Viva Africa

Viva Africa! Laba Sosseh truly is a great sonero and has piqued my interest in Senegalese and Gambian recordings of Cuban son and salsa. Never hurts to appreciate the Latin influence on so much African music, especially as it's important in the development of mbalax and other popular musical forms across the continent. 

Maquino Landera

Dave Chappelle once joked that Latinos love music with Spanish gibberish. This may be one of those examples of a hit from the 1950s. If I remember correctly, "Maquino Landera" would be considered a bomba, but regardless of its classification, it's fun. Enjoy this jam live from 1950s Puerto Rican television. Rest in peace, Ismael. 

Ismael Rivera and Benny More

My boys (Benny More and Ismael Rivera), the best soneros in the Caribe, together in this photo with Rafael Cortijo on the far left. Check out this special on los mejores soneros (a nice overview of the evolution of their music and why their improvisational skills and vocal talent made them the best). Rest in peace. The world needs more amazing Afro-Caribbean singers...

Haitian and Jamaican Jams for Saturday

Enjoy some Haitian and Jamaican music tonight! Ran into an old Jamaican man who reminded me that Haiti and Jamaica are 'siblings,' so let's listen to Les Diables du Rhythme and some Gregory Isaacs. Nothing better than some good reggae to complete the night well. Oh, and enjoy some songs by Les Corvington, a 1960s group that is quite good. I think the 1960s and 1970s might be my favorite period in Haitian kompa, with some stuff from the 1950s and 1980s being aight. If only I could track down some groups from the 1940s, such as outfits Bebo Valdes recorded with, then I would be set. 

In addition, check out a 1960s twoubadou Haitian song, which shows its debt to the Cuban son quite obviously. Catchy! 

Milonga and Tango

Been trying to get into more music from Argentina and Uruguay these days, especially since the history of tango and milonga is rooted in the Afro-Argentine and Afro-Uruguayan experience. I've devoured the music of Brazil and Colombia, why not expand my musical tastes to include tango, milonga, and candombe? My problem in the past with milonga and tango was how European the music was, European to the point of inducing boredom. But jams like the above 'milonga' is full of passion and at times quite moving. The tension of the piece and "Latin" rhythms reflecting African influences are quite moving. Indeed, it's quite similar to some Afro-Caribbean music, such as art music or classical composers, or rhythms like the habanera.

Africa Oye

Followers of this blog know I love me some Congolese rumba and soukous. The genre reflects Cuban and other Afro-Caribbean influences, combining the best of Cuban son, biguine, local African instruments and styles, and European vocal influences. And we all know how Congolese soukous has conquered the African continent musically. What I was quite ignorant of, however, was the influence of soukous on Cape Verdean coladeira and other genres. Such a beautiful song, Abel Lima and his group were wondrous musicians. The 'clean' and refined guitar, so essential for establishing the song, is reason enough to love soukous. "Africa, Africa, Africa, Africa oye!"

Sara Tavares

Been listening to Sara Tavares more in recent days. An Afro-French friend first recommended her to me, and I love her style, voice, and energy. As my friend told me, those in France are more exposed to what US audiences call "world music," so she heard the Cape Verdean Tavares on the radio in France. Check out "Bue" which is a little more jazzy.

A Haitian Version of "Bang Bang"

Came across a Haitian jazzy version of the boogaloo classic, "Bang Bang." Who would've thought Haitian musicians were listening to Puerto Rican and other Latino boogaloo from New York in the 1960s? I guess it was too good to pass over and not pay attention to. Joe Cuba would be proud, I imagine. 

Merengue For Christmas

Antonio Morel's old merengue, "Alevantate," is quite beautiful, simple, and old-fashioned. Indeed, in some ways it's quite similar to some Haitian music from the same time (1940s-1950s). Anyway, I really enjoy older Dominican merengue recordings. Check this one out!

How To Make Love To A Negro Without Getting Tired

Finally read this short but excellent (and hilarious) satire by Dany Laferrière. In some ways it was quite reminiscent of Salih's "Season of Migration To the North" in the explicit racial and sexual commentary on interracial relationships between white women and black women, the emphasis of the meta-textual story. Bouba and the narrator, two African immigrants (one from the Ivory Coast?) are working-class intellectuals living in Montreal who read the Koran, enjoy jazz (especially Bouba, the black Buddha who lives on his couch, reading Freud) consume literature (Miller, Bukowski, Hemingway, Baldwin, and a variety of other writers whose works I am not familiar with are alluded to), have sex with various types of white women (who serve as 'types' or models of various forms of white femininity) and white femininity's innate desire to rebel or undermine the moral order of Western civilization (where the black male/white female sex dynamic is part of the rupturing of white supremacy while also maintaining it through desire), and exposing the hypocritical liberal attitudes of Montreal, McGill, and Canada.

In that regard, Laferrière's satirical text, which at times seems to endorse embracing racial stereotypes of the black Other to make it with white women, leaves a more serious message about the prospects for racial equality for black immigrants in white-dominated countries, such as Canada. It ends on somewhat pessimistic terms, with the narrator completing his dream of finishing a novel about his life in a dream! But throughout all the satire and racial and gender commentary on life in the West, I see How To Make Love To A Negro as being a funny way of trying to address racial dynamics in society with a metaphor of white women and black men, given their unequal powers in societies and how deception and racial stereotypes prevent both black men and white women from seeing each other truly as individuals in their sexual relationships. Anyway, check out the short and fun novel for some laughs and some perspective on Black Montreal.

Alexandre Stellio

An enjoyable number that shows how biguine was played back in the 1930s. Very similar to jazz, too, particularly in the orchestra's instrumentation and improvisation. All these genres have similar origins, jazz, Haitian meringue, Cuban son, etc. 

Remy Mondey's "Meringue"

Listen to that saxophone! This is a hot number, influenced by Haitian early kompa and Dominican merengue. It's dark, uptempo, lively, and full of mirth. I'll have to check out more tumbele and other French Caribbean music besides Haiti! I haven't heard a track that moved me so much since "Bobine!" 

Samba for Sunday

Que samba é esse que acabo de chegar?

E Partido Alto mais e para quem sabe produzar

Beautiful old samba track I encountered via a black music blog (here). Africa lives in Brazil! 

Merengue President

Who would've thought that the president of merengue would be from the Congo, and not the Dominican Republic. From what I've found out online, Nico believed his electric guitar sounded like the accordion in older Dominican merengue records available in the Heart of Africa. And yes, it does kinda sound like Dominican merengue, even if Congolese music owes much more to Cuban son. 

Reagan's Welfare Queen Was Real (Kind Of)

Well, I am not surprised a 'welfare queen' actually did exist as a real person, though Reagan exaggerated her exploits, at least the ones involving 'stealing' from public funds. Linda Taylor knew how to cheat the system, but her pilfering the state was nowhere near as unethical or absurd as cuts to social services and other policies pursued by Reagan (let's not even talk about race or Reagan's foreign policy). The sad thing is how black women are demonized as a result because of the media and politicians when the real welfare queens are not hustlers going to great lengths to steal pennies in comparison to welfare for the elite and corporations in this country.

Ishmael Reed's Japanese By Spring

Finally read Reed's Japanese by Spring, a powerful example of satire matched only by Reed's own Reckless Eyeballing. Some of the themes are the same, too, such as a critique of feminism, racism, the media, and a comparison of the experiences of one ethnic minority with that of blacks (Jews and Blacks in Reckless, blacks and Japanese in Japanese By Spring). Indeed, the novel is also a fun read for self-insertion. Reed becomes a character in the novel commenting on the media, stereotypes, university politics, the importance of multiculturalism, and the global world we all live in.

Though the main character, Chappie Puttbutt, plays the role of a black lackey for whatever force will empower him on his self-interested path to tenure and moving to the Oakland Hills, he eventually becomes a 'man' and no longer slavishly serves for white or Japanese masters who take over Jack London College. In many ways the novel is an amusing parody of the 'yellow peril' fears common through Europe after Japan's industrialization and imperialism in Asia in the first half of the 20th century, renewed by Japanese economic power in the 1980s and 1990s. The novel is also quite successful for seamlessly fusing parody, satire, and a political tract in defense of multiculturalism, integration, anti-imperialism, while celebrating Japanese (and Yoruba!) culture, history, and civilization. What dragged the novel down at times was Reed's occasional tendency to veer into rants and present data as if the novel was one of his essays, but that was not common enough to change the format of the work. Indeed, sometimes the moments where one really learns from the book is the more academic and pedantic wandering of Reed's pen, such as moments where we learn that the Japanese wanted peace with the US in 1941, somethign already known to the US government via spying on telegrams between Japan and Soviet Russia, thereby proving that the US never had to use the atomic bomb.

What stuck with me the most was how similar the 'culture wars' and fight to defend affirmative action and multiculturalism was in the 1990s to the present, even in the world where commodification and cooptation of 'diversity' have seemingly won out over the white right's academic backlash. To paraphrase the former white supremacist professor Crabtree on the white academic backlash to multicultural pedagogy, white academics on the right became worse than the rednecks they thought themselves superior to by rejecting others. Folks like literary critic Harold Bloom could learn a lot from Japanese By Spring.

Jonathas Granville

Source

Jonathas Granville was one of the agents sent by Jean-Pierre Boyer to attract free African-American settlers to Haiti in the 1820s. It's interesting to see what the man looked like, although it does little to change my views of the Boyerist clique as disproportionately lighter-complected than the Haitian people, due to their interest in monopolizing political power. According to Wikipedia, the brother even married a cousin of Boyer, showing how interconnected all these Boyer elites were through blood, kin, and color (but the Wiki lacks proper citations).

I have blogged about the 1820s movement of 6,000-13,000 free blacks to Haiti here, but Pamphile offers some additional data on the 1820s emigration experiment that was an abysmal failure. According to him,  Boyer emphasized how similar Haiti was to free blacks from the US than an unknown and culturally different Africa (even though Haiti would prove to be very different culturally, socially, and linguistically for African Americans), Boyer funded the scheme (via Granville, Dewey, an American Presbyterian minister, and others) with coffee exports on the expectation that free blacks would labor as agricultural workers, and some interest and help from Philadelphia's black middle class and prominent people, such as Bishop Richard Allen. Granville spoke at gatherings for the emigration society, minimized differences between Haitians and African Americans, and left private writings that reveal a rather condescending view of the free people of color of the antebellum US ("“The colored people here are, whatever they say, in such a state of abjection that each time I am with them I feel that their degradation reflect on me.").

As Pamphile and other observers have noted, the emigration of the 1820s was doomed to fail in some key ways First, most of the free black emigrants were artisans and urbanites with no interest in agricultural labor like Boyer and the Haitian state desired. In addition, the cultural, religious, political, and social gap between African Americans and Haitians proved insurmountable to many, at least to one perspective in Port-au-Prince. Moreover, American recognition of Haiti never came, so Boyer ceased funding the migration in 1825! Intriguingly, Pamphile does suggest that blacks from the US who were mulattoes were more successful at integrating themselves into Haitian society, citing Benjamin Hunt to demonstrate how some of the US people of color were mulattoes who were accepted into the class and color structure of Boyer's Haiti. I suppose that last part ain't too surprising, but it certainly increases my interest in black immigrants in 19th century Haiti.

One of these days I'll have to blog about later emigration schemes or parallels in the Liberia/Sierra Leone cases and Haiti. I am certain there are other cases of black immigrants from other parts of the African diaspora to Haiti, such as Felix Darfour (from Darfur but educated in France), blacks from the French Caribbean (Papa Doc himself was of Martinican descent), or the case of slaves from the British Caribbean and "Dominicans."

A Thousand Years Ago in Mauritania

I've always been fascinated by Mauritania and the Sahel region of Africa more broadly. My interest in the Almoravids and Sahel-Saharan relations began with my studies of Wagadu/Ancient Ghana, particularly in how foreign academics have tried to label conflicts as rooted in 'racial' differences instead of interrogating local concepts of ethnic difference, religion, and land. One of these days I'll write an overly long post on relationships between Saharan societies (such as Sanhaja Berber groups or Massufa, for instance) and those of ethnic groups in the Sahel and savannas of West Africa (Soninke, Mande, Fula, and many others). This lecture is a little too focused on Islam and religion for my taste, but certainly worth a listen. 

Sans Souci

Source

Though the author's description of Henri Christophe lacks nuance (and contains factual errors), it certainly contains some fascinating pictures from different angles of Sans Souci, the finest palace of Henri Christophe (I have blogged about the Citadel here, too). 

Trouillot claims the name may have come from an African slave leader during the Haitian Revolution who was killed under orders of Christophe, but regardless of the exact origins of the name and inspiration for the palace, it's certainly an example of what de Vastey called our memory of African architectural genius when we covered Egypt, Ethiopia, Carthage, and Old Spain with impressive ruins. Check out the rest of the pictures in the article! 

Jasper Country Man

Humphrey brings the funk on this classic, though it's not as good as "Harlem River Drive." Who thought jazz flute would go well with funk made a good decision, even if it does sound the same after a while. Some deep grooves on this one.

Aizawa Seishisai's Shinron

While reading Ishmael Reed's Japanese By Spring, I couldn't help but enjoy the quotation of Seishisai's Shinron:

"Today, the alien barbarians of the West, the lowly organs of the legs and feets of the world, are dashing about across the seas, trampling other countries underfoot, and daring, with their squinting eyes and limping feet, to override the noble nations. What manner of arrogance is this!"

Haiti Noir

Finally finished reading Haiti Noir on my Kindle last night. It was appropriately horrifying, full of plot twists, and contained rich cultural and historical material to live up to the 'noir' aspects of short story fiction. One story that particularly stood out to me was the tale of a wealthy girl kidnapped for a ransom because of the surprising and ominous twist. Though some stories were more cliched and less interesting, it was refreshing and often humorous to see the fusion of supernatural phenomena and Haitian folklore with traditional noir elements. All in all, a great and quick read worth your time, edited by Edwidge Danticat.

Nelson Mandela and Malcolm X

A powerful scene I remember from Spike's Malcolm X biopic. Rest in peace, Malcolm, rest in peace, Mandela.

Ndodemnyama

While reading Jemima Pierre's thought-provoking piece on the reality of post-apartheid South Africa, I could not help but play the above anti-apartheid song. The article also has a great title ("Reconciliation is Not Decolonization"). Jemima Pierre is an excellent cultural anthropologist who has demolished so much of the academic/sociological material written by mostly white 'scholars' on race, black immigrants in the US, and West Indian/Caribbean ethnic groups in the US as drivel motivated by white stereotypes of the 'black underclass' and blackness itself. She also appears to be an astute observer and follower of trends in African history, no doubt perhaps influenced by her anthropological research. As a Haitian-American, Pierre's work has been valuable for undermining stereotypes of native African-Americans while also enlightening for African affairs. 

The N-Word

"Can you lend a nigga a pencil?"

One of the finest moments in The Boondocks is watchable here. Though the "N-word" is just a 'word,' words have power that varies with who uses them. I still detest white usage of the word, but hey, white folks will think we're niggas regardless of saying it out loud. I just wish more folks got angrier about other obvious or visible signs of racial inequities rather than symbolic or verbal forms of racial discrimination.  

Never Can Say Goodbye

For all the loved ones, ancestors, and people who have helped make our lives a little easier. 

Right and Wrong Are Just Words

"God": Right and wrong are just words. What matters is what you do.

Bender: Yeah I know, that's why I asked if what I did-- Forget it.

What's Goin' On?

"You know we gotta find some way to bring some lovin' here today."

RIP Mandela

Although I am not really too interested in hagiography, Mandela was indeed a 'great' person and complex figure whose death, though perhaps to be expected, will be mourned forever. It seems ironic that he would die so close to the anniversary of the death of Fred Hampton, illustrating how the struggles of black folks in the US and Africa are entwined.

http://africasacountry.com/three-myths-about-mandela-worth-busting/
http://africasacountry.com/songs-for-mandela-south-african-edition/

Julia Alvarez's A Wedding in Haiti

I finally read Alvarez's A Wedding in Haiti and though it was endearing, full of detail on the personal life of Alvarez (as well as forms of Dominican 'whiteness' in Santiago), and well-intentioned, it was sad to see how dependent she was on foreign white writers for understanding Haiti's history (something she compares to a nightmare at one point and exaggerates the extent of a 'genocide' against the remaining whites in Haiti during the days of Dessalines). But her relationship with the Haitian worker Piti and his family (and that of his Eseline, his future wife, which inspires the first trip to Haiti taken by Alvarez, her husband, etc.) is useful for looking at symbiotic and positive relationships between Haitians and Dominicans, even if it began with Alvarez and her white American husband starting a coffee farm, inherently unequal power relations.

What I particularly enjoyed was some of the rather repetitive and silly human drama that comes with all couples or trips. Alvarez and her husband, Bill, fighting and arguing, especially on their second trip to Haiti after the earthquake, was actually humorous and provided a fully human portrait of herself and her companions. Moreover, she has a very compassionate take on Haiti post-earthquake, describing in sad detail the devastation of Port-au-Prince, her own guilt and fears (she's influenced by the media reports of large-scale violence and crime in Haiti), and the obvious social inequality. Unfortunately, Alvarez lacks a more critical lens that sees beyond the benign intentions of missionaries, aid workers, and NGOs as a contributor to dependency and the inability of the Haitian state to develop accountability.

She does get to see rural Haiti (Moustique and other small villages and towns, for instance), go to Le Cap, visits Port-au-Prince (including spending a night in Petionville with a wealthy son of an American and a Tuareg woman from Niger, Adam), gets a personal tour of the capital from a Haitian police officer assigned at the Dominican consulate, experiences Haiti while driving across the country (from Santiago in the DR to all over the Haitian countryside (for the wedding, one in which Piti and Eseline are chastized for premarital relations!). It's an interesting book for sure, and certainly speaks to the possibility for people of different cultures, races, and languages to communicate, as Alvarez did with Eseline, her mother, her own parents deteriorating due to age and Alzheimer's, and Haitian people she encounters, such as one woman she shares an extra portion of pineapple (or was it mango?) with. Like I said previously, it's an endearing book written with simple prose that is immediately accessible and likely a reflection of some of the Dominican goodwill and interest in less combative or hostile relations with the sibling on the other side of the island. Who knows, maybe I'll finally read How The Garcia Girls Lost Their Accents, a novel given to me by a friend.

White Faces in Majority Black Public Schools?

One topic I have not encountered much academic literature on is the experiences of white students in majority black, 'inner-city' schools. I have met a handful of such people (their rarity is proof of how extensive racial segregation is in the US), and they were a mixed bag in their political orientation and class identity, though most came from lower class backgrounds or working-class roots. Some were Jewish secular leftists, or their descendants, who remained in neighborhoods that 'became' black in the Age of White Flight. Others were working-class whites who were "ethnic" at one point, and remained in the city limits and sent their children to inner-city schools. Others I have encountered are from poor families and rough circumstances, but seem to get by or have gotten through inner-city, often under-performing schools.

What I would love to see in some academic analysis is a discussion of how white students in these types of schools experience race, when do they develop a 'racialized' identity as white, and how their perceptions of black children (and blacks in general) are influenced by their deep and extensive firsthand interactions with predominantly people of color. In addition, I would have to gather some demographic and class data pertaining to how white students experience a gendered form of whiteness in "majority-minority" schools. Perhaps I'll start by questioning some white folks I know, though the ideal candidates would be people who are currently having that experience or recent graduates. Although I know some older whites who could be useful, too, though back in the 1970s the inner-city schools in the two large Midwestern cities I am accustomed to were very different.

Bobine

I love me some "Bobine." There is a 'bouncy' and joyous feel to the song that possesses an attractive but deceptively simple music structure. In addition, the melody is just perfect. My favorite version of the song, however, would not be the original recording by Les Ambassadeurs, but rather Los Diplomaticos de Haiti and a close second in Johnny Ventura. It also goes to show one how similar Haitian and Dominican popular music can be, with the ability of Dominican merengue artist Johnny Ventura to so expertly sing "Bobine." As for Los Diplomaticos, they feature a great saxophonist and guitarist who offer an almost folksy, roots sound to the music. Songs like "Bobine" are why folks who ignore Haitian and French Antillean Caribbean music are missing out. Haitian kompa is fun, highly rhythmic, passionate, and reveals the importance of transnational bonds and cultural exchange in the Caribbean world. Enjoy the song! The other versions I found online were less impressive.

Orchestre Citadelle

My jam! Enjoy some nice, old Haitian music from the 1950s. 

A Problematic Scene in The Wire

A powerful but problematic scene from "The Wire" on the question of violence in Black America. Though Bunk is right in many ways about how death ripples out, regardless of the victim's background or status, his statement about how "fall we done fell" is problematic and can be easily twisted into some form of culture of poverty or black dysfunction as a product of the black urban proletariat themselves. In other words, the urban poor of Baltimore and other black communities elsewhere and the alarming homicide rates are seemingly placed solely as the responsibility of the black urban poor themselves rather than a product of the War on Drugs and structural racism. Personal responsibility is obviously huge when discussing violence and homicide, but in this context, and for primarily white audiences, it's a little unclear and potentially dangerous to hear this kind of Moynihan-esque explanations for violence among the black underclass (blaming the victim essentially). 

This kind of stuff is something I observed as a pattern in the television form of "The Boondocks," which has led me to rethink my thoughts about "The Wire," too. Though David Simon's pessimistic program is more about systemic or institutional dysfunction rather than black cultural pathology, notions and ideas from the latter do appear in the series, something picked up on by black critics, such as Ishmael Reed. In addition, it's another example of white men profiting from and being recognized as 'experts' in the field of 'urban literature' and art, even though African-Americans from Baltimore's troubled neighborhoods would be far better at telling their own story than a white guy. This ain't to say that whites can't write about black life, but my sympathy for some of Reed's critiques of the show and how blacks are exploited and used in ways that prevent them from telling their own story for mainstream ('white') America has led me to a healthy skepticism and natural resistance to a lot of the shows touted as 'realistic' depictions of black life (and yes, I know 'black life' means many things, there is no monolithic standard of 'blackness). 

Guy Durosier

Beautiful music that reminds me of some deceased ancestors. Rest in peace.