained – manifests itself when reviewing music, specifically in my favourite genre Reggae.

PERCUSSION-MINDED REVIEWS

I already studied the percussion (somewhat subdued, I found) in Bob Marley songs for another post on this blog, but now I am going to review it on other Reggae albums, ones that I already enjoyed before I “took up” percussion, and started to have more that focus.

I liked those albums and songs on them as whole musical pieces, as of course you have to start when listening music: you have to feel the whole, before checking details.

Yet, now in my life I focus more on percussion, as said, also because of my activities as percussionist. Reviewing songs/albums thus from a percussion perspective. I choose some (a mere, but representative selection) of my favourite albums.

GREGORY ISAACS – SOON FORWARD

This 1979 Reggae album is great, almost from begin to end. The “smooth” lovers title track is best known among Reggae fans, but it contains several good songs (also with “conscious” lyrics), having the involvement of top musicians in Jamaica of the time (Sly & Robbie, among others).

Someone I know said that the tambourine is very important in Reggae. This is not true. It is used at times, but a bit less than in other genres. Not more than in Soul or Pop, for instance. Motown was very “tambourine-heavy”, perhaps an echo of Gospel and Black churches.

The percussion instruments used on Soon Forward show this: a few songs indeed include a tambourine throughout songs, but most not. Recurring are the shakers or maracas (several songs), the Cabasa shaker (the Brazilian shaker with metal beads) – on Down The Line -, woodblocks (several songs, such as the opener), bells (sometimes soft in the mix), and hand drums (kete,a.o.) – e.g. on Slave Market. Mr Brown has the “flex-a-tone” ( a metal, “singing saw” like idiophone), a rattle here and there. The title track has an important role for the guiro scraper.

All these instruments I now play myself, so I notice them. Plus I notice how crucial they are in the whole.

The tambourine is present on about 3 songs on this album, played mostly quite loose, and not as tight “timekeeper” as sometimes in other genres. So hardly “the most important percussion instrument” on this album.

The extensive “hi-hat” use in the Jamaican drumming style (still common in current New Roots from Jamaica), probably in part replaces an eventual “tambourine” need or function. It simply would not add that much, while a shaker sounds more different from the hi-hat, thus enriching the whole sound more than a tambourine would.

I noticed all this already jamming, and making my own songs: you live and learn.

Songs:

(Percussion between bars):

1. Universal Tribulation (shakers, bells)

2. Mr. Brown (flex-a-tone, hand drums)

3 Down The Line (cabasa shaker, woodblock)

4. Lonely Girl (hand drums)

5. Bumping And Boring (woodblock, hand drums)

6. My Relationship (tambourine, woodblock, hand drums)

7. Slave Market (hand drums),

8. Black Liberation Struggle (tambourine)

9. Jah Music (tambourine)

10. Soon Forward (scraper (guiro), shakers, bells/blocks)

WAILING SOULS – FIRE HOUSE ROCK

Another favourite of mine, this great album from 1981. Real Reggae music, from a Roots harmony group, with more good albums. Backed by the great Roots Radics band. It does not even have the tambourine in it, but other percussion instruments, like the cabasa shaker, and the scraper (guiro) recurring on several songs (4 of them even), quite prominent – read: relatively audible or loud – in the mix. The album’s relatively “sparse” sound brings that percussion more to the fore. In fact, the songs would not be the same without them.

Tracklist

A1 Fire House Rock (shaker)

A2 Run Dem Down (scraper)

A3 Oh What A Feeling (triangle(s), shaker(s))

A4 Kingdom Rise Kingdom Fall (scraper, woodblock)

A5 Act Of Affection (shaker)

B1 Busnah (shaker (cabasa))

B2 A Fool Will Fall (triangle/bells, scraper)

B3 Bandits Taking Over (rattle, scraper)

B4 Who Lives It (cabasa shaker)

B5 See Baba Joe (flex-a-tone, cabasa shaker)

BURNING SPEAR – HAIL H.I.M.

Another “classic” album within the Reggae world is Burning Spear’s 1980 album Hail H.I.M, with several great songs, of which Columbus is best known, perhaps.

Some interesting differences regarding percussion, compared to the two discussed above. There is much more use of hand drums added in the mix, partly not very loud, yet “gluing” the rhythm together on several of the album’s songs. Burning Spear (Winston Rodney) being a percussionist and conga player might have something to do with this (playing percussion on this album, along with bass-man Aston "Familyman" Barret), and indeed the drums sounds often more like the (orig. Afro-Cuban) “Conga” (lower, cowskin), than the higher-pitched, cylindrical, smaller “kete” drum, as also used in Rastafari nyabinghi sessions. In the last 4 songs, incl. the “African” songs, the hand drums are a bit more prominent in the mix, both the kete and what sounds like the conga.

The bassline of Jah A Guh Raid – by the way – I translated to percussion, i.e. to a conga drum pattern. I play that one, among others of course, on jam sessions.

Tracklist:

A1 Hail H.I.M. (hand drums)

A2 Columbus (tambourine, hand drums, (cow)bell)

A3 Road Foggy (chimes, triangle, hand drums, rattle/vibraslap)

A4 Follow Marcus Garvey (cabasa shaker, hand drums)

A5 Jah See And Know (tambourine)

B1 African Teacher (woodblock, hand drums)

B2 African Postman (bells, hand drums, wood-/jamblock, cuica (friction drum))

B3 Cry Blood Africa (tambourine, cabasa shaker, hand drums)

B4 Jah A Go Raid (tambourine, hand drums)

RICHIE SPICE – SPICE IN YOUR LIFE

These are somewhat older albums, and perhaps it is good to compare with an example of New Roots (Reggae), an album that I enjoyed very much, namely Richie Spice’s Spice In Your Life from 2004, with “big tunes” (Reggae club hits), Earth A Run Red being the biggest hit, but groovy and catchy songs like Righteous Youths, Black Like A Tar, and Marijuana are also favourites in some Reggae places. Essentially, it is (as more New Roots albums) a collection of recent singles, recorded in different studio’s and (partly) different musicians. Now I am going to look at it from a percussion perspective:

TRACK LIST:

1. Intro

2.Sometimes (Spice In Your Life) (hand drums, shaker (cabasa), rattle/vibraslap)

3. Identity

4. Black Like Tar (woodblock/jamblock, tambourine)

5. Little Elements

6. Crying Out For Love (shaker (cabasa), rattle/vibraslap)

7. Righteous Youths (shaker, hand drums)

8. Run Red Intro 0:21

9.Earth A Run Red (rattle, hand drums, shaker (cabasa), scraper)

10.More Terrible (AKA 911) (none)

11.Folly Living (AKA Blood Again) (hand drums, shakers)

12.Check Yourself (none)

13.Move Dem Out (rattle/vibraslap)

14.Chalwa

15.Marijuana (none)

16.Outta The Blue (hand drums, rattle/vibraslap)

17.Prime Time Girl ((cow)bell, cabasa shaker)

18. Holiday (none)

19.Fake Smile (scraper)

20.Reggae's A Fire (hand drums)

21.Spinning Around (cajón (or guitar case), shaker)

22.Ghetto Girl (none)

What can be concluded regarding this Richie Spice album is that percussion is a bit “modest” – also often soft in the mix – yet present throughout, often “gluing” rhythms together, other times “decorating/embellishing” and “saucing up”, songs, in line with the “seasoning” function of percussion, as some see it. Buried in the mix, yet recognizable. The shaker – especially the “cabasa” is relatively common, adding to its gluing function, while more militant, protest songs – interestingly – have the “sharper” scraper (or guiro) sound, such as the big hit Earth A Run Red, and the song with Chuck Fender.

This is all no coincidence: hand drums recur in more “meditational”, or reflective tunes, and shakers more in “love” songs. This distinction is not clear-cut, but it is an overall tendency, related to the characteristic sounds of the instrument. The art of percussion, is the art of sound.

GENERAL CONCLUSIONS

Good to point out that I see these albums I chose to review seem fairly representative of Reggae from the periods (including from other labels as Perry's Black Ark, or Augustus Pablo's Rockers), and the artists (other albums of theirs often having similar percussion instrument choices).

It’s of course not just what percussion instruments are played, but how. Still, overall on these albums (and in my estimation based on what else I know) the shaker – especially the Afro Brazilian Cabasa one – is more commonly used than the most “mainstream” percussion instrument of all: the tambourine. The tambourine recurs here and there, sometimes even pumping – but overall more often the “sharper” shake sound of the Cabasa is heard. I think it is because that Cabasa sound fits the hi-hat pattern more, and the Jamaican drumming style is “hi-hat heavy”. Its sharpness befits in addition rhythmic “closedness” as eventual counter-rhythm.

Hand drums are further common, and the scraper and rattle recur also, as does the friction drum (cuica), with the animal-type sound (known also from Bob Marley’s Could You Be Loved). Also the metal, glissando "flex-a-tone" can be heard

Then, the woodblock/jamblock sharp sound also recur as “driving” many grooves, used well and audibly, often “spicing up” the grooves. The same applies to the cowbell.

On some albums, the percussion instruments fit the lyrics, though never that fixed, as the cabasa can be played “poignant” and short, thus appearing in protest or "conscious” songs as well, and as fitting, only perhaps in a bit more "reflective” songs, as the excellent Busnah on the Wailing Souls album. Other, more militant or “battle” songs on that album have the sharper scraper (called “guiro” in Cuba). Probably no coincidence, but sound-related. On the other hand, the “smooth love” and sexy song “par excellence” – Gregory Isaacs’ Soon Forward, also has a prominent role for the scraper.

The triangle occurs here and there even, such as on Burning Spear’s Road Foggy, and in intro’s of Wailing Souls’ songs.

NEW ROOTS AND PERCUSSION

Percussion remained also enduring enough to remain important in newer post-1990s New Roots Reggae (by Sizzla, Richie Spice, Tarrus Riley, Luciano, Lutan Fyah, Fantan Mojah, a.o.). It is not just an “old-time” outdated thing, but percussion remains being considered crucial to the Jamaican Reggae feel, by Jamaicans themselves. The sound is with modern means now fuller, more instruments, and digital additions/aids, and less sparse than some (somewhat) “emptier” sounding Reggae from earlier decades, making percussions now drown more often in the whole, though in some songs made more prominent to good effect, like on Black Like Tar (the groovy woodblock pattern). Burning Spear has a bit a “full” sound too, yet still has the woodblock audibly crucial in songs like African Teacher, and also in Gregory Isaacs’ great Down The Line: the woodblock helps to make that song unique and appealing rhythmically.

AFRO-AMERICAN CONNECTION?

Well, the guiro scraper remembered me of my Cuban experiences, and live music I heard there, often even “driving” rhythms, which is less the case in Reggae, as already drum-and bass-based, yet still the scraper can be "driving”, as in the Wailing Soul’s Run Dem Down. Elsewhere it adds nice counter-rhythms.

Most hand drums seem the Kete drum from Nyabinghi, higher sounding than the Afro-Cuban conga, which is present here and there, predictably more in Burning Spear songs, who plays conga. The Kete drum may seem more “rootical” and Rasta, yet the Conga, while internationalized, has Afro-Cuban origins, with Congo region presedents. A relatively high percentage of African/Black Cubans have roots in Central Africa, Congo, especially in the music-rich East of Cuba.

The well known double Bongos come from Eastern Cuba, and resembles more the Kete drum in sound, but less deep. Different musical cultures of course, although the “heart beat” pattern of Congo drum traditions can be found in both Cuban and Jamaican music (Nyahbinghi, Reggae), though fitted differently. A part of Africans in Jamaica had roots in the Congo region, though the Ghana and Igbo connections are a bit stronger, also leaving indirect legacies/retentions.

The Cabasa shaker is much used in Reggae (in general) and has Afro-Brazilian origins, providing an interesting link within the African diaspora. Equally interesting are its origins as invention: namely as a modern, more durable “upgrade” of the age-old Shekere shaker of Yoruba culture – and in Afro-Brazilian Yoruba-based music - , but then with metal beads and plastic, replacing the old shekere’s beads and calabash, proven vulnerable. In Cuba that old Shekere is also still used, by the way. The Cabasa modern variant was a Brazilian invention, with eventual international influence (via Samba), also in the West (sold by LP and other big percussion companies). Relatively often used in Reggae, but also in Jazz, Funk, Pop, and non-Brazilian Latin music.

It might well be – though – that Jamaica is the place where the Cabasa shaker is used most in local music, outside of Brazil itself.

The Jamaican (trap) drumming style is “hi-hat heavy”, and requires perhaps a study all by itself. The creative yet steady hi-hat patterns often are engaging (and extra-percussive) enough. The added percussions have naturally to adapt and relate to this. Interestingly, it adds polyrhythm echoes as African retentions, spread over different instruments, drum, percussions, but also bass and rhythm guitar, moving thus between “straight” and “swing” rhythms, combining quite uniquely in Jamaican Reggae: Salsa (about 70% of Cuban origin) is “straight” rhythm (as in Central Africa, Yorubaland), as is traditional music in parts of Africa where most Jamaicans have their roots (like Ghana). On the other hand, Jazz, R&B, and Blues, historically influencing Reggae, are “swing” and “shuffle” based (with roots in Islamic-influenced Senegambian and Guinea/Mande-speaking areas of Africa). It’s that “swing”/shuffle part of reggae that connects more with the “tambourine” (with resonating cymbals, crossing the beat), if one chooses to use it. On some songs, though, the tambourine played counter-patterns, rather than “gluing” all in a shuffle, showing flexible creativity..

Many of the songs on these albums, I enjoyed as a whole from the start, only later in life as percussionist focusing on details. This is natural and human. The percussion, though, offered a kind of extra layer to unpeel in songs, adding even more beauty and “depth” to the music, in later stages.

That is after all another way how some musicians – even veteran Reggae percussionists themselves, like Sticky, Skully, Sky Juice, and Bongo Herman (who plays percussion on Richie Spice’s Earth A Run Red, for instance) – describe the function of percussion (added to trap drums/the drum kit) within Reggae: as a seasoning, extra “spice”, embellishing, but also as adding “depth” to songs, and their rhythms, like some hi-hat patterns, hinting at ancestral Africa’s polyrhythm musical traditions.

The way Jamaican percussionists choose to play – some call it “between the bass and drums” – on and around the main beat, or “filling spaces”, show this polyrhythmic creativity.

Ghana percussion compared

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

CUBA/BRAZIL COMPARED

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

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

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

ANOTHER COMPARISON: GHANA AND NIGERIA

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

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

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

TRADITIONAL MUSIC

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

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

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

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

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

AMERICAS

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

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

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

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

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

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

HISTORICAL CONTEXT

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

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

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

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

DIFFERENCES

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

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

CULTURAL CONTEXT OF GHANA

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

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

AKAN

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

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

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

ENSEMBLES

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

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

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

ETYMOLOGY AND RETENTIONS IN THE AMERICAS

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

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

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

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

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

GA

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

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

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

KPANLOGO

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

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

EWE

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

MUSICAL STRUCTURES/PATTERNS

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

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

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

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

RETENTIONS IN JAMAICA (MUSICALLY)

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

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

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

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

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

MY PERCUSSION

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

CONCLUSION (plus RECOMMENDABLE LINK)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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