Rai of light: Rachid Taha
When you hear the phrase ‘world music’, what do you think of? The krautish desert-throb of Tinariwen? The chirpy Chinese pop-punk of Carsick Cars? Or Charlie Gillett chewing on a piece of bark?
This week sees Dingwalls hosting the sixth annual Radio 3 Awards for World Music. While the ceremony – and station – deserve high praise for their commitment to showcasing a broad church of international sounds, we at Time Out must admit we do have a problem with the name.
World music, in this country at least, has an air of rattan sandals about it, as well as a slightly more unpleasant waft of colonialism – as if we are the only society who have civilised music, and the rest are merely sonic curios to be catalogued. This depersonalises music, which as we all know, makes anything easier to hate.That’s not to say we shouldn’t label traditional, and emerging, sounds from exotic locales at all, but surely it isn’t that hard to call the genres by their own names, and come up with a less patronising umbrella name? We’d suggest ‘roots’, which we use in our listings, because we’re cool. But ‘International Music Awards’ would do at a pinch.
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This isn’t just another case of hairshirted, lefty-liberal self-harm. We don’t feel guilty. Britain’s music fans are ahead of the curve in appreciating (and appropriating) music of other origins. Just ask Rachid Taha, who is headlining this year’s awards show. Taha, whose sound mixes everything from techno to rai to punk via dub, says that Britain is one of the few places which treats him as a mainstream musician, whereas in his native France, ‘Everybody bought [debut album] “Un Deux Trois Soleil” just to say, “Ah, now I have my Arabic album”. But that doesn’t make chaabi and rai more played the radio – they’re still limited to specific Arabic stations.’
No one is quite sure where the term ‘world music’ actually came from, but like all genre names, it functions as a marketing device. Legend has it the phrase was decided upon in June 1987, at a secret meeting more suited to SMERSH or the fashion council from ‘Zoolander’. The assembled industry decreed that the music consumers were sophisticated enough to get into non-Western forms of music, but not sophisticated enough to differentiate between African and Asian sounds, and so a catch-all title was required for the dividers on the racks at Our Price. Nothing wrong with that – every new product needs a snappy title to sell it. But it is solely on this basis that the name has outlived its usefulness. Music consumers today actually prefer buying into genres no one else has heard about. Few, say, baile funk listeners would classify themselves as world music fans. Much as folk has rehabilitated itself from its old finger-in-the-ear, mouse-shavings-in-the-real-ale image by the addition of sexy prefixes (alt, nu, or, for the Serbian nationalists, turbo), so world music needs to rebrand itself, and fast.
Taha, though, is more concerned about roots music’s lack of airplay. This, he says, is related to the decline of political protest in Europe, and a status quo which has a vested interest in stifling communication between cultures. Exposure, says Taha, is key to breaking any new cultural phenomenon.
‘It makes the ears more used to the sound,’ says Taha. ‘And the culture. That’s why Rihanna was a massive success, because she was played everywhere, and she was Number One in Greece, Cyprus and Turkey at the same time. But in France, we have lots of prejudice and a large majority of French people still haven’t accepted the fact that they lost Algeria.’
Our official institutions, says Taha, don’t reflect the innate placidity of our populations.
‘Recently I took the Eurostar,’ Taha recalls. ‘I always need to have a visa as I am Algerian. And the English guy doing the checks said, “Is that an Arabic passport?” And I said “Yes”. And he said, “Well, we’re at war.” I said, “We are?” And he took me aside and said, "We are at war, against you, the Arabs." Maybe you’re shocked by that.’
In Taha’s opinion, world music’s precarious position on the fringes of culture is symptomatic of a spreading isolationism in Europe.
‘Look,’ he barks. ‘Europe is a coward. Look at Putin, he’s a dictator, nobody says anything. We killed Saddam – why? And look what happened, we are now destroying their entire population. European governments have soft balls. In terms of China, why don’t we say anything about what’s going on with Tibet? There is a double standard. Why aren’t we going to attack China? I am sorry to say but I think the Occidental world is against the Arabic world. This is something the Arabic people can really feel. And that’s why some kids turn into fanatics.’
Maybe this all this talk of utopian genre definitions sounds a bit Bono to you, but blanket-labelling all the world’s other indigenous music plays into the xenophobic mindset. Music fans – and citizens in general – are now worldly, sophisticated and Google-equipped enough to easily find out what an individual genre is called, what it sounds like, who makes it and what it’s about. And by demystifying cultures, we can at least feel part of a meaningful dialogue, even if it’s only about dance steps and B-lines. Ultimately, music gives us an opportunity to build an understanding based on non-political criteria. Like sport, except it’s something the UK is good at.
‘I’m not supporting fanaticism, but that’s why some young people turn to fanaticism, because they already live in dictatorships, and these are supported by the Occidental governments, who don’t want the status quo to change. When I hear the French president say that Saudi Arabia is a great example of a modern, moderate Muslim nation, it makes me die laughing. That means that he doesn’t know anything. When you have a French president who can’t tell the difference between the shias and the sunni, we’re allowed to ask ourselves who is governing us. This is the source of all racism.’
Got a better idea? Time Out are offering a pair of tickets to the Awards For World Music celebratory concert on July 30 for anyone with a more fitting name for world music than ‘roots’. Email your suggestions to music@timeout.com.
Rachid Taha plays the Radio 3 Awards For World Music at Dingwalls on April 10, providing he doesn’t get arrested at King’s Cross, or Paris Gare du Nord for that matter. Tickets are free (subject to availability) from www.bbc.co.uk/whatson/tickets – we’d advise you to arrive early if you get some, it’s going to be busy.
1 comment
Eddy Lawrence’s article entitled ‘Why World Music Must Die’ (April 3-9, no. 1963) raises some interesting points about the shortcomings of the term ‘world music’. Indeed, our magazine – Songlines – changed its strapline from ‘The World Music Magazine’ to ‘Discover a World of Music’ for similar reasons. However, on several points, we felt it important to respond.
Firstly, Lawrence argues that ‘roots’ is a far better description. Despite the confusion this may cause amongst folk music lovers, where the word is already in wide usage, ‘roots’ suggests indigenous or traditional music. Whilst a lot of ‘world music’ falls into this bracket, what about the kaleidoscopic range of global hybrid and club sounds out there?
Secondly, the article states that ‘music consumers today actually prefer buying into genres no one else has heard about’. Agreed, music consumers are more savvy than ever, thanks to the internet, music downloads and, more generally, growing cultural globalisation. But isn’t replacing one catch-all term (world music) with another (roots) just renaming the problem? The alternative would be to split each of these musics into their own genres. Let’s take the popular South African band Ladysmith Black Mambazo as an example. Would anyone be able to track them down if they were signposted under isicathamiya in the local record shop? If you’ve got a vague interest in African music words like isicathamiya, kora and kwaito may still mean little and, quite possibly, appear pretty daunting.
Essentially ‘world music’ is a marketing term that serves its purpose. Yes, it has drawbacks and failings – but it remains the best of a bunch of terms, as Lawrence’s article inadvertently demonstrates. It’s certainly true that baile funk lovers or salsa fanatics may not see themselves as world music fans. But perhaps the real notion that needs to change is the myth – a rather tired gag – propagated by the mainstream media that ‘world music’ aficionados are, at best, ageing, sandal-wearing hippies.