Walapa : Entertainment

Hip Hop by any other Name is Still...

Hip Hop by Any Other Name is Still…

Nameless, Nonini and Jua kali- especially Jua Kali- have all rocked my world with their wicked rhymes. I hate software generated local music. Call it genge, boomba, kapuka, whatever. I dance to it every weekend. Sometimes, I even love to just chill and listen, especially when it is a jua kali track.

No, I am not schizophrenic. In addition, though it has yet to be officially confirmed, neither am I crazy. I am just culturally adrift. That is my condition. And I bet it’s a condition shared by many of my close relatives, i.e., every Kenyan aged below 35.
I wish we kept our own band music (for lack of a better name), did it in our own style, promoted it and kept it authentic. A true Kenyan sound.

Away with this digital kapuka business, which is just American hip hop moderately tweaked and localized to masquerade as something different. I wish we left hip hop to Americans and only imported it (no reason to be insular) instead of substituting our sound for something patently foreign.

Fellow youth, we have a problem. We are a most unfortunate generation because, along with jobs, we lack a firm cultural ‘rudder’ to steer us through the globalised (i.e., Americanized) confusion of the 21st century.
I could say many things about our cultural crisis. For example, there’s the slow death of indigenous languages as English and Sheng, backed by the heavy artillery that is hollywood, slowly execute a prolonged cultural coup d’etat.

That said, Sheng is a beautiful language. I use it heavily. Moreover, English has become the world’s most important language. The problem is that the youth are not learning their indigenous languages well enough. Parents are especially to blame for this. I cringe every time I come across a new mother or father communicating to their child in broken Kiswahili or English. However, let me stick to music.
There’s a dichotomy in Kenyan popular music. First, there’s what I earlier referred to as band music. This music is actually made by real musicians who are able to really sing or play instruments or both. Some of them are even able to read music. And they only use computers to supplement their creativity. Sometimes not at all. Here we have Uyoga, Ayub Ogada and the artists I like to think of as neo-Afro, such as Harry Kimani, Eric Wainana, Achieng Abura and Suzanne Owiyo.

Then there’s ‘Local’. This genre is extremely confused. It does not know whether to call itself Kapuka, genge or Boomba. So most of us just refer to it as ‘local’. Really, it is mostly a Kenyan version of hip hop. Admittedly, it does have some of what I consider high quality artists. I particularly admire Nameless and Jua kali. The late E-sir was flawless.

Nevertheless, I do not believe that the true musical face of Kenya is boomba or Kapuka. Not even genge. In addition, ‘local’ is plagued by other issues, such as the tendency of the artists to defraud paying fans by lip synching. Or the fact that in a country full of problems, local artists seem stuck for subjects to rap or sing about. So they stick to booze and chicks (or guys). And why do they sound so different when performing live (, i.e., when not lip synching)? What juju fraud do those producers perpetrate in the studio with their newfangled technologies?

In any event, the main issue, I believe, is not the ones of quality raised above, but the issue of cultural relevance. I repeat, I do not believe ‘local’ songs, in both style and content, properly represent our African heritage. Why? Because they lack an African sound. A musicologist would probably be better able to articulate what that means. But when I compare kapuka, for example, and what Suzanne Owiyo does, I know that the latter has more cultural authenticity than the former. Ask me to take a Kenyan song to an International cultural festival and I will pick Owiyo’s composition over Nonini’s every time. Never mind that I am a Nonini fan.

Unfortunately, ‘local’ rules. While the Abura’s and the Owiyo’s struggle to keep an authentic Kenyan sound going, software-generated music assails you whichever frequency you tune to.

It is said that a people’s music will often tell you a story about them. In that case, apart from the fact that we are completely colonized by the west, our local songs, for ‘every three minutes and thirty seconds of every day’, tell a very dark tale.

Indeed. Where ‘local’ cannot decide whether its genge, boomba or kapuka, our government can’t decide whether its Narc, NAK, NAK and KANU or DP. Forget the opposition.

While JamNazi is ‘not sober’, Nonini is ‘keroro’ and Nameless exhorts you to ‘take off your underwear’, ‘keroro’ ya methanol is blinding and killing – Ugandans drink more than us? More than everybody? God help them! - while some girls who did take off their underwear are dumping unwanted fetuses near major highways.

Anyway, I digress. The point is, we really should not be copying the American sound or style or musical themes. It misleads us. Furthermore, Americans will always do their thing better than Africans, Europeans or Asians. Conversely, Africans will always perform African art better than anybody else can.

Westerners look just as silly trying to be African as we do trying to be Western (although we’ve had lots of practice). Remember Edward Clay trying to speak Kiswahili? Awful stuff. Not that there’s anything wrong with him learning the language. Just as there is nothing wrong with us learning English or Arabic. But his halting, faltering efforts drove home the point that one must not abandon their own cultures in pursuit of new ones. That is why he was quickly able to switch back to English when his Swahili, just like Boyz II Men, reached the ‘end of the road’.

Speaking of Boyz II Men, how come 5 Alive never made it, despite their evident talent? I distinctly recall Eric Wainana voicing the group’s determination to go after a Grammy after a performance at the then Rib Shack. Was the breakup due to Management issues? Divergent ambitions? Or did it have something to do with the fact that nobody (especially the big labels) was interested in five Kenyan boys acting as if they were born in Detroit (or wherever the heck Boyz II Men come from)?

There once was a certain coast fellow who called himself ‘Emachichi’. Beautiful African sounding name. Quite a regular he was on that old KBC show,’ Burudani’. Unfortunately, his name is about as African as he got. Everything else about him screamed R.Kelly and Michael Jackson combined. His music was a type of R&B. His hair was a Satin Sheen advert, all sleek and curly. It looked ready to ignite in that coast heat. Combine that with dark aviator glasses, a white gloved hand and white revealing socks, and one would be forgiven for half expecting to hear the beats to ‘Billie Jean’ when he crossed a room. The dude had the look of a star. But no one was interested. Know why? The real thing is always better than a copycat.

Speaking of R&B, I love Harry Kimani. Here is actually a real musician, one that can really sing and play an instrument to boot. Talented fellow. But I urge him to be careful. He is treading on dangerous ground. He shouldn’t try to be too R&B. Perhaps he could look to Salif Keita and Youssou N’dour, who make beautiful, slow and inspiring music but with a distinctive African sound. It is their Africanness that sells them around the world. You have to do your own thing as an African.

The copycat problem is not limited to Africa, of course. Europe has hip hoppers too. These guys operate in highly developed environments. They are acknowledged and well paid stars in their countries. Yet Jay Z outsells the top French rappers in France! Know why? Because when the world wants to listen to hip hop, it goes for the original thing.

The same is true for all products. Patriotism is irrelevant. That is why French champagne has more value in the USA than the Californian variety. Therefore, it does not matter how good Jua Kali is (and he is very good). He is not about to take over Eminem’s mantle.
Feni Anikulapo Kuti, Femi Kuti, Werrasson, Fadhili Williams, Salif Keita, Brenda Fassie have all composed some of the most successful songs out of Africa because they copied nobody. They had or have their own style. Individually they may have been different. Nevertheless, they all had or have a sound unique to Africa.

The Cat’s club at Safari Park is usually filled with USIU students (myself included) on Thursday nights. Many would say that USIU is perhaps the most westernized community in Kenya. However, you should see us when the DJ replaces 50 cent and Nonini with ‘Mwendwa wakwa mariru’,’Katitu’ and ‘am not sober’. Do not even mention Mugithi. It’s like a tsunami the way we take to the dance floor and proceed to ‘katika’ like mad. This convinces me that our own music is alive and well and would flourish if those among us with the rare talent to sing would embrace it, appreciate it, love it and perform it.

Away with this hip hop wannabe lifestyle we are so good at. Sure, I like hip hop. But I would rather import the real thing. Meanwhile, I want my fellow Kenyan to rock my world with a kind of music I can identify with. Something I can truthfully call my own.
However, I am troubled. Did I lose this argument before I finished it? Will our penchant for the foreign prevail? Or will Suzanne Owiyo, Achieng Abura and Harry Kimani ride in and save the day?

Hold on. Someone just turned up the radio. I can hear Nonini. He’s rapping. Anataka ‘mtoto mzuri’. But what was that? Pinkie said she would play Harry Kimani next? Great! There are possibilities.

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