Podcast S1 E2: Nations and Liberation Tunes

Welcome to Jahmi Roc’s Jottings, your seriously silly space to hear deep insights on music, especially reggae and samba reggae. It is my intention to share meaningful musicological arguments and observations, to inspire and, frankly, pass my doctoral exams. Welcome all! I’m your host, Jahmi Roc aka Racquel Bernard. Let’s start jamming!

Welcome to season 1 episode 2 of Jahmi Roc’s Jottings. Today we are diving into theories of nationalism. You might be wondering what nationalism is and why it is at all related to Gender and Spirituality in Postcolonial Musics. First, nationalism’s generic dictionary definition is “identification with one's own nation and support for its interests, especially to the exclusion or detriment of the interests of other nations.” Second, it relates to my work because liberation, or self-determination can in fact be thwarted by dangerous threads of nationalism. Now there are many nuances to what I have just said. In the United States, we are wary of white supremacist nationalism because of the evidence of harm that animates its legacies. At the same time, black nationalism was sometimes used as a way to combat white supremacist nationalism, but it has its own pitfalls if individuals and groups are not careful. For my field Gender and Spirituality in Postcolonial Musics, especially reggae and samba reggae, theories of nationalism are important to break down and digest because the postcolonial world is a world preoccupied with creating nations or recreating nations. So in 1962, when Jamaica became an independent nation free from the formal colonization of the UK there was a rush to determine what Jamaica would be, what values the nation would hold, what its motto would be and so forth. For Brazil, independence and nation-building came much sooner in 1822. It first kept a monarchial system until 1889 when the military declared Brazil a republic. In the time period that interest me most for reggae and samba related Brazilian genres, 1960-1980’s Jamaica saw a lot of political upheaval after labor unions became political parties and Brazil was going through a strict dictatorship.

Since Nationalism and its theories are so vast, I have a heftier list of scholars to examine. They are Henry Louis Gates, Umut Ozkirimli, Ernest Gellner, and Charles Garrett. Gellner calls nationalism “an inevitable part of the modern world” (viii). Gellner’s book Nationalism was actually finalized by David Gellner, his son. His father’s story is one marked by flight from the nationalism of Nazi Germany. Nazi Germany is one example that contextualizes the generic definition’s warning of national identification to the exclusion and detriment of others. Yet Gellner hopes in this text to give an account that is not solely focused on the dangerous strains of nationalism. I love that Ernest Gellner actually turned to an anecdote about music when critics called his theory “reductive”, ignoring or failing “to appreciate the feelings that nationalism engenders” (ix). He would play his Bohemian folk songs with his mouth organ and cry over his favorite form of music. Me too, Gellner. I get emotional about my liberation tunes in reggae and samba reggae, heck, I would throw hip hop, gospel, dancehall, and r&b in there too; so I lean towards representing a nuanced nationalism. I do not know if I think the “unholy alliance” of consumerism and moderate “non-territorial” nationalism is what I hope for as you did, but I can relate. For Gellner “nationalism is a political principle which maintains that similarity of culture is the basic social bond” (3). Gellner also explains that many people living within nation-states assume that nationalism is a given, when in fact, there are other form of social organization at work in different areas around the globe. I find that distinction really important, especially as a human living in the UScentric society and discourse of American universities. More to my point however, is that nations deal with postcolonial liberation via its musics. To that end, I would like to highlight the afro-bloco Muzenza’s song “Brilho de beleza”. (An afrobloco is a type of carnival related organization tied to a local space in Salvador da Bahia in Brazil).

“Brilho de beleza” is a song that references Bob Marley as the king of the black race. Gal Costa and Margareth Menezes both perform versions of the carnival song. Muzenza’s version is led by a male voice and mixed chorus. They sing

Adeus não, me diga até breve

Adeus não, eu sou muzenza do reggae

Adeus não, me diga até breve

Adeus não, eu sou muzenza do reggae

This means “goodbye, no, he tells me see you soon, goodbye no, I am Muzenza of reggae” They continue:

O negro segura a cabeça com a mão e chora

E chora, sentindo a falta do rei

O negro segura a cabeça com a mão e chora

E chora, sentindo a falta do rei

They are saying “the black person hangs his head and cries, and cries for the loss of a king.” They sing this to a samba reggae rhythm which rocks back and forth like a road march swaying in glee and excitement. Gal Costa’s version spells out the connections more deeply within the verses. I’ll get to that but I want to highlight why nation matters within the chorus and bridge. If Bob Marley is king over the black race, that means a black nation exists beyond actual nation boundaries and borders. If his death is seen as NOT final, then this song is defying the physical and political constraints of the nation state itself. Indeed black people around the world can often identify Bob Marley in our modern moment. His imagine is seen on regalia across continents, his children carry on the Marley legacy with an astute stewardship. All eleven of them. And because his union with Rita Marley was one that embraced what genetic snobs call “outside children” the Marley siblings really tend to lift each other up as they climb in their distinct talents. So yes, the black person may cry that Bob Marley died at age 36 but by Muzenza’s standards, this is not a forever death but a transcendent and transnation “I’ll see you soon.”

In the Gal Costa version the song has this verse

Quando ele explodiu pelo mundo

Ele lançou seu brilho de beleza

Bob Marley pra sempre estará

No coração de toda a raça negra

Quando Bob Marley morreu

Foi aquele chororô na Vila Rosenval

Muzemza trazendo Jamaica

Arrebentando nesse carnaval

Meaning:

When he exploded across the world

He cast his beauty glow

Bob Marley will forever be

In the heart of the entire black race

When Bob Marley died

There was a cry in Vila Rosenval

Muzenza bringing Jamaica

Rocking this carnival

As I send before, Marley’s death rocked black people across the world and keeps them rocking to his beautiful music. But not only that, black musics have been performing this kind of call and response for centuries. It’s nothing new. The reggae in samba reggae, does not only refer to reggae music from Jamaica, but reggae music in Brazil, Uruguay and other locales, and samba reggae also has ingredients from other places in the Caribbean too. Music then, is a global conversation that nations might package but cannot cage. Nations can be represented by genres but they cannot trap the genre down as it inevitably influences others. That is why I really appreciate Gellner’s nuanced take on nationalism. Umut Ozkirimli is a Political scientist who focuses on International relations and Middle Eastern Studies. In the third edition of his book Theories of Nationalism: A critical introduction, he talks about the potential ways that nationalism is purportedly countervailed by trends “such as various forms of transnationalism or supranationalism and their mirror images, localism, sectarianism and multiculturalism, and competing sources of collective identity, notably religion” (1). Is my grouping of gender and spirituality in postcolonial liberation musics starting to make more sense now? It is indeed sources of collective identity that make singing for freedom possible. Singing together, no matter the language. Singing transcends language in many ways. Have you ever heard artists speak about traveling to other countries and being impressed by the audience’s perfect sing-a-long prowess, despite the language gaps? That is what I’m talking about. Even Ozkirimli in the preface/acknowledgements talks about how draining creating the third edition of his monograph was and notes that his mum, aunt, and cousins “reached out from afar, sometimes, just to sing a song.” Singing truly changes things. How you sing also changes things. Hear me out. Singing the national anthem may reify nationalistic feelings, but perhaps singing the national anthem like Marvin Gaye did could engender other kinds of feelings?

The famous Henry Louis Gates, is an American literary critic, professor, historian, and filmmaker who serves as the Alphonse Fletcher University Professor and the director of the Hutchins Center for African and African American Research at Harvard University. In his 1988 book The Signifying Monkey: A Theory of African American Literary Criticism he flies in the face of what reminds me of respectability politics to pin point two trickster figures: Esu and the Signifying Monkey. In his preface, he explains “the challenge of [his] project if not exactly to invent black theory, was to locate and identify how the “black tradition” had theorized about itself” (Loc 62). That is also what I am after in the field of Gender and Spirituality in Postcolonial Liberation Musics: A discourse that refers to itself, particularly the ways reggae history and reggae sensibilities advance black liberation. Marvin Gaye even be seen as a playful trickster figure as he takes the national anthem and leads the audience to being clapping on the 2 and the 4 as he croons to a band that sounds out a version nothing like the original. Gates speaks on nationalism when he makes clear the biases in terms like canon, literary theory, or comparative literature saying “let us hope that the gradual erosion of those nationalist presuppositions that are amply evident in traditional schemes of categorization of the academic study of literature will serve as a model for the abolitionist presuppositions that are amply evident in tradition scheme of categorization of the academic study of literature will serve as a model for the abolition of racist and sexist presuppositions in literary as well” (Loc 188). Gates basically sums up my hopes for my future projects. That if I manage to pass my exams, I can get closer to the abolition of racism and sexism in the wider world, one liberation tune at a time.

Now hear my slight remix of Brilho de Beleza

Adeus não, me diga até breve

Adeus não, eu sou muzenza do reggae

Adeus não, me diga até breve

Adeus não, eu sou Jahmi Roc do reggae

O negro segura a cabeça com a mão e chora

E chora, sentindo a falta do rei

A negra segura a cabeça com a mão e chora

E chora, sentindo a falta do rainha

The queens of reggae and samba reggae are ultimate role models for me in my quest for liberation. They sing songs of freedom. Songs of freedom that Bob Marley refers to at times in advance wit his tune “Redemption Song” released in 1980. Redemption and Brilho give me a similar vibe to be honest. They both remind me of what we spoke about in the last episode about becoming free in our minds. Marley sings

Emancipate yourself from mental slavery

None but ourselves can free our minds

Have no fear for atomic energy

'Cause none of them can stop the time

How long shall they kill our prophets

While we stand aside and look?

Ooh, some say it's just a part of it

We've got to fulfill the book

Read together with Brilho de Beleza this verse is almost eerie. As if Marley predicted his own death. Thankfully Brilho de Beleza is mournful and hopeful. Marley’s death catapulted his message of liberation. His songs like “War” has plain liberatory lyrics like

Until the philosophy which hold one race

Superior and another inferior

Is finally

And permanently

Discredited

And abandoned

Everywhere is war

Me say war

His former bandmate Peter Tosh, a powerhouse reggae star who even more defiantly challenged the status quo has many tunes that attack racism and classism as well. But my project wants to shine light on the women who stood beside and sang beside these power house men. Yes, indeed, leaders of new black nations so to speak.

I’d like to conclude this episode of Jahmi Roc’s Jottings with a personal anecdote of how I learned about the genre of samba reggae. I was still studying at University of Southern California and I was trying to find a musical connection between Jamaica and Brazil. With the lol honorable desire to one day do research in Brazil where I had not yet visited. I was doing some googling and learned about axe music, which somehow led me to a list of Brazilian genres. One of them was beside a picture of a man in dreadlocks and it said samba reggae. Still, it was not until years later when I applied to the Fulbright when I landed on my research goal of comparing reggae with samba reggae. I won that Fulbright, I am grateful for that even though I was not able to go to Salvador Da Bahia in the end, I will always be thankful for the professors who wrote for me on this side of the Americas and that side. It was a freedom dream deferred if you will. Perhaps me and my family will seek out long term study in Brazil again when the time is right. Until then, I’ll be reading and jamming to the Gal Costa and Margareth Menezes. To all my listeners, thank you, and keep jamming!

Thank you for joining me for this episode of Jahmi Roc’s Jottings! I hope you enjoyed! Don’t forget to subscribe and hop on over to my artist page to hear some music that I hope changes the world for at least one soul!

You can find me on IG, FB, YT and TT @JahmiRoc

I look forward to sharing more musical moments with you next time. Take care and keep jamming!