Showing posts with label ... record diggin' in Africa. Show all posts
Showing posts with label ... record diggin' in Africa. Show all posts

Sep 9, 2015

John Collins: Ghana, Then and Now (Part 1)






Originally published @afropop.org


John Collins has lived a life in African music that few of us can imagine. Born in the UK, he started playing with traveling bands in Ghana in 1969, at a time when few Westerners had even heard the word “highlife.”  John went on to play with many bands in Ghana and Nigeria. He befriended and worked with Fela Kuti, become a bandleader himself, launched Bokoor Band and then Studio (later an archive) where he recorded important music of the late highlife era, wrote a number of books on West African music, and, ultimately, became a professor of popular music at the University of Ghana in Legon.

Afropop’s Banning Eyre first met and interviewed John at Bokoor in 1993.  Twenty years later, he returned with Sean Barlow and Mark LeVine for a follow-up conversation. What follows is excerpts from both interviews, starting with John’s account of how he got his start in Ghanaian music.

John Collins (1993):  My father came here in 1952 to set up the philosophy department when the university was first opened. So I came with my father and mother. My mother didn’t like Ghana. My father did. So they divorced and I went back to Europe with my mother. I did all my education there. I did a science degree, partly in Bristol, partly in Manchester, partly in London. And I was a musician before I came back to Ghana in 1969. Actually I started as a classical guitar player, and then I joined some rock bands and jazz bands. And I came back in Ghana in 1969 to finish a medical degree that I had discontinued, . because I had wanted to go to Cuba for my student elective , and I got in a lot of trouble with the authorities who were very conservative.

B.E.: Why did you want to go to Cuba?

J.C. (‘93):  Because I was basically a communist. In the mid-60s the medical profession wasn’t very radical. But as the Medical School in Ghana had only just been established  I realized I would have to go back to the beginning of the medical programi, so I switched to the social sciences and got a Sociology and Archaeology  BA. degree at the University of Ghana  at Legon instead..

And then, by coincidence, my father had married a Ghanaian woman, my Auntie Amma,  and he built a house for her about twenty miles north of Accra. And in the house was a tenant called Mr. Bampoe who was the leader and main comedian “Opia”  of the Jaguar Jokers Concert Party. So I told them I could play rock music, and it was kind of a quid pro quo situation. I taught them to play rock music, and they taught me to play highlife. And that’s how I fell into the music, and since then, I can’t even remember how many bands I’ve played with in Ghana. I wasn’t in any way thinking about writing about music or anything, just playing music. I didn’t really start writing until 1974, ‘75, which meant I’d been playing already for about five years. But I’ve always been inquisitive.

B.E.:What was it like then? What were people playing? 

J.C. (‘93): Well, the main foreign star at that time was James Brown. I mean, everybody was crazy over him. And that song, “I’m Black and Proud” was everywhere.But for me, the first band that I played with was this concert party band. One thing is, in that for that sort of music, there wasn’t anybody that was the star of the music, I mean everybody played their part. They had about three guitarists, but there was no problem with me joining in as a guitarist. They didn’t have what we would call a lead guitarist. They had a guitarist that would play a tenor guitar, and they were playing the guitars rather like Africans would play drums, in interlocking parts. It was always dance music. It was never people watching you without doing anything, or just clapping. So I liked the whole feeling of the band. And also, these guys were really intelligent. They knew everything that was going on in Ghana. We went to villages, I met princesses, hunters, farmers, chiefs and all sorts of mind-blowing people  and situations for an Englishman coming to Ghana for the first time, or  rather returning to Ghana as an adult. The only way I can describe it—and this is thinking retrospectively—is, it would be like an Englishman joining a Comedia D’el Arte in the 17th century Europe, a roving band of troubadours moving from village to village, town to town  . But this type of itinerant art form (that  included local clowns and even female impersonators)    was still going in Ghana and it still had a real meaning. It was an actual genuine folk form, which had incorporated a lot of black and American and European music as well.

Straight away, if I played rock music and jazz music and rhythm and blues and stuff like this, I had an instant rapport with them, because they were also very interested in anything from outside. A lot of their music consisted of western music but filtered through their own sensibilities. For instance, the first time I ever saw or heard ragtime played really live was with this group. And tap-dancing. Because this artform, the concert party, has been going since the 1920s, and they’ve absorbed all sorts of black American styles of music, and preserved  them. They haven’t died out. They still use them now. There are some concert parties even now that do the fast stepping, tap dancing ragtime sketches and wear the minstrel makeup. But it wasn’t like walking around in a museum. It was a living thing. And it was all through my father, and the  coincidence of Mr. Bampoe , happened to be living in my father’s house.

hen I played with student bands (like the Deep Blues Feeling of Achimota School), more pop music. And I met and recorded with Koo Nimo [the great palm wine maestro of Kumasi]. And then I met E.T. Mensah, who was a dance-band musician, and I played with his second band, and he and I became very friendly and he took me around and introduced me to a lot of old-time musicians and I started interviewing people. This would be around about 1973. So around then, I began  accumulating information about the background of highlife music. And I went to the university, and only one or two people at the university were interested in it. They were basically antagonistic to highlife. They said it was “a hybrid music,” and that the only genuine types of music were European classical music or African traditional music, and that nothing could exist in between. So I sort of fell out with these people for a while, although things are different now. The university actually teaches highlife. But that’s only since 5 or 6 years ago.

They had these groups in the ‘70s called cultural groups, which were basically highlife musicians going acoustic, going back to their roots. And a lot of Europeans actually, in recent years, when they see a cultural group, they think it is a forerunner to highlife, but it’s actually highlife gone back to its roots.For   instance, there’s  this borborbor music that we were recording today in the studio. If you see a borborbor group, like the one I was recording, it’s all drums, and all highlife rhythms. So you might think this is ancestral to highlife music, but it’s quite the reverse. It was a traditional Ewe music that was influenced by highlife, and incorporated highlife elements.

So these cultural groups were the Ga equivalent to borborbor groups, and they played music like kpanlogo, which, again, looks like traditional music, but it has been modernized with highlife elements, and even elements of rock and roll, there are elements of the twist in there that came in through Chubby Checker in the early ‘60s.

Now these bands were very popular in the early ‘70s, so when I founded my own band, which was called Bokoor, it was modeled on that, which is basically a lot of African percussion with one guitar. And I also played the harmonica.

[John was married to the  the Ghanaian singer- dancer in this band, Gifty Naa Dodoo  for a while. He later married his present wife Dovi Helen and had a son colled Thomas Kojo Collins ]

My first wife was a fire-eater and snake dancer.  We even kept snakes under the bed.

I was the leader of the band, I was the financier, but I didn’t have to be the star. African bands, or Ghanaian bands, particularly the highlife guitar bands, they tend not to project one certain individual over other people, because they take certain elements from a traditional way of playing music. If you listen to a traditional African group, the guy who plays least is probably going to be the master drummer, and the guy who plays most is the apprentice. So it is in reverse order to a lot of European music, where the man who is the star plays all the time, and everything is focused on him or her.

B.E.: What does Bokoor mean?

J.C. (‘93): It means something like cool or collected or calm. At first I just liked the name. Also I was playing with the Bunzus band at the Napolean Club in Accra and Faisal Helwani (the properieter)  had another band there called  Bassa Bassa (hot hot or pandemonium ) . So I chose a name opposite to this.

[John went back to the UK for awhile, but returned to Accra in 1981.]

I’d brought recording equipment, because I had done a lot of recording in Ghana and Nigeria, and I wasn’t very happy with the quality, so wanted to do my own recordings. But in 1982, there was the revolution in the country, and there was curfew for two years, so it was impossible to run a band, especially traveling around, especially as a foreigner. So I decided to just switch to recording. So the Bokoor Band then became Bokoor Studio. So that’s what I’m still doing.

B.E.: So the basic rig you have there, the Tascam 4-track cassette unit is basically what you’ve been using for the whole time?

J.C. (‘93): Yeah.  I’ve got a 10 channel mixer, but I basically use a 4-track recorder. And I’ve recorded in the region of about 300 bands.

B.E.: Most of these cassettes that go out into the cassette market ?

J.C. (‘93): Yeah, when I first started in the early 80s, it was records, so at first records came out of my studio. The early ones I marketed them in Britain. Like The Guitar and the Gun.

B.E.:That’s a great record. Was it a particularly successful one?

J.C. (’93):  It wasn’t successful financially, but people did like it in Europe. I think they liked it because it was rather raw. They were looking for some raw sound.But in recent years, the record industry collapsed here, around about the early ‘80s, and it switched to cassettes, so everything now is done on cassettes. So what I do now is I do the recording and I make the cassette master, and that goes straight onto the market for duplication, but I don’t actually do productions any more. I just go as far as making master tapes. Basically I’m a recording engineer.

B.E.: And you’ve written books.

J.C. (‘93): In 1974, I wrote a book about E.T.Mensah, I gave it to State Publishing here, they sat on it, and finally when Retro-Afric released an album of E.T.Mensah some years ago, I think about ‘86, and they also produced this book or booklet. And then there was another book about the Jaguar Jokers, I also gave that to State Publishing, they’re still sitting on it, but I’m using it as the basis of my PhD now, in fact.

[John had already written seven books when we met in 1993, and he made a point about how they were mostly focused on the stories of specific musicians.]

I mean, basically, history is made by individuals.  It’s not  an abstract   processes. Rather historical, cultural and musical process can often be   pinpointed  down to certain particular biographies.

[At the start of 1993, John was in shock at the changes he was seeing in Ghanaian popular music.  The CD had just arrived, and was not yet recordable, and so appeared as a power grab by record companies determined to crack down on the easy possibilities of the cassette format. More troubling still, the very concept of the band, deeply tied to notions of family, village, and community in Africa, was vanishing before his eyes. John’s reflections are interesting to consider with 20 years hindsight. He was witnessing the dawn of the digital age, and was not impressed.]

J.C. (’93):  Well, it’s a worldwide phenomenon: it’s the disappearance of live music. What’s happening in Ghana, and it’s basically happened within the last 7 or 8 years, is that all the studios now, except mine, and  Ghana Films, no longer do live recordings. It’s all a series of overdubs, sequencers, drum machines, synthesizers—this type of thing. Even in the studio situation, they don’t have living groups of human beings playing music with each other any more. It’s all spaced out in time. The bass player comes in on Saturday afternoon and somebody else comes on Tuesday…
On top of that, the television is also doing the lip-synch thing. I mean, one of the reasons they are doing this, I think, is that if you create a totally artificial music, you can’t reproduce it live, because maybe you’re doing all sorts of harmonizing and this type of thing. So you have to lip-synch it, because you’ve got no alternative.

In Ghana, specifically the pop music here, live bands have basically disappeared. It’s very difficult to find a live band in Accra. If you want to find live music in Ghana now, there’s three main areas where you can get it. There’s the traditional music, which is still in existence, and this is very lucky for Ghana that the traditional music hasn’t been wiped out, because it means that there can be a re-birth at any time of live music through the interaction with modern technology and so on producing new styles of  popular music. That’s very, very important.

Second, there’s the concert parties, which still exist, but because of this lip-synching, and the spinners—that’s the mobile discos that have taken over the all the city nightclubs—the concert parties are only found in the rural areas now.

And thirdly, there’s the church. The African separatist churches broke away from the orthodox Christians, because, you know, the whites didn’t allow dancing in the church. It’s forbidden, or so the whites say. That’s the European version of Christianity. Of course, if you read the new testament and the stories of the last supper, you will find that they did dance. Even Jesus danced. But it was forbidden by the European Christian  idea that  the body and flesh are evil and so you shouldn’t move your body when worshipping God. So a lot of Africans started to break away from the Christian church because of this.

Traditionally in  Ghana, they worship God or their gods  on their feet. It’s unknown to actually kneel to worship God. In fact, when you are amongst the Akan, you point upwards, you don’t get on your knees. I mean, if you’re getting on your knees, it means maybe there’s a god under the ground, but it’s not the Supreme God. So they broke away from the Christian churches, these separatist churches, and started using percussion and dancing; actually very much like the Black American churches. Then very recently, about ten years ago, the local churhces  started to bring in the guitar bands. So then you have this evolution of gospel music, which is basically a synthesis of gospel, or singing about God, Jesus, and playing highlife and dancing to it. And this came at exactly the same time when the music industry in Ghana was falling to pieces: a military induced  economic slump. So the church was becoming a patron for a lot of  popular dance-music musicians. So if you want to see a lot of very spiritual live music, go to the churches.

 So there are these three areas: the traditional music, the concert parties, and the churches. But the popular music as such has become totally artificial.

And one of the problems right now is that, in all the studios, live drummers hardly ever appear anymore. It’s all done with drum-machines. I myself have got a drum machine. I didn’t want to get it. I got it about three years ago, because I was told by the musicians that they would boycott my studio if I didn’t . Then, synthesizers replace horns, so what you’re getting actually is the demise of live drummers and live horn players, which Ghana is actually famous for. And, although you can still find them in some places, like the church…I mean, if not for the church, I don’t know what would have happened to a lot of musicians.

What I’m worried about it, is you only need another five or ten years of this, and you’re going to get a whole generation that doesn’t know about live drummers in studios, a whole generation of engineers who don’t know how to mic up drums, who don’t even conceive of doing live recordings.
In the studio now, I’ve always got to use the  “ tweeters,” as  they call them, it’s basically the hi-hat on the drum-machine, and many of the musicians  always want me to make it loud using equalizers, ridiculously loud. And it spoils the music; it’s cutting the music unnecessarily. And because of things like the tweeters and this heavy, emphatic downbeat and the upbeat, which is all totally mechanical because it’s played on a drum machine, the voices are  therefore being cut by  instruments. And in fact, because of that, in a lot of Ghanaian music now, the voice is very low in the mix. And it’s not even a natural voice any more. It’s a harmonized voice, or a double-tracked or triple-tracked voice. It’s almost like people are losing the confidence in the human voice.

So the drummers are out, the horn players are out, keyboards are in, computers are in, and the human voice is kind of slowly sinking down into the mix. And I think it’s exactly like the expression  the: ”Ghost the Machine” about western individuals getting lost over the centuries in their mechanistic vision. But it’s happened so quickly here, that’s what’s shocking to me.

It’s happening in Europe too, but because it’s happening more slowly, there’s sort of an organized resistance or response to it. I mean in a recording session of an orchestra you can’t take the first violinist on Saturday, the second violinist on Sunday and so on. Or  if you went to a good jazz group and asked them to do everything via overdubs, they would just laugh in your face. They would say, “No, it will remove the spirit of the music, the dialogue between the musicians.” So despite all their technology westerners s keep their most important music as live music.

The one thing that gives me hope in Ghana is the fact that the traditional music isn’t dead. So there’s always this possibility, that from the traditional musicians, a new type of music can evolve. But even that, it’s not going to be there forever.

 [Fast forward twenty years. John’s Bokoor archive has withstood a devastating flood in 2012, caused in large part through bad land management by a neighboring saw mill. John is a senior professor at University of Ghana now, no longer involved in music production, he co-runs the Local Dimension  highlife band (with Aaron Bebe Sukura) but is still a savvy observer of a scene that has completely transformed itself since our first meeting. Meanwhile, Ghana’s popular music has been reinvented in the era of “hiplife” (a blend of highlife and hip hop that has now diversified into several subgenres) and the Azonoto dance craze. We start by listening back to John’s 1993 comments about the voice “sinking into the mix.”]

J.C. (2013): Yeah, sinking into the mix. The ghost in the machine. This did go on for about 5 or 10 years, actually. You know, that process of synthesizers and drum machines started with Burger highlife, the disco style created by Ghanaians living in Germany. And it continued even more in the hiplife generation, because you didn’t have bands at all. You just had either one singer or two singers. That problem about the voice—I mean, one of the interesting things about rapping or hiplife is at least the voice had to be louder again. It came back. It was predominantly of poetic mode.
And of course, lots of bands these days are using Autotune and so on. Ghanaians tend to use it at 101%. It’s not  used subtley because it’s a gadget, and its new, so some Ghanaian musicians  want to overdo it. But that problem is still with us. There weren’t that many studios. And even now, there are very few studios that can do a live recording. It is all overdubs.. And the hiplifers, they don’t really have bands. They have studio bands. So that problem is still with us.

B.E.: But has there been a learning curve with the development of hiplife?

J.C. (2013): Yes. One of the things is they have started to introduce live percussion with hiplife groups. With traditional rhythms, they will bring in the odonno or kpanlogo drums.  For instance, Okyeame Kwame will use fontomfroms or something like this, sort of humanizing the beat boxes with human drum beats.

You know, there’s nothing wrong with using a metronomic beat if you then weave around it a live drum beats. It’s quite a good way of recording. I personally prefer an acoustic drum. But I think even in the West, when they started with drum machines, they started adding live percussion to humanize it, and then adding other things like traditional instruments, and so on. I mean, when I spoke to you back then, I was extrapolating a situation at that time that was very negative, but it’s sort of picked up.

B.E.:Back in 1993, you did also talk about the fact that traditional music was alive and well, and that always leaves open the possibility of a Renaissance.

J.C. (2013): Yeah. A re-linking. And now, that is happening. That’s why the northern factor is so important these days. Because in areas like the  north, there is still a strong tradition of music.

Mark LeVine: Speaking of the north, Ebo Taylor told us that Islam in Ghana was just another aspect of life, not a determinative identity. How do you view the role of Islam in the development of Ghanaian culture in music?

J.C. (2013): Until recently, I would’ve said was a disconnect between southern Ghana and northern Ghana that is heavily Islamic , both traditionally and in the modern era.  The northern Ghanaian Sahelean traditional culture is quite distinct from the southern forest culture in its singing, its instruments—everything. Even after independence, you don’t get any significant northern Ghanaian popular music until about 10  to, 15 years ago. There were just a few exceptions. But now, the big reconnect is happening. And it’s because Jerry Rawlings put electricity into the north 15 or 20 years ago, and you’ve now got the beginning of a northern Ghanaian popular music, industry, recording wise. You’re getting a massive flood of music from the north, artists like Atongo  Zimba and King Ayisoba and, Sheriff  Ghale. And this includes hip life, reggae, local music. Samini, the hiplife artist,  for instance, is a northerner, as is the reggae star Rocky Dawuni.

Sean Barlow: At this point, we’ve had over 15 years of hiplife music.  What has been your experience of that development?

J.C. (2013):  There were three things going on at the same time really: generation change, technology, and identity. The early hiplifers had to stick  their nose up at their parents, like every young generation has to. Second, there were the changes in technology resulting in techno-pop styles like burger highlife and hiplife. And third there was a change in musical identity that was  a byproduct of the military era, which not only destroyed most of the live bands and role models for the youth, but they also took music out of the education system. So basically, by the early  ‘90s, we have had a generation going through school, , who are not familiar with Western band instruments as the bands that used them  had  died off. Then the technology came in to save them, because the youth  can use a  ghetto blaster or beat box and do some rap over them . In some ways, it was like what happened in the states with Reagan when he demoted music and a lot of the black youth couldn’t get access to musical instruments. One of the triggers for rap and hip-hop in America was a byproduct of the demotion of music in the school system. Something very similar happened in Ghana when the  Rawlings government decided in the late 1980s to  make the education system more technical and therefore  marginalised music.

So live musicians had gone to the churches. But in the early days, I really think hiplife was a statement of by the youth against their parents. So it was decontextualized. It wasn’t American, ghetto, black oppression music. It was simply music to get up the nose of their parents. They would sing very fast, double-fast singing. Nobody could understand it, not even their own parents.
And because their parents were dancing to live bands, the youth decided to not dance. There was a time when hiplifers didn’t dance at shows. This has changed now, of course, because of Azonto. Finally! But it took it 15 years to get a specific dance attached to hiplife . You know, in Ghana, highlife, Afrobeat, everything comes with its accompanying dance. So there was this disconnection between hiplife and a recognized form of dance that went with it. You could freestyle of course. In fact, the style in early hiplife was to jump up and down in front of  a rap hero who himself was lip-synching.

 So these were all experiments in alienation—but not  like western punk music where experiments with alienation (like noisy music, black clothes, cadaverous make-up)  were meant to prove  society had become  decadent or decayed, like what Margaret Thatcher had done to Britain.  For Ghanaian youth the  use of alientating techniques  such as miming etc  was more a statement against the older generation.

Reggie Rockstone created the term “hiplife” in about 1994 or , 95. I guess the style had been around for about five years. But it was sung in American English. Then he made that first transformation by rapping in the local language. But the music itself lagged behind. And also the format of performance was usually mimed.

You know, in about 2000, I played at a Reggie Rockstone show with Aaron Sukura. This was a terrible experience we had playing for 5000 hiplife youth. It was us (the Local Dimension highlife band) and the Pan African Orchestra, led by Nana Danso Abiam. We had known Reggie Rockstone’s father, Osei. So when he died, as a courtesy, we older generation opened up this  hiplife show in honour of Rockstone’s dad. We played along with about 10 hiplifeacts, and in front of 5000 youth. And when we started playing, there was almost a riot. But because of our lyrics–we were singing a song in Twi about corruption–half the crowd sang with us, and were able to stop the other half booing us, simply because of the lyrics. Basically the last thing the youth  wanted to see was a live band. They are the young generation, and live bands are dead. That’s for the older generation.
I think we managed to play one song. Fine. And then Nana Danso came on stage, but he was playing instrumental. He was booed and couldn’t even finish one song. Reggie had to stop the show and politely get them off the stage. To make way for the hiplife groups

Sean Barlow: Looking at the hiplife scene now, do you find any of these artists reaching into the traditions of the past in Ghana?

J.C. (2013): Oh yes, a whole bunch of them. Take Obour, the head of the musicians union.  He did an album with AB Crentsil some years ago. You see, what happened was, in the beginning, hiplife was very derivative of American music, except for the words. Not much African music material. Reggie Rockstone, I think he used some of Fela’s rhythms. But basically, it was more American funk music, with African lyrics, or Twi lyrics. So about 2002, about 10 or 11 years ago, there was the beginning of a shift towards performing live and integrating African rhythms, and collaborations with highlife stars, for instance Pat Thomas. I can’t remember which hip lifer made a song with him. But Pat Thomas actually took him to court for copyright infringements as he never aksed Pat Thomas for permission .

Banning Eyre:  Did he win his case?

J.C. (2013): I think he did.

B.E.: But this sounds like an improvement overall, right?

J.C. (2013): Well, as you know, I got very depressed because the musicians were moving towards robotic music, or alienated forms of music. I thought, then what is the future of Ghana? But they’ve come completely out of that now.   Well maybe not completely, but I’m trying to be optimistic. There are signs that they’re coming out of it. And don’t forget. I went through the punk thing in Britain. But there were reasons for that. Those experiments in alienation, sticking pins in the face. cadaverous looks,  anti-establishment lyrics and all these types of things was a reflection on the state of UK decay. You’ve (i.e. the ruling class)  created hell on earth for us, so we’ve come to create the background music of hell. That’s what it was about, always wearing black and looking very somber and so on.

But in Ghana  the alienation of lip-synched  shows, super fast (kasa harri) lyrics  baggy trousers  etc was simply a generational thing.  Sydney  was the first hiplifer to attempt to play live. I’d love to find out what was the trigger. I personally believe that he went to Britain or America and tried to mime in front of an international audience, and realized you can’t. Anyway, there started to be this experimentation with highlife crossovers and taking highlife loops. And it led to a breakaway.

B.E.: In 1993, you tied the breakdown of live bands as popular entertainment to the breakdown of the family unit, and the village unit, communalism generally.

 J.C. (2013): Yes, that is the great disaster, actually,one of the biggest disasters that has befallen Ghana in the last 50 years. And luckily enough, we have a running commentary on this because of highlife songs and concert party plays from the 1950s through ‘80s. One of the big themes in these linked performing arts was the breakup of the family–broken homes. There were no such things as broken homes traditionally. If you were orphaned, you were dead. You couldn’t be a rugged  individualist – if you were, you were a witch. So everyone belonged to a social network. And what Europeans brought in through education, modern economic stratification, urban migration, the cash nexus and Christian norms about a nuclear family, was the destruction of the extended family. And as you know, when anyone  gets a divorce, love turns  into hatred. And when whole extended families break up it’s the same thing and its  very bitter. So actually, a ‘civil war’ broke out among Ghanaian families, particularly in the Southern  cocoa cash-crop areas.

There were inheritance disputes, witchcraft accusations, orphaned children. And this became a dominant theme in highlife and popular theatre from the 1950s on as Ghana moved towards the small nuclear family. So in popular text there were themes  like  ‘agyanka” (orphan)  and  “abusua bone ,” bad family and  witchcraft within the family.

Witchcraft in Ghana was traditionally connected with unusual wealth and power of an individual, in a relatively egalitarian society. When Western ‘civilization’  capitalist competition and modern social classes came to Africa  there was a massive increase in  the growth of witchcraft accusations, because witchcraft was the African metaphor for evil stemming from excessive egoistic power and wealth. During colonial times there  were even  uprising agains witches, , who were the ‘warrent chiefs’ imposed on Africans by the British. In fact, Christianity  and colonialism,  far from reducing witchcraft,  rather encouraged witchcraft accusations and anti-witchcraft  movements in Ghana and elsewhere in Africa.

I’m not saying there weren’t demonic or evil forces in traditional Africa, but they had ways of controlling it. However,  the anti-witchcraft shrines were banned by the colonialists who at the same time  introduced capitalist inequalities and ultra individualism which were seen in traditional African eyes, as a case of massive witchcraft. With social stratification some people within the modern economy  became  very rich and powerful  whilst others become very poor. And this all impacted the families. Families broke up. . Sociologists and developmental people might call the breakdown of the traditional extended family system as ‘ progress’,   but in fact it led to a loss of security and growing anxiety.  So we’re lucky we have a running commentary on this disaster through the highlife  songs and concert party plays of the very people undergoing this trauma.

B.E.:Is this running commentary continuing in today’s music?

J.C. (2013): Not in hiplife,as these   are the product of the nuclear families. Infact hiplife started in the 1990s with middle-class urban youth. The hiplifers  are the new people of the Ghanaian individualized and consumer society. Broken homes and witchcraft were the themes  of an earlier epoch when the extended families  were still breaking up, and they hadn’t reached the modern nuclear family state.

One of the problems with hiplife in connection with individualism is that it’s from an urban  generation who want to become famous fast. So they’re very prone to go onto radio and television and make themselves famous artificially. The DJs are their own peer group and so  there’s a lot of exposure on the radio to hiplife. But this is not so  for  the church. The church is operating in a more organic way. But that’s where, the future of Ghanaian  popular dance music is really being determined. Infact some estimates put the gospel music  of  the Ghanaian churches as 60 or even 70 percent of the total output of the countries popular music.

Only 15% of the Ghanaian population is Muslim (quite different from Nigeria)  whilst 65%  is now Christian. Black forms of Christianity have very beneficial effects. Look at America and the black churches with the civil rights movement and Martin Luther King. And don’t forget what Karl Marx said.about religion being  the ‘opiate of the people’. Sensible enough and  we all know that. In the same phrase from his Communist Manifesto of the 1840s he  continues that religion is the ‘sigh of the oppressed’.. He’s getting a little bit deeper there. Then he goes really deep when he ends by saying that . religion is the ‘heart of a heartless world’ . It is the last part of that statement, that’s always truncated. And his observation applies right now to Ghana. The ‘heart’  of Ghana, was embedded in its live performance, traditional music and  highlife. But Ghana has moved  towards a ‘heartless world’ ,  of military governments, hi-technology  and  neo-liberalism. So, one aspect of the  heart of a Ghanaian, in terms of music performance, has gone into  the African churches with their dancing to live gospel music.  But not so much into the commercial popular music sector  because there is little live performance and only  few clubs that cater for this form of music ,.. But there are thousands of churches.If you really want to get a sense of how lively and spirited the popular music was in Ghana, say 30 years ago when  the center of everything were live shows, then go to a Ghanaian church.

B.E.:You seem to have mixed feelings about the effects of these Protestant churches.

J.C. (2013): Because in Ghana, it was back to front.  Europeans introduced Western capitalism to a country that still believed in family connections, ,and communal  taboos and so on. Collective punishment,collective responsibilities and not  individual rights. In traditional Africa, it wasn’t the individual that was the unit of society,it was the family. But these ideas were depicted negatively by Europeans – as nepotism, superstition and against personal liberty and individual rights,
What we’ve seen in the last 30 years is the failure of the African alternative to modern technological development. It’s different from what we’ve seen happen in China, or Japan, or India that survived colonial balkanization . With the  or destabilization or even overthrow of the early Pan African socialist leaders (like Nkrumah and Lumumba), this wasn’t allowed to happen in Africa. So they’ve gone to the Western model. But to do this, African  have to go now through  a Protestant Awakening, just as Europe did in the 18th and 19th centuries with it resulting  ‘work ethic and heightened sennse of individualism.    But Ghanaian are going into an  individualistic mode years  after  the  creation of a capitalist society set up by the colonialists , So it’s back to front as compared to the West  where a Protestant Reformation and Awakening had to occur before the forces of capitalism and  private property could be unleashed . So these days many African want to become like the West, not just in the system of rule, but in the way they think and play music, individual rights, egoism and the solo super-star. So, obviously, the Protestant religion is very favorable, because it boosts  individual rights and responsibilities, instead of the collective responsibilities and punishments of the traditional gods and so on. Nevertheless,  the African churches do retain some of the  old African principles such as spiritual healing,  posession (by the Holy Ghost) exorcism (of witchcraft) and dancing as a form of prayer

B.E.: So even though so many of these churches have become “Africanized” in various ways, you see an underlying problem with the whole ideology of individualism?

J.C. (2013):  It’s worse for the Africans. Because when they develop their systems, they have to compete with advanced capitalist systems, and when they create geniuses, they flow out of the countries in  a ‘brain drain’. Like all the doctors who are in striking in Ghana now. Out of let’s say 2000 doctors who have been trained at Ghanaian universities over the last 30 years, there’s only about 600 and Ghana. My figures maybe a little out of date, but it’s something like that. How could Isaac Newton and James Watson and all the mentors of the Industrial Revolution have created their inventions if they were being sucked out of their countries  by  a superpower?

So in fact, it’s impossible for Africa to develop independently, unless they come together like China or India. I mean the great miracle of the modern world is China and India in that they have survived colonialism without  becoming balkanized. They weren’t divided up into little estates like as has happened  Africa or Latin America. And it’s because of that there there’s the world’s center of gravity is shifting in the world to these powers. Whether they make a better job of that than the West, I don’t know. But if you look at China or India, they have both put two things together which the West was prepared to destroy the planet over. That was capitalism and communism which westerners considered diametrically opposed and so  were ever ready to destroy the world in a Cold War. But with India and China you have communist areas and capitalist areas operating side-by side in the same country  They’ve done what was impossible for the Western powers.

This is why there’s still some hope for us. And I would advise any African country to tie their laces to the Chinese and Indians, not to the West. Because the West is actually counter-developing Africa, not just because they are extracting raw materials but because they’re sucking up many of Africa’s  intelligent and successful; people, Also the West has divided  Africa into fifty small countries. None of them, except maybe Nigeria and South Africa  are big enough to sustain an independent economy. So I think the problem is trying to create a modern technological society when you’ve got advanced technologies that want to keep you at the level of producing raw materials, stealing your brains and interfering in your political systems . That’s really the problem.

Luckily, there is China and India — I mean, what a miracle. And we owe this to two of the  greatest men in the world  Ghandi and Mao Tse Tung– they both made sure their countries  survived  colonialism intact –  and have gone on to become continental powers. This is why the Chinese colonialism is different from the American British or French one. The Chinese don’t interfere with the politics of the country that they are investing in, whether it’s a dictatorship or democracy. That’s not their business. But America and Europe want to invade countries and overthrow  governments, like Ghana and the Congo in the sixties,  or   Somalia, northern Mali and  Libya today. All this does is unleash a destabilization process in Africa.

B.E.: Coming back to music in Ghana, I get the feeling that, overall, you are feeling more positive about what is going on than you were twenty years ago.

J.C. (2013): Yes then people like me Koo Nimo, E.T.Mensah,  King Bruce and Kwaa Mensah were so worried that  that youth were not interested in highlife that we set up the BAPMAF archives to preserve this music. But things are now changing and many young musicians and media people are becoming interested in both highlife and folkoric music.  If you want to know, there were two people—and you can tell them this if you see them—of the modern generation who made me  realize I was not on my own. I won’t say that I saw them as sons exactly, but I knew that something good was going to come in Ghana. The two people were Paa K..  Holbrook-Smith and Panji Anoff.  In the early 1990’s. I saw nothing on the horizon except more miming and machine music. And then, Paa K put the first specialist highlife program on Groove FM, and later he  collaborated with BAPMAF in various highlife festivals . He really knows his onions about the history of highlife  and in the early 1990s it was just a joy to be able to sit down and listen to a Ghanaian DJ talking in depth about highlife. I thought, “What a relief!”

And then there is Panji Anoff, the same sort of thing, He did an in-depth study of why live music is more important than machine music. He did quite serious research on this using oscilloscopes  and visiting analogue  recording studios in Jamaica. He proved that you cannot actually do away with  live music and he also helped the hiplife generation re-connect with highlife and folkloric music. I also  did highlife projects with Panji

And then there were other positive developments  like the interest of the French and German Embassy cultural organisations in highlife and live music and the  upsurge of Ghanaian festivals that project highlife, such as  Music of African Origin. Here’s another extraordinary story, in connection with  radio stations. When you came to the country in 1993 , we thought that the GBC—the Ghanaian Broadcasting Corporation—had no record collection. Because at that time even a German researcher called Dr. Wolfgang Bender had brought some  German government music preservation money and discovered  that there was none to be  preserved. Working with this  German and using this same money, we digitizeds six-hundred hours of field recordings made by  Professor Nketia and others  of the Institute of African Studies at the University of Ghana ‘. That’s why we did it, because there was no GBC archives. We have now discovered that,  in fact, they had a secret stash of 20,000 records in a room that had been locked and sealed. Nobody had been able to get to it until a German called Marcus Coester , about two years ago, managed to get into the place.  He brought more German money (via Dr. Bender) , and set up a place where they can digitize the radio records and tapes, catalogue  them , and air some of the music  on   programs,every Saturday. So this is a huge resource, which we didn’t even know about. They were sitting on it, and we thought it had disappeared into smoke. So this is another very positive thing..

And also, we should never forget Charles Wereko-Brobbey who set up the very  first private radio station in Ghana. This was just like Radio Caroline. You know the story about Radio Caroline in Britain? It was illegal in the sixties to have a private radio station, so the station was put on a boat near the British coast . And of course, the British government  stormed this pirate radio  boat and. But in the end, the government  had to change the law and allow private radio stations . Well, we have a Ghanaian who did the same thing. Wereko-Brobbey.  He set up a Radio Eye , an illegal private radio station. And of course, he was arrested, and it was closed down. But after that, the Ghanaian government  was  forced to open up the airwaves. Now we have around 240 radio and TV stations in Ghana. He’s a very contentious character, but he really did something wonderful for Ghana.

B.E.:Amazing.  What year was that?

J.C. (2013): That would have been about 1993 or ‘94?. And then the government had to de-regulate the airwaves. In short, Borbbey was willing to take on the government an as a result  opened up the airwaves . He’s an interesting man, because he’s also the only person here who has ever published books on highlife.  My  two books on highlife published in Ghana  were published by him and his Anansesem Press in 1996. These were “Highlife Time”  and “E.T. Mensah the King of Highlife.”

 Originally published @afropop.org

Aug 12, 2015

Africa 45's 1 & 2 - Mr Bongo tells his digging stories

Originally published @ mrbongo.com!


In this post David 'Mr Bongo' reveals how he first came across these tracks and explains why they were chosen to launch the series. 


Amazones de Guinee - Samba (AFR45.01)

To start the series I wanted to launch with a heavy hitter. 'Amazones de Guinee - Samba’ is a high energy African funk with a powerful vocal, recorded live in Paris in 1983. Hailing from Guinea they were the countries first all female group, formed by members of Guinean army nonetheless. Their lead percussionist Kade Diallo was killed in a car crash just days after returning from a tour of France in the early 80’s. The group did not record again until 2008, but they continue to tour now, with a new generation of fans.

I used to go digging in Paris back in the early 90’s, hunting for cassettes and vinyl. It was in a small shop called Crocodisc that I came across the album - ‘Au Coeur De Paris’. This live album from 1983 is something something a little special. I knew that Gilles Peterson used to play the track ‘Samba’, but other than him I hadn’t heard anyone else playing it. I think that as it was a live recording this caused people to shy away from it, but it still absolutely works. 

I wanted it to be the first track on the series as I wanted it to be a statement about what the series is all about, and to give people an indication of what they can expect from our Africa 45’s. ‘Samba’ is certainly a DJ cut, but not necessarily an obscurity. Africa 45’s will of course feature some seriously rare tracks, but that isn’t the requirement for release. When it comes to reissues, its not always about super rare, there are some records (such as ’Samba’) that are findable, but still undiscovered by many. 


Malia born Moussa Doumbia was a prolific saxophonist, composer and arranger, who lived in Abidjan, Ivory Coast. He fused African and Funk rhythms in his own unique style, comparable to the likes of Fela Kuti, Orchestre Poly Rythmo de Cotonou and Ebo Taylor. Moussa’s voice is strongly reminiscent of the almighty James Brown

Similarly to Fela and The Shrine, Moussa played at ‘Boule Noire’, a club in the cosmopolitan area of his town, Treichville. Every night they would play their own styles for hours to rich businessmen and locals. ‘Samba’ is taken from his 1980 LP ‘Lassissi Presente Moussa Doumbia’ released on the legendary Sacodis label. Sacodisc were a groundbreaking label experimenting in Afro-Latin crossovers, and run by the great Lassissi (from the Ivory Coast). We used to sell a lot of Sacodis records at the Mr Bongo Latin shop back in the days. These were mainly Salsa cross-over albums, such as Monguito, and Labi Sosseh, but I spotted the Moussa Doumbia album in a flea-market in Paris and bought it blind. I knew the label was very consistent so thought it was worth a punt. I like to think I was right on this one. 

‘Samba' is a funky dance floor cut, and that is something we want to deliver on each release. This track is extremely hard to find, so I think there will be a fair few delighted DJs getting themselves a copy.



The second track from Moussa in as many records, and deservedly so. Keleya is a organ lead, afro-funk bomb with Moussa in full James Brown effect. Taken from the LP of the same title, originally released in 1977 on Pathe, and on 7” by Ivory Coast label SID in 1974. Suffice to say, they are expensive and rare.

I have been trying to license the Sacodis records catalogue for the past 15 years and have never really got anywhere. This year a friend of ours at Orika Records opened up doors for us and we were able to make it happen for this series. The 45’ version of this track is different to the album cut and is therefore one we know fellow diggers are on the look out for. You may have also heard it recently when Four Tet dropped it in a Rinse FM set that got the collectors hot under the collar.


Amadou Balake has made a lot of good records and is mainly known for his Afro-Charanga cross-over. I first found out about Amadou through a great cut he did called ‘Whiskey Soda’. I put this track on the series as its so damn funky and it needs to be owned by as many people as possible. Razor sharp, percussion heavy, guitar lead afro-latin funk - total killer.

It was taken from the LP of the same name, released by the Sacodisc label again. Balake travelled to the USA in the 1970’s to record with salsa musicians - recording and releasing albums with the likes of Monguito, Labi Sosseh, the great Amadou and Sweet Talks from Ghana.

Dec 28, 2014

Brian Shimkovitz ... Indiana Jones of African cassettes

http://www.icrates.org/wp-content/uploads/2012/04/african-tapes2.jpg

Originally published @


Brian Shimkovitz is the Indiana Jones of African cassettes. He may not own a lasso or have a deep knowledge of ancient civilizations, but he would look dangerously handsome in a Harrison Ford fedora; poring over sub-Saharan TDKs with a magnifying glass. Brian spends his life writing about life-changing songs on his awesome Awesome Tapes From Africa blog; which you should visit.
Shimkovitz devotes his time to excavating Africa's diverse musical territories. All in the name of precious artefacts: fresh to death tapes. So I caught up with him to talk all things music from the motherland.

Noisey: Hello pal, how did all this get started?
Brian: I went to Ghana for the first time in 2002 and found out very quickly that the best music to be found was on tape. I was always kind of a tape guy anyway so it was no big deal. Tapes cost about $1 so I bought a shitload and sent back several shoeboxes full.
 
What drew you to Africa in the first place?
I got really into studying the ins-and-outs of hiplife, the local form of rap music in Ghana. So I kept looking for more music and then did some travelling. I collected numerous tapes for the never-ending variety and bizarre finds. I like different kinds of music from around Africa--traditional, pop, electronic music--and I just ended up finding more and more things that were worth a closer listen. I am a bit OCD about this. I now have around 4,000 tapes in my tiny apartment in Alphabet City.
 
What did you have in mind when you decided to start the blog?
I simply wanted to share this music I figured no one outside of West Africa would have the chance to hear. After living in Ghana for a year, I came back with this impression that you hear music constantly--on the radio, in public transport, blasting out of barber shops, in the market--so it felt like a cool thing to show people what Africa sounds like.

Did you expect it to do this well?
I noticed the traffic was coming from a variety of sources outside the typical dude with Birkenstocks and tie-dye world music zone. So it feels like a big success, the positive feedback makes me even more into continuing to share my tapes.
 
How do you keep track of all your cassettes?
I don’t have an organizational system yet, it’s just a series of boxes. If I want to find something, I better have time to look for it!
 
One of the things that always struck me about the tapes was the artwork. What makes them so cool?
Raw collage and daring colour are what stick out to me in African cassette art. I like how the majority are portraits of the artist, sometimes in surprising poses or contexts. Always looking sharp. These cover designs are full of motion and often look like something from the distant past (even when it’s a Tanzanian bongo flava tape from 2003).

Are there any regions you prefer, with regards to where the music comes from?  
I am really into music from the Sahel, the arid region at the edge of the Sahara desert in places like Niger, Mali and Mauritania. The music is often spare and soulful with distinctive vocals.
 
How do you even pick the songs you blog about?
I like to post tracks that are super bizarre to my ears or very popular in the region they’re from or both. I try to mix up old and new, acoustic and electronic, from as many regions as I can.
 
Do you have a team of super sleuths scouting for rare tapes, I mean, how do you get all this shit?
Ever since I started doing this blog, my friends and random people from the internet have been kind contributors. I see it as a public project of sorts, so it’s amazing how many people have thought of me while they were travelling and brought some jams back for me to share.
 
What stuff has excited you the most?
I have been getting excited about 90s house music from South Africa and I have always been drawn to rap from Senegal and Tanzania. Lately, I've been getting into Nigerian fuji music and various guitar band sounds from 70s Kenya. 

What's the African music industry like right now?
I think there are challenges that prevent the same kind of DIY approach of helping underground artists bubble up to the mainstream as efficiently as we have seen in the West. People have to pay to get their songs played on the radio. While it’s become easier to self-produce a record, it’s even more competitive to get the music heard outside one’s neighbourhood. Touring is almost impossible because of cost and logistics; and piracy is still making it hard for artists to see money from recordings.

Is cassette culture is still thriving over there? Cause you know, the internet killed everything cool over here.  
I think the cassette appears to be in a solid place. The durability of cassettes will keep them in use for some time to come in a context where dust, heat, humidity and rugged repeated use are facts of life.
 
 
On the flipside, with blogs like yours, what kind of impact has the internet had in getting people all over the world aware of African music?
The internet is like a record shop with infinite aisles of free music you’ve never laid ears on. But you have to have direction otherwise you might not come across the more obscure sounds, the internet lets you discover things you might be too shy or too located in Nebraska to have ever heard.
 
Finally, if you could make your very own awesome tape for Africa, what songs would be on it?
The theme song from Twin Peaks.
 
Fair enough!



Jan 13, 2014

Vinyl Anthropology!






Flying to West Africa, northern Latin America, and the Caribbean looking for rare records to create re-issue albums with great aesthetics and brief histories of your favorite periods in musical history is a pretty sweet job. That's what Miles Cleret does to earn his crust with his Soundway record label. In his travels Miles has documented whole cultures on the brink of extinction, as well as entire histories of musical experimentation, one-hit wonders, and sky high egomania.

Miles insists on clarifying, however, how dull 95% of his job is, but we can be sure that the other 5% is probably a bunch more fun than you have 100% of the time at your job.

Vice: How did you turn something that a lot of people consider an obsessive but recreational hobby into flying all over the world pretending it’s a job?

Miles Cleret: I grew up in a house full of records. My dad was a big record collector and I remember how magical it was discovering new recordings and holding them in your hands. The essence of this whole crate-digging—call it what you like—the inspiration comes from looking for music to present to people who don’t know it, and I suppose the label and everything that happens with it is just an extension of that.

So what made you go from there to reissuing such specific eras?

Recordings from the periods that we tend to reissue are in real danger of dying out from being neglected and overlooked. There is a tendency for people to think that something made in the 70s will never be endangered, but that's not always the case. Some of those records were pressed in really tiny numbers, sometimes only two, three, four hundred copies, and 95% of them lie smashed in pieces on the ground or scratched to high hell, or were never sold and melted down to make the next record. So, there’s a real chance these records will never be heard again unless somebody puts them out or focuses on them. It’s a kind of audio conservation I suppose.

Is it working?

Well, 15 years ago some records were absolutely impossible to find. They were just these weird little things that might turn up in tiny second hand record stores in New York, London, or Paris. Now they are easier to get a hold of, and the more people that get into them the bigger the market becomes for those kind of records. Record dealers respond to that. The more compilations that people like myself do, the more people who are solely in it for financial reasons see an opportunity to sell records.

So basically you just wanted to find and release stuff that people didn’t already have.

For sure.

You've taken crate-digging to its logical conclusion. Some people must be green that you get to do that all day.

I guess so, but there’s always a tendency to romanticize it. Hunting for records is actually a pretty dull thing. You get taken into some pretty odd areas, and some places are pretty risky, but to be perfectly honest 95% of it is extraordinarily frustrating. You spend hours hot and bothered, going through the process covered in sweat and dust, day after day, often with very little reward and lots of mosquito bites. But the other 5% of it is really fun and makes it all worthwhile.

What constitutes that 5%?

Just finding great records. I think it’s inevitable that there will be a new generation of people who don’t give two shits about the actual record and the sleeve. They just want the music. But for me, that’s what it’s all about.

Despite the fact that many of the scenes and genres you have documented are all over the world, many of them seem to have occurred at around the same time.

Well, we are doing one from Colombia, which is 70% 80s, but it’s no secret from looking at the records I’ve put out that the music I’m into is generally from 1955 to 1980. It was a very prolific time--it was before music became disposable and easily digitised, but after it was very much controlled by a small select few. From ‘55 to ‘80 lots of small runs of obscure records in different styles came out and people really got a chance to experiment before the music industry, digital technology, piracy, and cassette tapes came in and killed it off. If I were to go to outer Mongolia looking for 60s and 70s records I wouldn’t have much luck.

Going to the countries themselves makes you understand the way the music moves, intertwines, and goes back and forth. West Africa, the Caribbean, northern Latin America--all the big musical movements of the 20th century developed in an intertwined manner. So Latin music has its roots in African music, but that music went back to Africa in the 40s, 50s, and 60s and, in turn, influenced African music, and then went all the way back again. Similarly, Colombian music in the 80s was influenced by sailors from Nigeria and Ghana bringing records back to Colombia so that they could be played on Colombian sound systems. Jamaicans did the same with American R&B records, and scratched the labels off of them to see if people could tell the difference. That influenced ska, which in the 70s massively influenced music in England. So it just goes back and forth.

How does sourcing obscure records vary from country to country?

In Latin America old music is very much alive. In Colombia they have much more of a culture of sourcing old music. But in Ghana or Nigeria, a lot of people have sort of wholesaled, cancelled, or dismissed old music. It stops with the people who were around at the time. If you meet them, sometimes they’ve got stories, but quite often they’ve forgotten them or they get the stories wrong, or they're just gone. The truth exists in the record.

But records that no one wants anymore.

Not in Nigeria. In Colombia you will find young guys in their 20s who are just as into finding old records as I am. There is a ravenous DJ culture in Colombia, especially for old African music. So when word got out that I had a bag of African records I was willing to trade for Colombian records, I was mobbed. My phone didn’t stop ringing, people turned up to my hotel and followed me around when I was out.

Are there actually that many stores, or even crates to look through in places like Bogota?

There are virtually none in Africa anymore, but there are still a few in Colombia. There are some people who sell records from their garages, and there's still one or two collectors who sell off stuff that they don’t want anymore. There are guys on the street who have these little stores just set up on the pavement. I tend to just turn up in a place and start asking around though. One thing tends to lead to another.

When you're on the hunt, do you prefer finding the artist or the record?

The record. Records don’t always phone you asking for money. Some artists are great, but some are a pain in the ass and have a much bigger sense of their worth than is realistic. People somehow can’t quite believe that you are only selling X amount of records. They just assume that their music must be selling hundreds of thousands of copies and you owe them money.

Sir Victor Uwaifo: Guitar Boy Superstar checks pretty much all the boxes as far as album titles go. Which category did he fall into?

He is one of the small few that fall into the category of being everything I hoped he would be and more. He’s a national hero--he’s regarded as a real keeper of Benin culture, a true ambassador for highlife music, and has managed to be a superstar at the same time.

Was he still a superstar when you met him?

Well, he picked me up from the airport and drove me to his house. He lives in a house called Superstar Highgate on 1 Victor Uwaifo Avenue.

Sounds pretty starry.

The first room you go into is the Victor Uwaifo Hall of Fame. So you have this big room covered in pictures, bits of memorabilia, newspaper clippings, records, and guitars--even the bicycle he used to ride to school--all in this room in his own house. You go from there to the Nigerian History Room, which is a tour through the history of Nigeria and its leaders over the years. That’s followed by the Chamber of Horrors.

What, like a carnival ride?

No, we sat down and watched notorious armed robbers being shot by a firing squad. Then he took me into his concrete airplane he had built onto the side of his house. It was exactly like being in a real airplane--there were windows all down the sides. But in the cockpit there was a piano. He just sat in the cockpit and played for me as we sat and drank beer. It wasn’t your ordinary day.

Surely a lot of the records you find are in unsalvageable condition.

Sadly, yes. They are often not just broken, but the recording is so terrible that it’s unusable. With technology being what it is today, you can actually take out the noise and scratches, but you can’t add anything that wasn’t there. Your hopes rest with the record.

So if it’s broke, you can’t fix it.

Yeah, you can try and pull out what's there as much as possible, but if it’s not there you’re stumped. There are records that I’ve been desperate to find clean copies of for years that I just haven't found.

Such as?

There’s a 45 by The High Grades called Jumping Cat that I’ve been looking for for about ten years now. I’ve got a copy but it’s far too mashed to do anything with.

Is that your Holy Grail?

One of them.

vice.com

Jan 10, 2014

Cassette Culture: An Interview

preview pic1 Cassette Culture: An Interview with Awesome Tapes from Africas Brian Shimkovitz | iCrates Magazine

An Interview with Awesome Tapes from Africa’s Brian Shimkovitz

It has been an exciting year for ethnomusicologist/blogger/label owner Brian Shimkovitz. His blog Awesome Tapes from Africa has spread like wildfire among music enthusiasts intoxicated by the heady mix of cassette music from across the continent, salvaged from obscurity and presented as full-length streamable albums. Off the back of the blog’s success, which he is proud to say has become more of a ‘public project’, Brian has started a label, reissuing whole albums (rather than compilations) on vinyl, the first of which La Grande Cantatrice Malienne Vol. 3 by Malian singer Nâ Hawa Doumbia came out in late 2011 to widespread critical acclaim. With a second release, Bola – Vol. 7, hitting the shelves as we speak, we caught up with Brian to get deep into what lies behind this incredible project.

How did you first get into the whole scene?

When I went to college I had the chance to study abroad. I was interested in African music and rhythm and jazz and I knew a little bit about Ghana and I saw that there was a chance to do an arts and culture project there, so I spent 4 or 5 months there the first time in 2002. It was studying hip-life and youth culture and the way that globalization and technology have made it possible for this new movement to happen and how the youth are doing to it to make jobs and to do their thing and to express themselves. I went back second time in 2004/5 and I stayed for a year and just did tons of interviews with rappers, DJ’s and record producers. I collected tons of tapes and asked a lot of questions and went to a lot of different places around Ghana and I also had the chance to also travel to Mali and Togo and Burkina Faso.

Where would you get the tapes from?

It’s a combination. In Accra, the capital of Ghana you have everything from a wooden kiosk on the corner of a street lined with tapes, or massive markets. Or you just have a guy with a bicycle with a wooden thing attached to the back and he’s got 30 or 40 tapes. Sometimes people would give me stuff, or you’d be on a trip in a public bus and a guy would be playing music he’d show you where you could go to find these kinds of things.

Were people interested in what you were doing?
Well it’s weird, because I wasn’t doing this Awesome Tapes From Africa thing – I didn’t start doing that until after I moved to Brooklyn. What I was doing was learning how to speak Twi, the main lingua-franca there, and I was learning about Ghanaian music and so if you’re a foreigner and you’re really interested in the Ghanaian music then most of the people were just really excited that you were interested, so they wanted to share things with you.

Why do you think tape culture has persisted so much? Is it an economic question?

It was at first. It was also a means to an end, of sort of just getting the music out there. Initially tapes are really helpful in piracy, which is not a good thing, but also piracy also helps the music spread further because not everyone was buying tapes. When CD’s and mp3’s came into play they still just weren’t as accessible and the prices were kinda high.

The tapes also persisted because of the environment. You have a lot of second hand buses and cars that still have tape decks and tapes seem to last a while in that environment so long as you keep them a little bit out of the sun. A CD can get scratched up with all the dust and all the passing around, because things get shared a lot within the household or within the neighborhood.

I know that everyone is trading music with their bluetooth links and stuff like that even out in the Sahara Dessert these days but I also know that cassettes are still being made for almost every release that comes out.

How many tapes do you own?

I own more than 4000 tapes. I have a storage space in Brooklyn. I was living in Manhattan for a few months and my apartment had boxes and boxes almost to the ceiling on one side.

And this is older stuff as well as new releases?

It’s everything. I wanted to find old stuff because I initially came to Ghana interested in highlife music, but then I found out on the very first day I arrived there in 2002 that highlife was almost dead, in the form that we know it as with acoustic instruments and what not. So everything, the brand new stuff and also certain reissues where you can sometimes hear the crackle of the record and someones just set the tape record next to the record player.

How do you recognize something potentially interesting?

Coming from Chicago, I was already familiar with the concept of digging [vinyl] like that and going to all the record fairs. If I came to a town that I hadn’t been to before I would ask around my friends or I would go into a shop and I would just ask. And then also there was a lot of that thing that people do when they digging in foreign countries and you just see a crazy cover and you say “I have to see this”. It’s the same thing with record collecting though; sometimes the most amazing cover is a tape that’s not so interesting.

Where do you get your new tapes from now?

These days I get them from neighborhoods in Paris, places in New York where they have them, and I’ve been really lucky because people email me a lot and say “hey I got some tapes, I’ll send them to you”. I think it’s all part of the sort of public project the blog has become.

In what way has it become a public project? 

You’ve probably seen on the blog – and this is the thing that I’m almost the most proud of in terms of the blog itself – is that when I post something that I know nothing about after several comments there is this whole crowd source story of information and links and this is what the internet is all about.

Do you also use the internet to archive the tapes?

I’m not archiving stuff apart from just what you see on the blog. The longer term plan is to make some sort of archive – maybe partner with a museum or some kind of institute, but copyright is an issue and I am giving away peoples music for free, which is a complex thing. So what I feel at the very least is that what you see on the blog is being “saved” in a certain way.

I don’t wanna say, “I’m this foreign guy who is adding value to this music by saving it.” The reality is that a lot of these recordings, especially the ones that people have given me that they’ve bought in the 80’s or the early 90’s, you can’t really find them anymore in that place, some of them are quite rare there. I feel like it’s a good idea to digitize them and put them online.

Are you in contact with the artists you showcase on the blog?

I’m not in contact with the artists. Most of the people whose music is on my blog don’t even know that it is there, for a variety of reasons. Be it shortage of bandwidth or maybe they are not even alive any more or maybe when they go to the internet cafe like most of my friends in Ghana, they’re not looking for African music, they are going on Facebook and they looking at stuff from other places, because the web is a portal for these folks who live in remote areas to really be connected with stuff.

The negative thing that has come up over the years is that people sometimes either explicitly or implicitly express that they want Africans to stay in their little box and make the music the way that they have always made it and [for us not to] “don’t pollute what’s going on there” and that just seems lame.

Having studied ethnomusicology, where do you stand in relation to the debate about cultural colonialism? Even though Awesome Tapes presents the music in a very pluralistic and unpretentious way, how do you avoid this accusation? 

Historically, a lot of white people have gone down to Africa and done sketchy things with the music. A lot of African musicians who I have spoken with have felt that in the past they’ve been exploited. In the digital age with blogs the way they are, every band wants to get big and to get big they send music up promotionally through the mp3 blogs. I feel that if the playing field has been leveled technologically and globally – it’s still not level, but it’s getting closer – then the amount of promotion that an artist can get through being featured on the blog which reaches more than 30,000 unique visitors every month can outweigh a lot of the other complexities that come into play.

But I do realize that it is a bit of a catch-22. As an ethnomusicologist you feel like you are taking, because people spend a lot of time and share a lot of stuff with you and at the very least, I wanted to find a way to give back, to show people what Africa can really be like, filled with talent not just war and famine and trouble.

In parts of Ghana different communities are distinguished by their drum rhythms. I was wondering whether there are political tensions between these groups and whether this is reflected in the music?

It’s really hard to generalize even within a specific genre. For example hip-life; some of it can get a little bit political, or it makes oblique references to stuff that’s happening in parliament or amongst the people in society. But a whole bunch of it is just about love and relationships and growing up and being cool, the way that a lot of American hip hop can be.

In other types of popular music, highlife has often been very political but in a really artful way using proverbs. There is a lot of internal tension all over the continent from what I can gather which has a lot to do with the way that colonialism divided up the nations into these bits where communities that have different languages and different customs are forced to be part of the same nation-state.

With this split in languages and customs in mind, and aware that talking even about West Africa is to generalize hugely, what are the repercussions of calling the blog Awesome Tapes From “Africa”?

I know I feel really lame about that, because I don’t even like to say the words “in Africa this or that”. I’m really glad you mention that because I think it’s really important to be sensitive to the fact that Africa is not this monolithic thing, and even Ghana I have a difficult time speaking about because there are 100 language groups in that one relatively small country. And dudes in Mali aren’t listening to records from South Africa in large part.

There are certain musical genres in Africa that have currency across several nations, especially amongst the Francophone countries, for example like Soukous music. There’s very few artists in Africa that are famous or well known or listened to in each country. But it’s not because there is tension I think it’s just to do with language and distribution systems.

The influence of the internet probably also means that musical influence goes both ways – that we are interested in music coming from Ghana, but that Ghanaian’s are both interested and heavily influenced by music coming from America or the UK – especially with regards to hip hop for example.

Yeh, that’s a really important thing to point out. What happened really in the early 90’s in Ghana was that they privatized the airwaves which allowed less restrictions on what percentage of foreign music could be played. So ever since then every young guy in Ghana loves Tupac and loves Biggie. Hip hop there is ubiquitous.

Why do you think there has been such a boom in compilations [Shangaan, Ethiopiques, Soundway Records, Sublime Frequencies, Strut Records] from specific African regions over the last few years?

Mainly it’s that we as listeners have opened our ears, we as listeners want to keep finding new stuff, we as listeners are constantly looking for inspiration, we as listeners can just go on Google and find a lot of other stuff. So it just makes sense that intrepid diggers would make their way into corners of the world to try and find micro-movements and subcultures. This proliferation of compilations is only going to continue.
The thing that is a little bit annoying to me sometimes is that a lot of the compilations just take one or two really crazy tracks from a record that don’t really sound like what the rest of the artist was actually doing. They put those in a compilation and then it creates this image, when maybe it wasn’t really quite like that. My approach is to show what the music would sound like if you were in this particular place at that particular time.

And that is pretty much the idea behind the label isn’t it, putting out full albums rather than compilations?

Absolutely, that’s a huge part of what I do, from almost the very beginning on the blog. I don’t want to select, I don’t want to decontextualize or disembody these statements.


But you are in contact with the artists whose records you are bringing out?

Yes. My ideological, lofty goal is to hopefully take inspiration from the great labels like World Circuit from London who work together closely with the artists and do everything legitimately. I’m licensing recordings, so this is an economic boost in a small way for an artist who has already spent the money on the record that they made. “Here’s some more money upfront to show that I’m serious and you’re going to get this distributed worldwide in an efficient way and any money that I make back, you’re going to get 50% of after the costs are fulfilled”.

What’s the reaction been to the first release by Nâ Hawa Doumbia?

The reaction has been very very positive. I fell in love with this record immediately. Here’s a really great artist who is super accomplished, she’s been around for several decades and this is a really great snapshot of what she was doing pretty early in her career and the production sounds really rich and organic and beautiful.
It’s out on vinyl, it’s out on limited edition tape and it’s on CD – the dying format. If you put out really great music, people are going to respond to it, and this an album that is just absolutely amazing and so it’s gotten the attention it’s deserved.

You also DJ with tapes. How does that work out for you?

It’s been really fun, it keeps me busy on stage and it works out fine for the most part. Every once in a while a tape gets a little funky in the middle and starts to fuck up but I don’t plan the stuff in advance. I typically go with whatever the vibe is and what I feel like playing. You know there is a bit of beat matching, more and more because I know the tapes better and better.

Do you have a box of pencils at the ready to wind them back up in emergencies?

No, you see there’s a misconception that the tapes get chewed up a lot, it’s not even that, I think it just gets worn out play after play. But I feel like life is too short. I can’t go around Europe playing copies of tapes. The tapes themselves sound shitty enough. If I made copies of them it would sound pretty bad.
How many tapes would you take on tour with you?

Around 75 or so, and then I always also have my laptop set up so I can play mp3’s of tapes, but I’ve always kept it limited to tapes because there is just too much music out there. You have to give a limitation somewhere.


icrates.org

Jan 2, 2014

Awesome Tapes … the hunt for Africa's lost treasure trove of music!

Butcher's shop in Tunisia

This Tunisian butcher's shop has a sideline in cassettes.
Photograph: Guenter Rossenbach/Corbis



It's been six years since Brian Shimkovitz last visited west Africa, and yet this bespectacled resident of New York has done more than most in recent times to uncover a seam of mind-boggling music from the continent – operating chiefly out of his bedroom. Shimkovitz is the driving force behind a blog called Awesome Tapes from Africa, a repository of cassette tapes from artists who remain almost wholly obscure in the west but are screaming out for greater attention. Visitors to the site are greeted with the scanned images of the cassette artwork and links to MP3s of all the music, as well as Shimkovitz's own pithy commentary.

One week it might be the squelchy Kenyan disco of Prince Khonjo, the black-and-white sleeve of whose album Binadamu Hatosheki shows a figure in feathered headdress (the prince himself?), who might have stepped out of one of east London's hipster hang-outs. "File under: bizarre/mind-blowing," Shimkovitz notes. "This simple dance of drum machine and determined vocals generates something particularly ill." Or it might be an eponymous release from a singer called Ouobraogo Charles, from Burkina Faso ("On a scale of dull to wild I'd give it a 'bananas++'"), or a cassette of hunters' music from Mali by Sékouba Traoré ("The tape swings harder and rawer than most").

It's easy to see why none of these recordings have previously surfaced outside their primary markets: for one thing, the production in most instances is incredibly raw, with none of the polish that bestselling world music albums enjoy. And before the web with its long tail came along, who could have known that there'd be an audience for such stuff, never mind a means of distributing it? One nice irony is, of course, that Shimkovitz needs the internet, but in one way his blog is a homage to a very analogue object.



"I've always been a tape guy," he says. "It's a more durable medium than the CD, and I prefer the quality of the sound, plus cassettes have their own aesthetic quality. The only advantage that a CD has is that you can skip the tracks, but I think we should all be more patient in our listening anyway."

The 30-year-old Shimkovitz grew up listening to the Grateful Dead ("on cassette") and was studying ethno-musicology at Indiana University when he was played some Fela Kuti and "it completely changed me". So much so that in 2002, he hightailed it to Ghana to research highlife music. The dominant sound on the streets of Accra and elsewhere was, however, hip-hop – not just the likes of Tupac and Biggie Smalls, but locally produced examples of the genre, the existence of which came as a complete surprise to the budding musical explorer. On a subsquent trip to the region in 2004-2005, he discovered an even greater mix of genres, often bizarre hybrid creations that saw indigenous styles trammelled through cheap electronic equipment or which seemingly bore the influence of the latest western sounds, even if the protagonist had arrived at that point after a parallel journey.

Returning to New York with piles of cassettes, he asked himself, "How can I do something with all this?", and as blogging was becoming increasingly popular – this was 2006 – he decided that he'd simply put it out on the internet. "And the positive response I received just overwhelmed me," he says. The first cassette that he posted on his blog as a series of MP3s was by a singer called Ata Kak, which he'd picked up on the street in Cape Coast in Ghana. "I knew nothing about this guy, and I still don't, really… but there was something about that tape that grabbed me, because it sounded almost like Chicago house music. It's still one of the cassettes that people ask me about most."

For some time, running the blog was just a hobby. By day, Shimkovitz worked as a music publicist in New York, working with acts on the World Circuit label such as Orchestra Baobab and Toumani Diabaté, and also with the likes of Peter Frampton and Pat Metheny. But gradually, he became consumed by the project, and now he devotes himself to it full-time, first by DJing around the world ("It can be problematic: people like the novelty, but not many clubs have a cassette deck in their back-line set-up"); now, in what might amount to an aesthetic volte-face, by releasing records the old-fashioned way, through a label of his own. This month, he is putting out on vinyl and CD and as a digital download – and inevitably as a limited edition cassette – a record by Malian singer Nâ Hawa Doumbia called La Grande Cantatrice Malienne Vol 3 made in Abidjan in Ivory Coast in 1982.

In this, Awesome Tapes is emulating other independent labels to have championed maverick sounds from around the world such as Sublime Frequencies, Analog Africa and Soundway. The latter's Miles Cleret, whose latest release is a batch of recordings of Afro rock and funk from "Nigeria's soul brother number one" Joni Haastrup, describes the challenge of rescuing such material from obscurity. "It can be a minefield," he says. "The contracts are lost, old squabbles start again, the labels have disappeared, the artists have disappeared… I've gone door-to-door in Ghana, trying to find who owns the rights to a particular record. But if you're doing something commercially" – as Shimkovitz is now – "you've got to try to do it legitimately."
One second irony that Cleret points out: forget the internet, it was the advent of the cassette in the 70s and early 80s that wiped out a lot of labels in Africa – making his detective work harder – because it made copying music so easy. "I imagine that a lot of the artists whose recordings have surfaced on Awesome Tapes from Africa never made a lot of money from them anyway – they've always been used to piracy. So the idea that someone somewhere else is bootlegging their material: it's not new to them. But they'll recognise the benefits of any exposure."

Sensitive to any suggestion that he has exploited artists through releasing their material without permission, Shimkovitz says: "When I travelled in Africa, I was struck that every artist, however big or small, wanted more than anything to know whether anyone had heard of them abroad. It's not, in the first instance, a question of getting paid – which is a good thing because I've not been able to pay the artists whose music I've posted online." There is, instead, a simple message on his site: "This is music you won't easily find anywhere else – except perhaps in its region of origin. But if you're an artist/etc and wish for me to remove your music, click above and email me."

"It's not a way we could ever work," says Nick Gold, boss of World Circuit and producer of classic albums by the likes of Ali Farka Touré. "We work closely with our artists and we can only release two or three records a year, whereas there's a mass of material on Awesome Tapes. But Brian is still really picky – there's some incredible music there. I love its complete immediacy."

It is with the release of La Grande Cantatrice Malienne that Shimkovitz is moving to a more professional footing: proceeds from the record will be split 50/50 with Nâ Hawa Doumbia. And while Shimkovitz says she was initially surprised that anyone should be interested in such an old record – Doumbia is not entirely unknown in the west, with several albums available on iTunes, even if she's never enjoyed the profile of her peer from the Wassoulou region of southern Mali, Oumou Sangaré – she has warmed to the project. (Unfortunately, Doumbia, who "lives a ways from Bamako and doesn't speak much French", was not available for comment on this article.)

One example of what might be achieved: no one had much heard of Syrian dabke singer Omar Souleyman outside the north-east of the country, and the bulk of his albums were recordings made at weddings and presented to the married couple before later being copied and sold at local kiosks; but then Sublime Frequencies chanced upon him, and the resultant compilation Highway to Hassake became a slow-burn success, so much so that Souleyman has played Bestival this summer and remixed Björk's last single.
Shimkovitz is warm in his praise for all these competing labels, and is friends with other ethno-musicologists engaged in similar pursuits, such as Christopher Kirkley, who runs the blog sahelsounds.com, an account of his exploration of music in the Sahel region of Mauritania, Senegal and Mali. (Last year, Kirkley posted on his blog a compilation of tunes that he'd collected from cellphones in that part of the world, where swapping music on Bluetooth is common.) "It's an increasingly crowded field," he says, "but the more the merrier."
One advantage is that Awesome Tapes is a crowd-sourced enterprise: some of the tapes he celebrates are ones he's found himself ("via an excellent grocery store on Flatbush Avenue" in Brooklyn, in the case of Introduction by Nigerian Abass Akande Obesere); others are sent to him by those who've met him or stumbled across the blog. For instance, one tape was given to Shimkovitz by someone called Malene whom he met in Copenhagen, the cheaply printed cover of which showed a man in outsized convict garb.

Shimkovitz couldn't read the accompanying script. What he did know was that this tape was, as he described it on the blog, "full of leftfield soulful insanity, the kind for which I live". If anything, he undersells the strangeness of the recording: it's bananas+++ music. "Doing this blog might never get old if I keep coming across gems like this," he continued, and posted the plea: "Please help me identify the tape."

On the blog, Malene came back to him to identify the artist as Kweysha Seta, adding: "When I showed the tape to my friends in Addis Ababa, they told me that he is still alive and he is begging in the streets. A friend of theirs has a copy shop in the area Piazza, which he visits regularly and they always buy him food and take care of him." Another correspondent, writing from Ethiopia, provided more information: "A quite sad, but funny story for many people down here is from when Kweysha Seta was offered a contract for this album. Being illiterate, it was said he was fooled into signing it, not understanding that he would only earn 500birr (about $100 in 1991, rough guessing) for it. It became a big hit, maybe even bigger than expected, and the cover was reprinted several times."

I suggest to Shimkovitz that this could be a contender for his next official release. Possibly, he says, but first he must go back to Africa in person. "This interest in this sort of music from around the world that at first sounds really wacky, it could just be a passing trend," he says. "But it's still what gets me excited." All the time? "Well, I have pretty catholic tastes," he admits. "I love Tchaikovsky and the Wu-Tang Clan. Sometimes I do just want to dance around my bedroom to Lady Gaga."


theguardian.com