The Hiplife Complex

Happy 50th Birthday, Ghana: Obrafour's classic song "Kwame Nkrumah"

2007-03-05T16:24:00.000-06:00

On March 6, 1957, the Gold Coast gained independence from Britain. In 1960, Dr. Kwame Nkrumah became independent Ghana's first president.

One of my alltimme favorite Ghanaian rappers—Obrafour—pays tribute to Nkrumah and his legacy in the Song "Kwame Nkrumah". Despite his eventual downward sprial into controversial policies and behavior, Nkrumah remains a huge figure in African poilitcal history.

The song is off Obrafour's first album. It's not the first song with conscious lyrics to become a hit, but it is one of the most memorable.

In honor of Ghana's 50 years of independence I thought I'd show you all this classic hiplife clip, "Kwame Nkrumah" by Obrafour:

Check out Obrafour's myspace page.

CDs for Cedis: Making Money Doing Hiplife

2007-03-02T06:02:00.000-06:00

"So why did you get into hiplife?"

"Well, I had been watching these music video clips from abroad and I thought it just looked so cool. Tupac, Biggie, Ja Rule...Now we have our own style."

"Of course. But why else did you start doing hiplife?"

"Because I wanted to make some money, be a big guy like Obour, Tic Tac, Tinny..."

Some people get into hiplife for the (perceived) opportunity of making money. One of the most common things I heard from people involved with hiplife was that the music industry (hiplife in particular) is providing the youth with all kinds of employment. Ghana is about to celebrate 50 years of independence (on March 6), but most of the older folks I know in Ghana have told me that the standard of living is worse now than it was in the mid-to-late 1960s. So it comes as no surprise that so many student-age young people see hiplife as a viable employment option.

The music industry in Ghana is really it's own thing altogether. Pretty much everything is curiously different from what goes on in not only N. America and Europe but neighboring places like Nigeria, Cote d'Ivoire, and Mali. Think about where you're from and how the music scene is there and consider this:

What many people the world over know as the "executive producer," i.e. the guy with the money, is known in Ghana as simply the "producer." A small difference, but this was confusing to me at first. I thought producer refers to someone involved with actual music making, the creative end of things. Not the case in Ghana, where the producer is the guy who puts up the money for an artist to record his album.

These guys have written their own rules to the music business, Ghana-style. Considering the fact that most hiplife producers lack a background in music or entertainment, it's not that surprising. One cool thing about hiplife is that it provides a platform for amateur performers to grow into professionals with a bit of energy and money. It also provides the opportunity for aspiring moguls to get their feet wet in entertainment, on the cheap. The mountains of "underground" hiplife tapes (or small-time limited distribution, usually casette-only, releases) from all over the country are made for far less than $2000 in most cases. If a song becomes a hit and the group gets lots of high-paying gigs, the producer makes some money on his investment. That's not to say making a profit is easy in the hiplife game (see below).

These producers get things done, multitasking is the name of their game. From manager to booking agent to publicist to accountant, most producers cover all the bases at once. I was told this is because of a shortage in finances, which makes it difficult to pay a different person to do each of the many jobs. And, since so many of the tasks involve greasing palms with thick wads of cash, it makes financial sense to have one person fulfill most roles at once. Payola can tap a producer's resources quickly. But it also possibly focuses all trust and money-making potential in one place. Although I don't think I have much evidence of that notion. Just a hunch...

These hiplife recordings sell 100,000 units tops, usually FAR fewer. In rare cases, hiplife cassettes have sold upwards of 400,000. If the street price of a cassette is 10,000 cedis, roughly $1.15, and there is usually a distributor or depot that's getting a cut somewhere along the way, you're not talking about enormous sales profits. CDs sell for around 75,000 cedis, or around $8.65, so there's a bit more of a profit there. But most major hiplife CDs are manufactured in England or Europe so there are extra costs involved as well.

You want your new single on the radio in one of the big cities? 1 or 2 million cedis (around $115 or $225) is often all it takes to get a B-status DJ to makes sure your shit gets spun regularly. Of course, with more than 14 radio stations in the Accra area alone, it won't be easy getting your music played by every DJ on every station, unless of course you have a truckload of Ghana's often soiled and stanky bank notes. Rumour has it that some of the big name guys and gals in urban radio are taking up to 5 million cedis to put a song in heavy rotation. Good luck with that, youngsters...

... And that's where the producer comes in. There's the all-too-common story I would hear: young person discovers his talent in the schoolyard/church/street corner, elder relative/neighbor/businessperson catches wind and a lightbulb goes on in their head and/or the young person approaches them for advice/money/support/all the above and they decide to help/invest in them. Artist and "producer" live happily/unhappily ever after (with the occasional drama and/or divorce, of course). The artist is at the complete will of the producer, who nrmally buys the rights to the album outright, thereby collecting the CD/cassette sales profits for himself.

There's a post about tv advertising and hiplife. These days, the biggest names in hiplife are making more money from product endorsement deals than record sales.

More to come.

Stylus Magazine

2007-01-31T10:13:00.000-06:00

Hey... It's been a little while since I updated The Hiplife Complex with something fresh... I know, I'm lame.

Here's something new though... A starter's guide to getting into hiplife at Stylus Magazine.

If you've happened upon this place via Stylus... Welcome! A special thanks to Todd & co. at Stylus for inviting me to ramble on about hiplife in their space. Watch out for a couple hiplife podcasts curated by me here: http://stylusmagazine.com/stypod/

New posts coming very soon. Promise.

Meantime, I also keep this blog which some of you might find amusing: http://www.awesometapesfromafrica.blogspot.com

Hiplife Videos on YouTube

2006-06-10T08:03:00.000-05:00

These were most likely ripped from a VCD bootleg collection of popular hiplife "clips," the kind you would buy off a guy selling them out of his backpack or a wodden kiosk in virtually any town in Ghana.

"Ahomka Womu" - VIP

VIP's classic cut, "Ahomka Womu," one which you should definitely know about. The song combines old school highlife in a really tasteful way, making it one of the biggest tracks in the last few years. The first couple verses of rhymes are dead-on with catchy phrasing. A relatively interesting video, especially near the end when the trio of rappers/singers have a 70s flashback moment complete with matching suits and afros.

The majority of music video directors in Ghana stay away from ironic or conceptual themes. There are some notable exceptions, though.

King Luu is one of the most ambitious directors in Ghana today. He has been in the business since it started back in the mid-90s, putting together over the years countless memorable clips for hiplife, gospel, and highlife artists.

"Adua No Ebu," the big-budget, high-concept video he shot for masters of irony Nkasei a few years back, exemplifies King Luu's vision. With a clip, he wants to tell a story, Luu told me one afternoon. "Adua No Ebu" depicts the slave trade in Africa and is set on a green mountain far from the homes of the urbanite rappers and production staff.

There is nothing on the web (yet) in regards to "Adua No Ebu," but the video is considered a classic. It features Reggie Rockstone to boot, who does a verse in English. The song is critical of colonialism and the post-colonial mentality. I may eventually post excerpts of my interviews about the song with the members of Nkasei and video director King Luu.

"Toffee" - Castro

This is Castro ("the Destroyer"). He's a big star now that this song is played fifty million times a day on the radio. Catchy nonetheless, using Congolese bass and drums riddim courtesy of celebrity engineer J-Que. "Toffee" is a King Luu video.

Enjoy.

Neighborhood Folk

2006-04-29T11:21:00.000-05:00

Some places I've been reading of late (in no particular order):

-Naija Jams is your spot for info on music in Nigeria, usually hip-hop related. If you didn't hear about it last year, read about the 50 Cent's run-in with local rap star Eedris at an airport, which casued 50 to end his tour prematurely.

-Africanhiphop.com remains the central and most vital source of information on hip-hop across the continent. This cat from Holland has been running the site for years now. He mainly does a lot of research and work with Tanzanian artists.

-Benn loxo du taccu is the best African mp3 blog I know of. Matt knows his stuff!

-Also, if you're a big dork like me and still hungry for more, check African-rap.com for the latest info on African hip-hop news and events in Europe.

For those with adventurous ears and fewer Afrocentric tendencies:

-Check Woebot for thoughtful articles on everything from rare-ass vinyl to French prog and other stuff you've probably never heard of (that's good).

-Funky 16 Corners is a way daunting collection of rare funk and soul 45s with comprehensive descriptions.

-Cocaine Blunts is downright vital for rap/hip-hop heads looking for mp3s and commentary on the rappers/producers you know and love and the underground artists you wish you knew about earlier.

I have been doing an mp3 blog of sorts myself called Awesome Tapes from Africa. You'll find the occasional hiplife cut there, along with a bunch of weird and/or amazing music I have come across. Tapes must never be forgotten.

Peace in Dagbon, Northern Ghana?

2006-04-19T23:01:00.001-05:00

BBC report here describes the recent funeral for the murdered King of Dagbon. Four years ago he and twenty or so of his men were slain by the rival clan vying for the throne.

Tamale, the town I've been blogging about recently, is largest town in the Dagbon traditional area in the Northern Region. Although the actual capital of the kingdom is in Yendi, a several hours down the road, Tamale is largest Dagomba town.

This BBC article is a bit sensationalist at times. But useful in gaining a broader sense of the context in which some young musicians are making serious strides.

Just check out the last few posts for more on hiplife in Northern Ghana.

A Snapshot of Popular Music in Tamale

2006-04-17T21:16:00.000-05:00

There are so many musicians doing creative things in Tamale, Northern Region, Ghana. I wanted mention just a couple of them. Hopefully, there be time in future to devote to talking about more of these singular local artists.

I met Abada when they played a VCD (yeah, that's right. that's what's often used in Ghana) release party for one young hiplife group called B.F.G.s. Their name, which stands for Big Friendly Guys, subverts the stereotypes amongst ordinary folks that hiplife dudes are trouble. This is the first Tamale hiplife artist to release a VCD, so this show was big. Abada were part of a line-up that included most of the top Tamale musicians of the last several years. The show and after-show lasted til late. At least 10 different groups and individuals performed a mix of hiplife, their local brand of highlife, and reggae. The parking lot outside was a sea of motorbikes and ice cream sellers and all sorts of local teens. Most people ended up at another place on the other side of town where there were DJs spinning the usual mix of r&b, hip-hop, dancehall, and local sounds.

~~This song~~ is a good example of the kind of different approaches some people have to hiplife up north. As opposed to the straight hip-hop groove of producers like Hammer, or the folk/dance-related styles of other Accra- and Kumasi-based producers and programmers, Northern musicians are using a broader spectrum of influecnes in their creatiaons. This is track is both simple and deep. This use of indigneous-sounding melodies is rarely used in this fashion by mainstream hiplife artists from the southern part of Ghana.

Abada, interviewed at their hang-out. An area they call Yaari ghetto. Black Moon on the right, Black Shanty on the left

Here they are on stage at the release party the night before. This is at one of the main nightlife spots in town, Picorna.

Black Moon, the the sweeter, highlife-oriented half of the vocal duo.

Black Shanty, the ragga boy with the rough and deep tones.

MC Rauf, aka Shoe Shine Boy, is one of the well-established veterans of the scene these days. I met him when I first came to Tamale in 2002 and we chatted at his barbershop. He was initially a shoe shine boy, he told me. To be a shoe shine boy is one of least desirable or profitable gigs in Ghana, but it also connotes a sort of dilligence, which Rauf seems to embody. Listen to one song, aptly titled "~~Shoe Shine Boy~~," is from his first record. This is reggae, Tamale style. That's the style for which MC Rauf is known. It might sound a bit different to your ears. Production facilities in Northern Ghana even to this day are lacking in most cases. This music is not very recent, but Rafu still plays it live, as he did at Picorna that time more recently for the VCD release party.

I was lucky to come back to Tamale after about three years and kick it with Rauf again.

Gyedu-Blay Ambolley and the Roots of Hiplife

2006-04-09T11:40:00.000-05:00

One of the first questions I would ask anyone in Ghana that I interviewed was, "When did you first hear someone rap in a local language?" If I could take all the footage I shot and make one massive montage of people giving their three-word answer, it would last at least five minutes.

Gyedu Blay-Ambolley.

Reggie Rockstone is almost universally recognized as the first really rap in a clear adaptation of hip-hop aesthetics. He was the first to do something referred to by the indignenized moniker, hiplife. But, the first Ghanaian musician to "rap"-- to speak quickly using rhyme, metaphor, and other poetic and/or verbal devices-- was Gyedu-Blay Ambolley (according to the people with whom I spoke).

So, it follows that we check out what is arguably the first use of rap in Ghana on a record (that I know of at least). The song is called ~~"Highlife"~~. It's essentially Burger highlife (a sort of disco-infused higlife which emerged in the late-1970s), with its four-on-the-floor groove, synths, and English lyrics. This recording comes from the consistently impressive Cut Your Coat LP (1985).

This excellent site offers more info on Ambolley and Ambolley's own site is homebase proper for sure...enjoy.

I traded records with a guy in Accra, that's where I got this record. I gave him a stack of vinyl, which included Nas' Illmatic, The Listening by Little Brother, and the "Blue Flowers" 12", and he gave me this and a few other highlife, juju, and afro-beat LPs. His name is Nii and he's a really great guy. If you want to trade records/DJ equipment with a guy in Ghana, contact me and I'll link you up.

Hip-Hop Is Big In Mali

2006-04-06T23:31:00.000-05:00

A wall near the town football stadium, Mopti, Mali

A wall on a building near the university, Timbuktu, Mali

They Use Rap To Sell Alcohol in Africa Too

2006-04-04T23:04:00.001-05:00

Most musicians in Ghana, even some of the most famous ones, don't make tons of money. They have to pay bills, so many appear in advertisements if they can.

Click here to see this commercial a seriously seminal rapper did with a local drink company. (Go to the Media Room and click on the third video)

This is not an isolated case. Another key forefather of the movement told me he made more money on a single ad contract with a major beer company than he did in his whole career in music. My previous post makes mention of hiplifers and adverts.

So, why not go for some real money in endorsements? Why not, when you're minor (in many cases) fiscal stake in your music prevents you from making the kind of cash you probably deserve?

Most hiplife artists sell the rights to their record outright to a producer in order to get it printed and onto the market. The artist gets a chunk of cash. But even if the song sells a lot, they don't see too much more money, unless they play lots of shows.

GhanaConscience Breaks Down Sidney's "Obia Nye Obia"

2006-04-03T23:20:00.000-05:00

Here you'll find a thorough article on Sidney's most recent status-quo-perturbing cut, "Obia Nye Obia." The article is written from the perspective of someone in Ghana, hearing all the back and forth of arguments for and against the song's message, a message that seems to have polarized folks.

It's business as usual for Sidney, whose earlier controversial work includes "Scenti No" and "Abuskeleke." The former is a metaphor-laden ode to the various smells found around Accra, some of which originate in the Parliament house and/or the MP's armpits. The latter talks of young girls and their bodies, which can be used by men to a point (for a price, of course) but are eventually theirs (and only theirs) take elsewhere. Abuskeleke is a commonly-used, though uncouth, slang term basically meaning slut, to simplify translation. Not sure which came first the song or the associated term.

Long story short, Sidney talks about issues that stir up public discussion. Read the above-linked article about his "Obia Nye Obia" and check out the vital lyricist that is Sidney the "Hiplife Ninja."

Check out GhanaConscience, which is part of GhanaThink.org. They have an enormous database of lyrics to Ghanaian songs, including lots of hiplife stuff. That's where I found this awesome article.

PS- I wish I had a photo of the huge billboards advertising Champion Condoms in Ghana. Sidney is on there endorsing this popular brand, lurking over bus stations and traffic circles around the country. They had radio commercials which Sidney raps on to the beat of "Scenti No," only this time he inserts "Champion Condoms" in there somewhere...

Hammer Makes Serious Beats

2006-04-02T18:32:00.000-05:00

This is Hammer. He is known for beats that, on the surface, borrow more from Western-style hip-hop than they do from Ghanaian dance rhythms and folk songs. But, if you listen closely, you can hear local sensibilities.He is conscious of Akan tradition rhythms such as Adowa when he composes his beats. This contrasts with J-Que’s (see previous post) sound in many ways, not least because J-Que’s jama is a Ga rhythm. Like Wulomei in the '70s, J-Que has sparked a Ga cultural revival through his consistent use of a rhythm they consider to be their own. Actually a number of other groups in Ghana lay claim to jama, but we won't get into that here.

Tympani, orchestra chimes, and minor keys feature strongly in Hammer's productions, while most beat programmers stick to your usual synthesized trumpet and organ timbres. Hammer acknowledges his penchant for a driving pulse that usually hangs somwhere around 112 BPM. This is faster than States-side hip-hop tends to be. Don’t forget, we’re still in Ghana, where music generally needs to be danceable if anyone’s going to buy it or spin it.

With a sound that has influenced a significant number of beat programmers in Ghana, Hammer still somehow feels like a cult phenonmenon almost. Since he refuses to work with artists who can't rap hard over a beat or freestyle acapella, he is not quite as prolific as some of the other top engineers in Accra. You don't hear his beats for five songs in a row on the radio (this can happen with a couple other engineers/producers). His work is instantly recognizable and the rappers who bless his tracks are some of the most hardcore in Ghana, though not necessarily the most rich and famous.

Hammer works almost exclusively with local-language rappers. Known for his work initially with Twi rapper Obrafuor, and later with Tinny, Hammer encourages virtuosic skills. He is credited with pushing Tinny, one of Ghana's biggest rappers, to begin rapping in what was then considered an unconventional language, Ga. Tinny's Ga rhymes blow people away with their clever twists and pointed remarks. Ga is the language spoken by the original inhabits of what is now Accra, Ghana's capital. But, the vast majority of Ghanaians cannot understand speak Ga, even many of those who live in Accra. Only now, with the popularity of Tinny, and more recently, Castro, I found people rocking Ga hiplife songs all over Ghana, even in the Twi stronghold of Kumasi and all the way in the Upper East Region. Ga language has gained a sort of hip cachet amongst young people in the smaller urban centers of Ghana, being that it has become associated with big city life and several huge hiplife songs whose lyrics reflect fast and fun times. This all comes (indirectly) thanks to the support and collaboration of Hammer.

Ground breaking work with Obrafuor, along with a series of compilations, have laid the foundations for a counter-movement of hiplife artists who don't care much for the bubblegum arrangements and lovey-dovey lyrics found in many mainstream jams. Rather, Hammer and his camp of young rappers bring the only hint of locally produced edginess that can be found on most local radio stations. Nevertheless, innumerable English-language emcees sporting hard beats and conscious rhymes continue to languish in almost complete obscurity...

Nurturing underground rappers is the new trend among the hiplifers who have already reached a certain level of success in the industry. Hammer oringinated this trned with his series of Compilations, which drawn on the talent of underground cats who've made their way into Hammer's camp. It is though these comps that underground rappers likeKwaw Kesse and Okra Tom became well-known over the last couple years.

Hammer was one of the first people I contacted when I reached Ghana, and he became a sort of touchstone for me throughout my year of research. He was the first person to invite me to Hush Hush to observe a recording session. Hammer also introduced me to a number of players in the industry. Much respect to Hammer, a very humble, down-to-earth, and talented individual.

An Interview With J-Que, Hiplife's Leading Producer

2006-03-05T10:08:00.000-06:00

J-Que's sound is ubiquitous. He is everywhere. The following interview certainly finds him sounding a bit cocky at times, but this is with good reason: He is only a exaggerating a little when he says 80% of the song played on the radio are his productions.

After introducing a hiplife interpretation of traditional dance rhythm, jama (or dzama), several years ago, J-Que has transformed hiplife. No longer can people easily argue hiplife has nothing Ghanaian in it. Generally understood to be a Ga rhythm, jama is used by people around the country, especially at football matches, where there are bands in the stands playing along to support their team. For those of you familiar with Latin American music, the skeletal basis for jama is very similar to the 3-2 clave rhythm found in many genres from that part of the world.

Today, the rap heard on the radio and on TV, the mainstream stuff, is produced by J-Que. Increasingly, though, J-Que's music may very well be the soundtrack to which so many Ghanaian youth live life. And, now that the elders are taking a serious liking to the traditional dance rhythms infused in the music, J-Que and his jama have become almost universal. Even cats up north are using jama rhythms in their songs.

J-Que is the most sought after, most imitated producer no doubt. But there are a lot of people who don't like him, his music, and his attitude. he seemed like a real guy to me, but others have accused him of a lot of drama. Haters abound. After all, how many dudes in Ghana get to drive a turqouise BMW?

Below are excerpts from a long conversation with J-Que where he talks about his approach to music, the fans who love it, and the future of hiplife. He also discusses hiplife as a way to boost Ghana's international musical reputation. He truly believes that without his indigenized production style, hiplife would be lost and without a clear future.

11/19/04 at Hush Hush Studios

I arrive around 6:30pm to meet J-Que (Jeff Quaye) and find him in the studio, working with a reggae singer. He says hi quickly and tells me to sit down and wait a few minutes. He works through Pro Tools briskly and takes care of the finishing touches on the track he’s working on.

I am surprised when I meet J-Que because I imagined him to be bigger and maybe more “hip-hop”-looking. I later learned that this expectation is common. J-Que is actually smallish, clean cut, and rather looks like an average dude. You could easily mistake him for someone else on the street. But once he began talking, I could see that he had a kind energy. One that made it easy to listen to him speak.

J-Que takes me to a different, smaller room where there is a girl (hiplife artist, Mzbel) watching TV. We kick her out and sit down to talk. He seems comfortable and confident, dressed smart but simple.

So, why, with your extensive musical background, do you do hiplife?

I mostly do hiplife music because that is what the public are into, the Ghanaians like it now and I have done hip-hop way back and stuff, but I don’t do those things any more. I don’t want to play hip-hop, I don’t want to play reggae. The reason being that, you know, when I am working, when I come to the studio to work with a client and the client sings to me and I listen to what the client is singing, I always make sure that every beat I produce have a representation of our national flag in it. That is me. Every beat I put out should represent Ghana, if not, it should have some Ghanaian feel to it.

So, if you listen to the music I do, if I am playing ragga or whatever, I have my congas and my shakers and my cowbells. These things are from Africa, these things are indigenous instruments that we have here in Africa. Every beat that I do I make sure that I have the national flag of Ghana in mind. And the reason why I do that is I also realized that most Ghanaians, you know, in Ghana, our music is not going international. People are just getting to hear about hiplife.

Now one reason, my point of view, the reason why it is not going international: In Ghana here, Ghana is a small country, but everybody’s playing all kinds of music here in Ghana. You have people playing reggae, you have people playing hip-hop, some people are even playing jazz, you have rock, you have all these things here in Ghana. But if you look outside Ghana, like Jamaica, if you go to Jamaica, if they are not playing reggae, they are playing dancehall. That is what everybody plays. If everybody decides to play his national music, that is the only way our music can go international. You know, but then, if you are in your country, you have your traditional and cultural music and you are playing somebody’s music, there is no way your music can go far. So the reason why I am playing this jama or like introducing this thing is that that is the only way I think we can have our music represented in the international showbiz market. If Ghanaians doing hiplife, gospel everybody decides to play their own form of music rather than gospel or hip-hop. Because you know you can’t play hip-hop more than Dr. Dre or Timbaland. No way you can do that. Assuming there is a world music festival, Ghanaians are there, Americans are there, Jamaicans are there, and somebody comes from American everybody expects them to do hip-hop or R&B or something, from Jamaica you know reggae or dancehall, the moment they call Ghana Africa, they are coming to play something cultural, you know, something that represents Africa…

… I am one of the guys who’s sustaining our culture, who is holding our culture, who is keeping it going. So if I also decide to leave and the rest of the guys decide to play hip-hop and things, then what has Ghana got [inaudible], it has got nothing. So, I researched more into instruments that [are from] Africa, that are made from Africa. I have researched more into those instruments. There are instruments sometimes when I research I haven’t seen them before, I don’t even how they sound. So, I want to go on vacation, when I go on vacation, I’ll go to places in Africa. I see instruments that I don’t even know how they sound, to go sample them, bring them to my studio, edit it and then use them in my production. If you listen to every track that I produce, you know, in Ghana here when they hear a track they want to know it’s me. The moment you hear the conga, you should know this is J-Que. I have it in all my tracks…I also have my name in almost all my tracks…

What about the future of hiplife?

I think hiplife really has a future. If they see it the way I am seeing it. If not kpanlogo, you know, Ghana we have highlife, the Northerners have their music, you know, we have various forms of traditional music in Ghana. If hiplife would be played based on the Ghanaian cultural way, a little, you know, like 20% hip-hop and then the 80% would be dominated on our traditional music, then hiplife will really go very, very far. But then if we don’t play it like that—you know, it would surprise you that I have a lot of enemies and player-haters because of the style I have introduced. Because of the style I am playing, most of the hiplife guys you know, they are thinking-- You know, hiplife started with hip-hop. When we started playing hiplife we were playing it in the form of hip-hop, we look onto the hip-hop beats. Sometimes we sampled the same beat and made them sing onto it. You know, because of the rap, we were looking more into the hip-hop vein. Because of the rap they were doing in Twi. So we looked at the rap they did and we supplied the same kind of beat, which was wrong, which was very, very, very, it was wrong koraa [Twi = at all, totally]. But we didn’t know, we didn’t know at all. You know, some people, because of what I have introduced, they don’t even want to see my face. People go on radio, they diss me, they insult me. This guy has changed the trend. This guy is not doing hiplife anymore. Hiplife is now on another level, they don’t like it. We want this way. But that is wrong, that is wrong at all. So, you know, if we play it the hip-hop way, we don’t have a future. But then if we play it in our own traditional form of music, that is the only way we can go far.

So then you now see hiplife as something quite distinct musically?

…Someone told me that I am the first guy who has given identity to hiplife. You know, hiplife is now different. It has an identity. Most people don’t know, but what I am doing is I am giving identity to it. So, you can really differentiate hiplife from hip-hop. You know, they are all rapping. Rap is rap, whether you rap in Twi, whether you happen to rap in English. But then, the rhythm behind it. You know, for the Americans, they play the hip-hop. For us, for it to look like us, we have to play our cultural music. It could be highlife, it could be the jama that I have introduced, it could be adowa, it could be anything. Then we can really say that this is distinct, this is different from—but now hiplife is different for me, to me hiplife-- I can say that hiplife has a future. Because now, if you listen to radio, I don’t know if you listen to radio, if you listen to when they play highlife, they shift to hiplife, 80% of the songs they play are my productions. Which means that hiplife has a future.

Look at all these guys outside [the studio, Hush Hush], everybody here wants to come and work. I am even closing at 10 and they know I am closing at 10, but they all have a hope that at least I will spend 30 minutes with them. You know, Hush Hush here, we run three sessions a day. We work 6[AM] to 2[PM]. That is the morning session. Then the afternoon session is 2 to 10. And then, the night session is 10[PM] to 6[AM]. If I work everyday, and then, most days I work two sessions every day. Because of my work—you wouldn’t believe it. As of now, I am working with almost every artist in Ghana. Most of the guys-- I have to release 35 artistes before Christmas. You wouldn’t believe it. I can’t sleep. I am always here. I spend all of my time here in Hush Hush. When I get home the only thing I can do is sleep. Formerly I was working on weekends, but this time I have stopped working on Saturdays and Sundays because the workload is just too much. So this should tell you that hiplife is really getting somewhere.

And the guys--I have also realized, with the introduction of jama and kpanlogo that I am playing, people like it, so they all want to come, come and work. Even tracks that are hitting on the market that I didn’t play, it’s jama, if you don’t play it the way I play it, there is no way they will accept it. “Konkontiba” [Obour’s smash hit last year]. Most people think I did it, but I am not the one who did “Konkontiba.” I like the engineer who worked on it because he is very good. If he had played it in any other vein…Morris Babyface, he won last year’s engineer of the year. Last year he won. If he had played it in any other way, it wouldn’t hit.

There’s one style that I am introducing now, I want to talk a little about it. What I realized is, if you look at our movies, if you study the movies, I realize that the Nigerian movies have taken over our industry. We don’t have any good Ghanaian movies to boast of and to match the Nigerians. So, if we are not careful, their music too will come and take over our music. So I listened a little to Nigerian music and, you know, I said, “No, there is a way I can fuse hiplife with their form of music.” So, I have also introduced that style, and that is like Afro-Pop. I have introduced that one. So if you listen to what I did for Obour, “Shine Your Eye,” featured a Nigerian, Baba Ashanti. If you listen to that track, you’ll realize that track’s different from what I have been doing. I also did the same style for Dr. Poh, he’s a new artist. The song is “Na Hu Ko Sa.” And it’s doing well in Nigeria. I also realized I am introducing this too. So that before their music also comes to take over, no we have it already mixed with ours. There’s no way they can take over our music industry. Our songs are doing well. The Obour song like this is doing well in Lagos.

I did the remix for Tic Tac, the one he did with Tony Tetuila. Ghanaians now they are getting to understand the remixes, you know remixes is not usual of we Ghanaians. But then remixes got popular because—you know, some people go and record their music some way. I don’t have any problem with—I like –I really recommend that if an artist is coming to work, he works with more than one engineer, at least have different flavor on your album. J-Que does a little, Hammer does a little, Morris, Zapp… You know, what happens is, sometimes, they record their hits from other engineers. They will realize that when their song comes on the market, then the song doesn’t do well. They will be tempted to bring it to me to do a remix. Basically now, I am doing lots of remixes. You know I have lots of remixes from other engineers that produced it. And I am proud to say that I don’t produce a track and it will go to another engineer for a remix. That has never happened, it will never happen. What I say when I go on TV, the other engineers should buck up, they should also do their work very well. Because there’s no way that I will work for someone else to bring it to correct it. They should also make that when they are working, nobody should bring their work to me. For remixes, I charge more. The song is already spoiled. You have to do more than what the person did originally. So for remixes you have to work harder than-- if it is a new song, you don’t have any challenge. You just do your thing. You know, but then if it is not a new song and its been done already, it’s done good, you have to improve on it you have to work double. So for remixes I take almost twice the money I take for original songs. That is about that one too.

Did the youth in Ghana have no voice before Reggie Rockstone came in ‘94?

Before Reggie came, you know, hiplife, people were doing hiplife. The boys were doing that, but then, nobody had taken the risk to come out with hiplife. So nobody wanted to come out—what they were doing was, when you go to shows, you see the people rap, they’re on the stage rapping, singing, and stuff. No people were singing before Reggie came out with hiplife. That is a mistake he is doing. There are some guys here, they don’t even have producers, they don’t have demos, but they can really sing, they come and sit here every day hoping that somebody will talk to them to ask them, “Are you a singer?” And if you put these guys behind a microphone, you’d be surprised to hear what they can do, they can really sing. But the fact that they don’t have platforms to show it doesn’t mean, you know-- so if Reggie made that statement I think he’s wrong because there are people who are really doing this thing are I know some people who had demos when Reggie came out they still have their demos, they’ve not secured producers, they’ve not secured producers. In hiplife what we see—the introduction of the new artists, it’s more, you hear more of the new artists coming out than the old artists. We always have new artists, new artists, they are always flooding the market. I think they are also doing well…right now competition is really healthy because if you think you the big boy, you have four albums, and you sit home and—trust me, where is [Lord] Kenya now, where is Reggie, where are these people now? There is this group, they’ve really maintained their stance, Buk Bak, you know? They have their fifth album on the market and they have always maintained their stance. Obrafour has always maintained his stance. VIP, when I worked with them on their first album. After their first album, they were working with other engineers and nobody heard of them. It was when they came back with the one I just did…the guys if you are not careful they will just over take you like that…look at Batman, Batman is a new artist, Madfish is a new artist.

So what is the music scene doing for the youth?

Music now is really helping the youth. Because you know in Ghana, most of the people don’t have money to continue their education. Some of them don’t even have an education background at all. Most of them see hiplife (laughs), or the music scene, as a venture for them to easily make it. If you call a shoeshine boy and you chat with him: “So why are you doing this thing?” “Oh, I want to save money to go and record with J-Que.” When you talk to these ice water boys: “What are you doing?” “Oh, I want to go and record.” They come to me. Sometimes we charge them. Ok, let’s say, this is thousand, I am taking thousand cedis. I have hundred cedis, keep it for me. They will go they, will come, they will go, they will come. Yes, that is what they do. Until they have their thousand and then they will definitely come and do it.

The reason why this is happening, you know, in Ghana now, the executive producers, they don’t go to the studio with the artists to record them, they buy the music. So if you are an artist, you have to record your own music. That is what happens in Ghana now. You have to record your own music. Mastered, not demo, before he would listen, for him to produce the secondary. For him to listen to your song you need to have your master. All the guys you see here, they are guys who are trying to record their master by themselves. So I think the music scene has created some kind of job opportunity for the youth, in fact a lot of the youth now are into hiplife. If you look at hiplife, almost all the guys are youths.

What if you spend all your savings on a recording and find no producer?

That is the problem. Some people have had their master. You know all the figures are not the same. Some people have luck following them. Some people will just come, they will do a song, they will take it out, and they will get a producer to come and finish the rest. Some people will do a master and they won’t find anybody to come. For that one it happens, people have master recorded--I think even in America that happens...

This Guy Makes Some Fine Points (Thanks GhanaMusic.com)

2006-02-22T22:56:00.000-06:00

This letter by a regular dude goes to show just how far hiplife (and the Ghanaiam music industry in general) has to go before people are happy.

[I found this article and lot of other timely, relatively accurate info from GhanaMusic.com, by far the best website about Ghanaian music imaginable. The guys who run it are pretty chill too.]

Right now, no one seems to be happy. Not the musicians, not the producers, not the fans, not even the radio DJs (who are probably making the most money out of the whole movement).

MUSIGA, Ghana's musicians' union, and a few other musician/artist groups, have suffered from power struggles, in-fighting, and corruption, not to mention the lack of a solid plan on how to deal with hiplife. After all, a great many of the union's members are traditional, highlife, gospel, and reggae musicians. Few hiplifers are involved. But this is changing to some extent, as some of the bigger names' managers and producers are connected to the larger network of powers in the industry who makes sure things basically remain the same. There are some less-than-transparent processes involving royalties collection and distribution. Let's just leave it at that for now...

Maybe just one example, if you like.

Payola, which is money paid to DJs to spin your music, is commonly noted as being a central factor crippling the industry. The letter linked above basically gets to the point: there's something serious flawed with the system of how music gets heard in Ghana, and this ultimately affects the quality of the music. If people pay the DJ to play sub-par music, people will get used to the music and eventually create music like it in hopes of also being heard.

Some people in the industry were also complaining that the top stars have become lazy and complacent. They know they can put out a certain level of record and it will "hit," so they rarely attempt to take things further, musically or conceptually. They will usually get paid a pre-determined amount by their executive producer for the rights of the recording outright.

This is clearly happening in some cases. How else to explain the relatively shallow slope of improvement in production over the past years? They should have tons of money from the record CDs they claim to sell and big shows they play outside of Ghana. Hey, I thought all those big guys (Obour, VIP, Tic Tac) were loaded with cash?!

Not the case...More on that soon to come.

Dusty, Heavily Islamic Northern Ghana: Hip-Hop Up There?

2006-02-20T08:11:00.000-06:00

Ghana is a big country. Well, it's actually not that big (it's only about the size of Pennsylvania or Oregon), but it has a whole lot of distinct regional flavors for sure. Most of the music discussed on The Hiplife Complex comes from the southern third of the country. Most of the major cities are there, down by the coast in most cases. But what about the rest? What does life sound like up there in the North?

Things are quite different in Northern Ghana. The air is dry. It's usually quite hot. And, the landscape is sparsely occupied by a mix of scrawny trees, fields of yams, which are individually planted in little conical mounds, and round houses built sporadically in clustered compounds. Northern Ghana is home to most of the country's Muslims. Linguistically and culturally, this part of the country has more in common with Burkina Faso and Southern Mali. But, thanks to Africa's colonial legacy, this region belongs to Ghana, and therefore reflects an enormous amount of Ghanaianness, no matter how you cut it.

Not surprisingly, there's enough localized hip-hop, hiplife, and reggae up there to warrant a full investigation. So that's what I did. Beginning with my first foray into the North in 2002, a larger town called Tamale to be exact, I made friends with a whole crew of musicians and artists. Intertwining the sounds and styles of Greater Ghana eminating from urban centers Accra and Kumasi (located 8 and 12 hours down the road respectively) with the long-standing sensibilities distinctive of their Sahel-side region, these artists are consciously creative whilst lying at the fringe of Ghana's commercial music industry. Although some of Tamale's musicians have numerous albums to their credit, pack clubs around the region, and can be heard on all the radio stations in the area, the vast majority of their songs have never been heard (much less heard of) by the rest of Ghana.

Why the separation between Northern and Southern music/musicians?

It's a long story that I certainly don't have down pat, but, for starters, the British underdeveloped that part of the territory from the very beginning of colonialism. While the area beginning at the coast to just north of Kumasi (more or less the center of Ghana) was valuable in terms of resources like gold, bauxite, and timber, the dusty North was not a big concern. While the south became peppered with churches and schools and railways and roads, the North was left to itself. Islam took hold and long-standing socio-linguistic closeness to peoples of Burkina, Mali, and Togo kept Northern Ghanaians in a completely different bag, creatively and aesthetically. It was only later, as Ghana built up nationalistic steam during the post-independence period of the late-50s and early 1960s, that northern towns like Tamale, Bolgatanga, and Wa were reallyincluded in the new and diverse identity of Africa's first post-colonial nation-state.

Once Ghana had galvanized as a country, cultural and artistic concepts from the populous southern ethnic groups like the Asante and Ewe became dominant. So, Northerners heard highlife music from early on. They saw concert parties perform in remote Northern villages, as groups from Accra and Kumasi would travel far for audiences in those days. But the people of the three Northern regions (part of Ghana's 10 region system) had their own performance genres and traditions, not mention languages, religious practices, and family systems. At the time, Northerners (I use "Northerners" for expediency's sake, there are many distinct groups in the North) were creating and consuming a vast pallate of praise music, traditional dances, and even their own interpretations of popular highlife and foreign styles. Through Ghana Broadcasting Corporation, founded in 1935, everyone in Ghana theoretically had access to the same sounds. Of course, for people in the rural north, where there were few radios, there was less contact with cosmopolitan musical movements.

The first cassette release to include rap in Dagbani, the North's most commonly-spoken language, was a track on Sirina Issa's debut Cheer The Stars. The "Godfather" of Dagbani-language rap is Big Adams. Adams was only a kid when he was featured on Issah's incredibly surreal-sounding ode to Ghana's national football (soccer) team, the Black Stars. To me, this album is nothing short of genius. Primitive beats that are at once funky and cute, along with Sirina's almost grating vocals, make for a singular experience. Backing vocals by a ragtag cast of basically neighborhood kids make it sound like "outsider" music by people obsessed with early Prince and Stacy Q.

Considering how new to Northern ears these kinds of sounds were at the time, this recording is important. Down South, they'd been releasing plenty of records with hip, electronic beats for a long time, but the lyrics were almost always in Twi. With Cheer The Stars, Issah invented a new landscape for music in Tamale. This album was a hit up there, with the track featuring this new vernacular rapping hitting particularly hard. Recorded in 1993, released in 1994, people had been hearing rap in Twi for a few years now, here and there. But, for the youth of Tamale, rap in Dagbani was novel.

Below is the cassette cover, complete with spelling errors and amazing cut and paste design:

Big Adams evenutally put out his own debut on North Side Records a few years later. Nicknamed "Da Microhpone Prophet," Big Adams's name is unanimously invoked when discussing the roots of hiplife in the North. His album, entitled Asalamu-Alaakum, made clear the distinct identity he wanted for rap from the North (the phrase is a greeting used across the Muslim world).

This is the cover of Big Adams' first full-length. Note the Northern-style cloth, Muslim cap and prayer pose:

Big Adams today:

Watch a snippet of my interview with Big Adams, "Da Microphone Prophet"

The music stressed the melismatic vocal style found across the Sahel, something that brings closer to mind faraway Morocco or Egypt more than the predominately Christian Southern Ghana. Musically, Big Adams and his colleagues created a sound that blends equal parts higlife, indigneous praise singing (which utilize hourglass-shaped tension drums played under the arm with one hand), and Bollywood.

Why Bollywood? If you take a walk around any market in Northern Ghana, or Burkina or Mali for that matter, you'll find a good number of Bollywood videos and CDs for sale. For some reason, Bollywood has made headway in this unlikeliest of areas, where it is not uncommon get in a taxi or sit in a restaurant and listen to/watch Bollywood music/movies. Few in the South have interest in Bollywood, making this aspect of Northern hiplife a particularly unique element.

Again, the musical sensibilities relate more to the music of Mali and Burkina Faso, than of what you may hear on national radio. But, since radio became privatized throughout Ghana in the mid-1990s, Tamale-based stations promoted the new Northern hiplife songs. This music would never be heard or appreciated in the South, except in the handful of urban slums in Accra and Kumasi inhabited by Northerners.

More on all this to come...

Check out this article on Northern Music Awards in Tamale last December

To Whom It May Concern, Hiplife Kinda Sucks...

2006-01-07T23:59:00.000-06:00

People I met in Ghana, after listening to me explain what I was up to, often voiced concerns and opinions about the hiplife movement. If I wasn't hearing it from someone sitting next to me on the bus, I was getting complaints through the media: on the TV news reports; on the radio talk shows; in many of the magazines; basically, all over town I'd hear people discussing hiplife music, hiplifer youth, and the lyrics of the controversial song of the moment. Often you find a letter-to-the-editor like this one. This guy is worried about profanity in hiplife lyrics and its effect on Ghanaian youth. He gives us a laundry list of hiplife's good and bad contributions to society, making many of the statments I heard repeatedly from a variety of players in the industry. I also found regular, everyday people I discussed hiplife with often had passionate opinions on hiplife. Many I spoke with tended toward similar conclusions to that of this gentleman (despite most of them dancing to hiplife with the rest at funerals, engagements and other events featuring a DJ and sound system).

Sometimes I wonder how much of what I heard in my interviews were accepted lore and how much is actual independently though-out conclusions made by the individual. Probably a combination of the two since Ghanaians, like the rest of us, are confronted with mass media, and its embedded conclusions, at every turn.

Also, this guy, Maximus Ojah, writes great op-ed pieces in the various Ghanaian newspapers and online magazines. Here he is with some entertaining and insightful thoughts on hiplife in Ghana. This guy's writing is great. I love how he incorporates Ghanaian slang into his pieces while retaining an illustrative, articulate approach. In case you're wondering, the 'Osagyefo" he keeps addressing in his columns is none other than Ghana's founding father, Kwame Nkrumah. Osagyefo means "victorious leader".

Hush Hush Studios

2005-12-29T13:40:00.000-06:00

At the time of my research, Hush Hush was one of the most important recording studios in Ghana. Located a stone's throw from Ghana's largest cemetary, most of the hits have been recorded there. Hush Hush is also the place to meet other rappers, producers, engineers, and industry folks. I spent a lot of time hanging out there. While I was in Ghana, there were basically four resident producers (known as “engineers” or “programmers” in Ghana’s slightly-warped musical terminology) at Hush Hush. These guys occupied two studios, each equipped with a Mac desktop or two, as well as the synths and various decks and mixers you’d expect in any professional studio. Though not the fanciest set-up in Ghana, Hush Hush turns out relative quality.

These four producers that use Hush Hush 24 hours a day (in 8 hour shifts) are no doubt some of the most influential beat-makers in Ghana. The studio itself is well-known regionally. People come from all over West Africa to record at Hush Hush, often with one of the resident engineers at the helm. Numerous other engineers from around town end up working at Hush Hush, since the studio is occasionally rented out. There is also a video-editing facility and record label on the premises.

Studio manager, and producer of fiesty female hiplifer Mzbel, Mr. Danny Adjei has much to say about Hush Hush's role in the hiplife movement. Listen to an interview with him here.

Or, read the transcript.

Hammer (of the Last Two) is one the pillars of Ghanaian hiplife. His signature groove, which has rocked hiplife since its debut ca. 1999 on Obrafuor’s legendary release Pae Mu Ka, has been copied by legions of budding producers looking for a more aggressive beat. Noticeably faster than Western hip-hop beats, it is still recognized as hiplife’s closest analogue to Western-style hip-hop. With the release of two compilations featuring underground unknowns blessing his deep productions, Hammer has helped grow a new generation of hardcore rappers. Guys like Okra, Kwaw Kesse, and Agbekor are keeping Reggie's dream of a more hip-hop-oriented hiplife alive. Though not nearly as prolific as his colleagues, Hammer is responsible for quite a few major hits by people like Tinny, as well as the above-mentioned artists.

At the other end of mainstream hiplife’s aesthetic spectrum lies J-Que. Classically trained pianist Jeff Quaye has been hailed as the one to almost single-handedly indigenize hiplife—his jama (or dzama) beat is fast and extremely danceable in all its unashamed electro glory. The dense rhythms heard at football matches, funerals, and other social and spiritual occasions are filtered through drum machines and ProTools, casting so-called culture music with a very post-highlife and over-the-top, yet often sublime, digital sheen. J-Que works day and night at Hush Hush making beats for everyone from no one start-ups to the very cream of hiplife celebs. No night out in Ghana would be neither complete nor, dare I say, possible without the rhythms of J-Que.

UPDATE: J-Que is now associated with a new studio in Accra. After several months of dramatic rows with the administration at Hush Hush, J-Que has moved on to Rich Studios. See what the producer has to say about the new location and his upcoming compilation.

Less-famous, but no less talented, is beat-maestro Agyingo. Well-versed in both piano and traditional drumming, Agyingo’s music is by far the most imaginative of the music that comes out of Hush Hush. At once, Agyingo's visions clash Bollywood-like pep with hot, layered rhythms. Although his music tends to be quite rhythmic, Agyingo has a keen sense of melody as well. He is also a master of disguise. With his knowledge of the Mac workstation at the Hush Hush Annex, Agyingo can make a beat to sound like any of the well-unknown beat-makers in America. Utilizing a vast array of samples and sounds, Agyingo can sound like anyone he wants. I spent several hours watching him make beats for a couple different clients. He listens to the vocal hook and slowly builds complex, layers of Ghanaian rhythms and hip-hop harmony. He is brilliant and fucking hilarious.

Last but not least, and perhaps the longest-term resident engineer at Hush Hush, is King Cyrus. With hits all over the radio, Cyrus is probably considered the no. 3 programmer in Ghana. As with J-Que, King Cyrus inserts a signature sample at the beginning of each track he does. These guys are both known for this,, though it seems J-Que was the first guy to be doing this. Some peope think it is stupid because it is the rapper who should be giving a shout-out to his engineer if he feels like it, not the engineer himself. In any case, when you hear an echo-y voice sort of shout “King Cyrus!”, you know you are in for some sweet highlife-informed grooves. King Cyrus is not interested in taking musical chances, but he knows what he is doing when it comes to making solid, if not catchy, accompaniments to an endless parade of hiplife, highlife, reggae, and gospel artists.

All four of these guys are great and helped me a lot in trying to understand the musical motives of hiplife. Since most rappers take little to no part in the composition of the actual music in hipilfe, it was vital that I pick these guys’ brains.

Here is an excerpt from a conversation I had with King Cyrus one day between sessions at the Hush Hush Annex, located just paces away from incredible Awudome Cemetary (people dig up bones and smoke a lot of weed back there):

Why do people in Ghana like hiplife?

Because in Ghana we like dancing, and when the song is rhythmical, like people can dance towards the rhythm, then they just like it. Some people don’t listen to the lyrics. They just dance towards the beat, that’s all.

What about the lyrics?

Yeah, the lyrics too—we have two different people that listen to music: we have the elderly people and the young people. Young people normally don’t listen to the lyrics. They just dance to the rhythm. But elderly people expect to hear some words, what you are saying.

Why?

It’s like that, you know. Elderly people normally don’t dance to the rhythm. Normally, they will just sit down and listen to what you are saying. But the youth, when you listen to the song you just dance to the rhythm the rhythm is coming you just dance it. Some of them don’t even know what you are saying. They just dance to the rhythm then going.

What about how some people say hiplife lyrics are profane?

Yeah, most of the hiplife lyrics are profane. And some too are very sensible. Especially Obrafuor sings very sensible words whenever he comes out. Many people, so even the elderly people like him. Elderly people like Obrafuor because, many elderly people buy his tracks and then listen to him. And some other guys too. Some other guys too come with the profane words and other things too. (laughs)

Does that offend you?

Umm, actually, some of the words are, it’s hard for you to listen to it. but it’s part of my job, when you come with the profane words, I will advise you. I’m also a religious person so I know something about god. And in my religion, or in the bible it says every word that comes out of your mouth you are going to account for it in future, or it affects our own life in future. So if you come and you say something that affects somebody or causes somebody to commit sin, I will advise you to modify it or do something about it so that it doesn’t have affect on some people. For instance you talk about sex, people who don’t have a deep mind, they will think about sex and it will cause them to commit themselves into that thing. For that reason you did not help the people, you know, he didn’t help them. Because of songs some people have desire to test sex. It means you didn’t help them. You understand, I will advise you about the way you put your words to the song. I did this woman’s song, this lady who is standing here (sings the melody) and in the beginning the words were very very profane, but I advised her to so that people would not be affected by her songs and other things.

By people affected you mean the youth?

Yeah, the youth, yeah. You know, profane, I know something about profane, when people are talking about sex some elderly people will take in such a way that it will help them, but young people also will not take it in such a way that will not help them, you understand me. Maybe you have not reached a standard of having an affair with a lady but you are listening to that song but you have the desire. But if I am a standard, I am about to marry, I’m in that standard, it will help me to understand. That is all about music (laughs)…you have to do it in such a way that it is neutral.

What is hiplife doing for the youth in Ghana?

It makes money for the musicians and it makes money for the nation. Socially, some of them are helping people to live right life. And some of them are also corrupting people. It depends (laughs).

Obour: Ne Ho Ye Hu Hu Hu Hu

2005-11-21T16:40:00.000-06:00

I met Obour on several occasions while in Ghana. For a time, I knew him when he was living in Commonwealth Hall at University of Ghana, Legon. So far he is the only hiplife artist in the public spotlight that's got a university degree.

Obour is huge, simply put. A couple years ago he embarked on a nationwide tour, which no hiplifer had done before. He launched a quality website, also a first for Ghana's rappers. Now Obour is bringing the live band into hiplife for arguably the first time. There is a belief that having a backing band, as opposed to a sequenced electronic groove, would help hiplife gain international recognition. After sweeping the Ghana Music Awards this year, Obour is firmly placed at or near the top of commercial hiplife in Ghana right now.

Click here or on the post title above to check out Obour's unparalleled website.

I mentioned a song in a previous post about a tadpole causing a huge raucous among the public and media. This song, "Konkontibaa" by Obour, simply observes that although young now the tadpole will grow up to big and strong like its mother one day. Through a series of clever metaphors and proverbial speech, Obour weaves a more than five minute impression which parallels plenty of sexual allusions, most of which relate to older men going after young girls. While this phenomenon is well-known and discussions on the issue in the media abound. Why did/do people make such a big deal out of a song that may or may not be "profane."

When asked, Obour usually denies that the song is glorifying, or even mentioning, chasing teenage girls. The fact of the matter is, the lyrics are so complex and subtle that most listeners would not realize just how bad they were until they really sat down examined them. It took me and a Ghanaian friend more than three hours to decipher the words and put them into a semi-intelligible English translation. Even then, the potency of Obour's allusions and proverbs were lost in translation. At the end of it all my friend could only exclaim in an almost surprised tone, "It's profane, it's very profane!"

I would reproduce the translation here, but it still needs a lot more work. Hopefully in the near future...

Here are my notes about my first meeting with Obour. After the notes is a bit of the transcript of our discussion. Obour talks about how he got into music, why hip-hop is so important to Ghanaian youth, and what his music is all about. He also sheds some light on what is going to be an ongoing issue on this blog: How are hiplife and hiphop are perceived by different levels of society, and why?

02/11/04

Obour-Commonwealth Hall Room A10, 9:30 am

I knock twice and wait. Is he going to be here, or did I come all this way for nothing (again)? Last week I came at around 10 am and stayed for three hours with Roro, Obour’s personal assistant, watching Kill Bill, drinking Coke, and chatting in Obour’s room. I met his roommates and realized he is just a regular guy having fun at school.

This time is different, I can hear someone moving inside. After a couple minutes, Obour comes to the door in his boxers. He said I didn’t wake him up and that I can come in. A cute girl emerges quietly, regally from the back room. Obour (short, stout, dreads, smiling) welcomes me and seems quite relaxed despite having been interrupted. I try to make a good impression.

The dorm room is small with an attached room that’s even smaller, which is where Roro stays. Roro is taking a year off from school to work with Obour. He is basically a good friend who helps keep the public a certain distance from Obour when necessary. He answers the phone and organizes appointments for Obour.

The room is hot, so I begin to sweat. No one seems to care or notice because despite there being two fans within view, no one turns them on. I am used to people in Ghana pandering to my every need, but these guys aren't like that.

Obour is studying music and sociology. He says he has one year left. The reason he says he didn’t show up last week for our agreed meeting time is that he had a make-up lecture. Obour’s been working a lot playing shows and making appearances, so he has been missing some classes.

When did you start with music?

Most people would say from birth actually, yeah, because yeah, from childhood I used to sing at church and everything. Music as a profession really got into me around ‘99, that’s when I started recording albums actually.

So you recorded your first album in ’99?

Yeah.

And is that one still around?

Yeah, it’s still around. And, I mean, it’s what brought me to the game actually. It has a local slang that goes like, Obour, …, it means fiercesome one.

And what does Obour mean?

Stone. That’s the literal meaning. Stone, like a hard one.

So what about rap, your first album that you put out was hiplife?

Yeah, it was hiplife, because that was the trend then. Hiplife was what was going on. Actually, we all used to do music, then in Ghana the type of music that was going on was raga. That was the good days of [groups]... That was the trend of the day, everywhere you go that was what was going on. But when hiplife took off, when we started doing our own thing in Twi, then the first time somebody got that on record and started selling it. [inaudible] this could be a profession, this could be something we could do then all the guys then it was myself, the Ex-Doe's, the VIP's, the Nananom's. This is like ’96 thereabout. Then we were like, “Charlie, we can really do something with this business, we can do something. Then I was at secondary [school] so I couldn’t do much, but when I passed out of secondary in ’99, then I recorded my album.

As far as hiphop, I mean, how did you get into hiphop in the first place?

I feel like when you give up the talent, I mean, sometimes I write songs and gospel music comes up. But it’s to do more with where you think the interest lies the most. I mean, for gospel music I feel like one day I might do a—but mostly I do gospel songs on my album. Every album that I have there’s a gospel song, there’s a song dedicated to God on the album. And I feel in my own small way, I’m more talented in the hiplife field, that is, talking deep Twi and [inaudible] more than I am in gospel or in hiphop or whatever…

Why is hiplife so popular in Ghana?

I think it’s because the youth is upholding it, I mean, it’s the youth that keeps everything happening wherever you are. If something is happening and it doesn’t have the backing of the youth, I feel it is really difficult to implement because it’s the same youth who demonstrate, who do all that. Hiplife has the full support of the youth, so I think that is why hiplife is so popular now.

Why do you support it, personally?

I felt at least finally we were getting something of our own that had a light of internationalism, so it's something that could register Ghanaian music somewhere on the globe. So why not give it all the support?

Before Reggie Rockstone the youth had no voice?

Yeah, it’s true.

Can you talk about that?

Yeah, I mean, then it was more of the highlife type of music and all that the youth used to do in life was hiphop. I mean, Tupac, yeah, Snoop Doggy…that was the voice of the youth then, now we have a voice of our own. I felt we needed it. We all needed it. We were all looking for the way to really break into the scenes of Ghanaian music. It was highlife, [Daddy] Lumba, Kojo Antwi, that’s all it was about. But when we all got it, and everybody was making an effort. And finally, the first effort Reggie Rockstone made created a big impact. We were like, “Wow, the door’s open now let’s all enter”…

I guess Snoop’s not talking about things that really matter here (in Ghana)…So, what do you talk about in your songs?

Hiplife takes trends, actually, it depends on the musician. Personally, me, I talk on diverse issues, I mean, sometimes on an album you can have me talking about maybe six or ten issues. A typical Obour album will definitely have maybe about two songs that are of Ghanaian originality. I may take one of the cultures of Ghana, should it be maybe the Akans or the Fantes, and do a song typically on that culture. That’s one song you would find on a typical Obour album. Then you definitely find a song that talks about life at that particular point. If it’s stressful, I talk about it being stressful; if it’s getting better, I will talk about it getting better. I mean it’s a little political actually. And then you will have me talking about love per se. What is going on in my love life, I might relate it to everybody. And then, I will also have something that talks about the the Black, the Black African. I mean, my perception about the Black. Every album, you get me talking about something about the Black. If witchcraft is what is worrying us, I’ll say it; if it’s the color that’s worrying us, I’ll say it; if it’s the perception that we don’t like to go to school and all, I’ll say it, I mean. So, that’s how a typical Obour album looks like, I touch on diverse issues.

So how do people seem to respond to these things? Do they find it controversial?

Yeah, most of my songs, they think are controversial, but, yo, if you don’t get controversial, you don’t get people talking about you. Most people think I am controversial. I talk on issues that the pastors might be afraid to talk about. I mean, even the issues that the politicians and ministers won’t want to talk about. You get me touching on them. Quite recently I released a song that people are really taking their own type of motive for it. It’s more like, what is going on these days. What I see around me, is what I talk about. These days in Ghana, I see old men going after young girls. And I felt I should talk about it, and I just talked about. And it’s really making a little impact.

That is why it’s music, actually, because I will always leave it to the public to define it. My own meaning to that song, if I should tell what motivated me to even do that song, you might not have an idea. But it’s good when people hear songs and they create their own impressions. I mean, that’s why it should be music. I fit into the music in this way. I feel I am young and I will still grow, so I should do it; I feel I am old and I like young girls. I mean, that’s it. Everybody fits into it the way he or she wants to fit in…

What about the youth’s use of hiphop culture?

That is more copying what hiphop is like. Hiplife, in a way, from the founding fathers, they took inspiration from hiphop. So indirectly, hiplife takes bits and pieces of hiphop culture. So hiplife is kind of basically, what the founding fathers see it is like hiphop, given a different name, because it is written in a different tongue back home. I mean, that’s all it is about. So whatever hiphoppers do—apart from the Ghanaian culture does not allow any Ghanaian to be using swear words and talking deep, deep trash and profanity and sexually suggestive lyrics and all. I mean, maybe in hiphop you can just sing a song like [sings a bit of Salt n Pepa's “Let’s Talk About Sex”]. But in Ghana, you can’t go like that because the code of ethics and morals doesn’t allow it. So maybe those are the portions of hiphop that we are leaving behind. I mean, hiphop you can get a fellow brother pulling a gun, shooting at one another. But in hiplife you wouldn’t get that also because the morals of the Ghanaian society doesn’t allow that. But the other portion, that is the fashion of hiphop, I think hiplife also takes to the fashion. The way that in hiphop you don’t get them playing live band. And that is what happens in hiplife as well, you don’t play live band. They play their beat and they toast, they DJ, they breakdance…it’s all pieces of hiphop that hiplife has [inaudible].

What about the music itself?

When hiplife came up at first, it had stolen the beat rhythm of hiphop. But I think in the first or two years, it started taking a different phase. I think I was one of the contributing factors of making the thing change in a way, When hiplife took off, it was more like hiphop beat, with a Twi or with a local dialect. That was how hiplife took off. And then, the old folks in Ghana were more used to the highlife rhythms actually. So, that’s why they weren't giving hiplife the support. “What type of music is this? I mean, you’re singing white music, I mean white rhythms, and,you’re just singing in Twi.” They weren’t giving hiplife the support.

When a few hiplife musicians decided to take the rhythms of the local people, take highlife rhythms, use the hiphop culture on it, ride on the rhythm like you would have ridden on it if it was a hiphop beat, and see how it turns out to be. And when we did it like that, at least then the older folks also saw more it like what was of their own. At least it’s just like they played highlife rhythms, except this time the kicks were more harder like it is in hiphop. There wasn’t too much strings to make it sound too archaic. I mean it was more of a deeper type of music, a stronger type of music that’s you, but still has bits and pieces of the local thing that the old age want to hear. And so, hiplife beat-wise has really—it’s just like hiphop: I mean hiphop, you can just hear an Indian tone, an Indian type of rhythm, it’s been written on a hiphop type of rhythm and it’s happening, you get people liking it. You can get [inaudible] playing an African type of beat, totally African, [makes sound of drum], totally African, and they still like it.

And that is what is happening in hiplife now. You can get somebody riding on a strictly hiphop beat and people will like it. The next thing you hear is somebody riding on a totally local African, Ghanaian type of beat and they still eat it up. So, hiplife now rhythm-wise is diverse. You can’t really classify hiplife like you would classify Francophone music. I mean, when you hear to Francophone music, you should be sure you are going to hear your guitars [makes high-pitched guitar sound], I mean, it’s not like you classify rock music as you can get your strong rock guitars. But hiplife, you can’t really classify the rhythm now because it has taken the trend of how hiphop is. You can’t classify the hiphop rhythm, I mean, you will definitely have a kick, but you can still get one loud hiphop punk doing something that is full of strings. I mean, talk of Nas, Nas did a song with Tupac, which was more of strings. You can’t classify that as hiphop, but it’s hiphop.

What is the current public perception of hiplife?

Yeah, so the current perception is more like now you get so many old people falling into how we wanted them to fall into. You get so many old people appreciating the hiplife more than their own music they were used to because we were able to kind of lobby them into our sector. I should think if hiplife were to change its course now I think would still like it because now—first, first they were pulling away from hiplife because they thought we were talking too fast, they can’t hear the lyrics, and also on top of it too the beat is Western so they didn’t like it. And then what we did was we introduced more of local beats and we still talked fast and they were like, “Yeah, these days these hiplife musicians, at least now they play highlife rhythms, so we like it.” And now you still get them liking hiplife that even doesn’t have the old pieces, they don’t have the rhythms they want. But, because they are getting used to hiplife, now at least when we rap they can hear. Now they even like hiplife for the lyrical content these days. Because, I mean, you get more hiplife artists—some people have decided to be comic on the microphone. So, if you listen to them you just have to laugh. You’ll be hearing funny things from track one to track ten. And for that matter, some people like hiplife. It’s a platform that you can use to say more things than if you sing in highlife…

Kwaw Kesse: Hiplife's Hardcore Stalwart

2005-11-03T20:45:00.000-06:00

I met Kwaw Kesse at Hush Hush Studio in Accra. He was sitting on the couch waiting, like many of the guys that I met there. Hush Hush is the most popular recording studio in Accra to record. Run by Mr. Danny Adjei, most of hit tracks you hear on the radio are put together here. Hush Hush is also an important spot for up-and-coming rappers. It is here where they hang out and wait and network. I found young rappers hanging out at Hush Hush at all hours any day of the week, anytime I was there. Most of them were waiting for a producer, someone who can help them release their recording. Many times guys are standing around waiting--often for hours--for one of the engineers, hiplife's handful of celebrated beat-programmers. In Ghana people don't seem to mind waiting like this. Everything moves slowly. A young guy who is lucky enough to find a "big man" to fund his project is willing to wait a few hours, it's the least he can do. No doubt, he waited years for his chance to release an album. Guys sit around Hush Hush for weeks, sometime months, just hoping someone will give them the chance to feature on a cut or maybe connect them with someone who'll invest some money into their project.

So, I met Kwaw on a day like this, when he had nothing to do but wait. I don't even remember if he was waiting for his producer to come give him cash, his engineer to come record some overdubs, or anyone else who may be working with him. In any case, when I introduced myself that afternoon I had no idea I was meeting one of tightest Twi-language rappers around.

I mean, this guy is hard. Rhythmically, his flow is more dead-on and soulful than almost any other rappers claiming to be remotely connected to the recognized hiphop aesthetic. But to Kwaw his music is not simply hip-hop, as some claim. Rather, he is making "pure hiplife," as he terms it. He doesn't give a fuck what people think, as long as they check him out.

Kwaw Kesse contradicts himself a lot in a sense. He says music should teach people, but he rhymes about girls pulling up their skirts to let the boys have some fun. Kwaw says profanity is not necessary in music if you truly have talent, yet he, more overtly than almost anyone else, uses profanity in his songs. At once he is humble and demanding, having me fork over the measly 20,000 cedis needed for us to make a bare-bones meal of gari, pepper and fish when I was visiting his house...typically one should feed their guest when they come for a visit, rather than the other way around...

This the cover for Kwaw's debut full-length, which was not actually released until recently. he gave me an advance EP along with this cassette cover somewhere near the end of July '05:

The first time I went to meet Kwaw and his friends for an interview, I wrote this memo upon my return home. These were my initial impressions:

18/3/05 Kyn’s Hotel, Ako Adjei, Osu

I arrive at the house portion of the hotel to find a group of about seven young people wrestling, giggling, and playing cards in a simply furnished living room. Everyone is sitting or lying on the floor. Kwaw, Mmotia (another one of the truly few hardcore Twi rappers), and some other guys are wearing ganja bandanas and t-shirts. Since a few of them already know me from Hush Hush, I feel welcome and comfortable. Now that more people know me, I can show up somewhere and be almost guaranteed someone will recognize me and therefore make me and others feel chill about my presence.

We sit for a few minutes joking about my speaking Twi, as usual. The girls are impressed: "obruni, mepe wasem, wae?" (whiteman, I like your style). I mention how I want to do the interview outside, so we go around the corner to some guy’s backyard to sit under a tree. I say, “Today, you guys are just chilling,” since I was impressed by their youthful way that reminds me of college summers or something, when we have nothing to do in the afternoon but goof around. Kwaw says, "Nah, we’re getting ready for recording tomorrow.”

Kwaw is in the middle of recording his first full-length. His friends are featured on a couple songs. I learn later that in one bedroom they have a make-shift studio. They’ve got a few-year-old Dell desktop, cheap synth, and Fruity Loops beat-composing software. Vocals are done at Hush Hush, but this new engineer KSN is doing the beats for more than half the record somewhere else. Hammer is doing the rest at Hush Hush. From what I heard, KSN is doing something relatively unique in the Ghanaian context, though the first song which was catchy sounded basically like a rip-off of Fat Joe’s “Lean Back”. That’s chill, I thought, so long as the song “hits” and perhaps can get a few people “outside” listening.

We spent a few hours chatting on camera about a lot of the usual stuff but Kwaw surprises me with a few things. For example, he says jama style hiplife is actually not really hiplife because it isn’t related to hiphop enough. He doesn’t appreciate the people who don’t say anything in their lyrics and are just concerned with getting people out on the dance-floor. While Kwaw criticizes love-centered lyrics, he himself seems to have at least a couple songs about love.

We also talk a bit about drop-outs and the perception of hiplife artists. Apparently, families who consider their sons bad boys, eventually come around once the guy starts making money. The mother at the house we are chilling at provides us with glasses, chairs and a table for our meeting, while the guys tell me this would not have ever happened if the white man wasn’t there. When I met the woman, she had a semi-exasperated look when I told her I was there to talk to them about rap.

The guys expressed a lot of concern about the lack of investment in the hiplife movement while there are so many artists ready to “come out”. Kwaw is confused as to why his song is so popular among Ghanaians at home and abroad but he doesn’t have any money. He appears to expect more notoriety or riches or both. But he hasn’t even put out a full-length yet.

By the end of our time together there is much discussion of business opportunities in Ghana. These guys want me to invest money if I ever get some. They came up with a million different ideas for me to get involved in, since I have so much cash to invest... First, we talked about music abroad, then we talked about pineapples, and then other more traditional trade items. It seemed like they looked at me as a chance to get some money in the future. There was talk of setting up branches of American record labels in Ghana, they have so many ideas.

As far as Kwaw’s music, the intent is to get it abroad. They ask me questions about what hiplife artists could make an impact abroad. Unfortunately, they have an over-simplified image of the American music industry in the minds, which can’t really be criticized because all they know is Ghana’s tiny, virtually unregulated and notoriously unprofessional industry. If only it were so easy to “hit” in America...

Hiplife, Vlog-style International

2005-10-30T11:49:00.000-06:00

I've now got a place where you can check out some video clips of rappers in Ghana. My camera captured the scene: individuals' biographies, live performances, freestyle battles, and a fascinating view into the life of numerous young artists. As hiplife takes on many forms in and around Ghana's capital, Accra, I spoke with a vast spectrum of characters. From the 13-year-old schoolyard ragga boys to the 30-something and older crowd of industry movers and shakers, I talked to a ton of people.

Click on the post title above or here to see my first video post, Kwaw Kesse Rocks Tema.

This video clip is a good example of a more underground, but well-organized, show. Tons of excited kids were seriously feeling Kwaw Kesse's audacious jams. In many of his songs, Kwaw uses foul language and insulting epithets, which riles up these wild teenagers to a fevered pitch (somewhat comparable to some of the better hip-hop shows I have seen back here in America). Contrasting with most mainstream hiplife shows, this show features Kwaw actually rapping into a live mic. Most hiplife shows rely on lip-syncing in order to preserve the tightness of the performance, and to help the artist focus on intricate choreographed dances. This is wack, but with most promoters employing severely used sound systems, miming becomes preferable to having the mic go dead mid-song. In this performance, Kwaw keeps the original tracks playing, but has the mic switched on so you hear his actual voice. A hardcore show like this is rare in Ghana, especially among the more established artists who are less apt to risk a disaster, technical or otherwise, which could spoil or delay a show.

FYI--Kwaw Kesse means Big Kwaw (Kwaw is a common Akan name). Dude comes from Agona-Swedru, where he started kicking rhymes as youngster in the schoolyard...

More on Rep Busters Nkasei (click here for a great article on "Yefri Tuobdom" in Ghana Review International)

2005-10-28T18:11:00.000-05:00

While doing this research on hiplife in Ghana, I often took fieldnotes or memos in addition to all my filming. After a long day, I would just write out my thoughts and experiences and impressions...Kind of like this blog. I don't believe in scribbling notes the whole time while chatting with people, so I prefer to go back later on that day or as soon as possible after the interview or performance and write down some of things I thought were important or interesting. Memos helped me summarize and organize my thoughts during research.

This is my memo from the day I interviewed Nkasei

18/08/05 Interviewing Nkasei- Shy's house, St. John's, Accra

I arrive and meet the people who own a liquor and drinks shop attached the house where I am supposed to finally meet the group Nkasei. After weeks of phone tag, waiting, getting stood-up at least twice, I was going to get my time with these cats who have recently blown-the-fuck-up.

The guys arrive a bit late but I enjoy myself chatting with the neighbors. They show up in an SUV, dressed in typical low-key hiphop gear, nothing too flashy. One guy, Shy, has bleach blonde dreads, while the other, Naa-K has a bleach blonde beard. We are meeting at Shy's place it turns out, which is very comfortable: plush couches, big stereo, big screen TV. The guys seem to be enjoying their current tide of success.* "Yefri Tuobodom" is all over Ghana right now: radio, TV, newspaper, etc. The controversy surrounding whether or not the song denigrates the people of Tuobodom in particular and Brong-Ahafo region in general has drummed up a lot of media coverage (unprecedented as far as I have seen for any one song). Daily, I see letters-to-the-editor concerning the issue across the entire spectrum of newspapers and magazines. I hear radio call-in shows mention the topic while the song is played at almost "Konkontibaa"** levels of repetition, only for me "Yefri Tuobodom” never gets old for some reason. I see the video, interviews with the artists, and mention of the song on TV (can't remember which stations). The impact of the song is clear, just walk around town and listen. On numerous occasions I witness hilarious but, often serious, exchanges between passengers on buses that spring out of one being accused of being from Tuobodom (because they acted stupid or ignorant or "bush” in some way). In any case, the people of Tuobodom, as they were depicted in the song (and in the words of the song's composers), are people of the past. They are not meant to be a representation of the modern people living in thatbrightly-bush, brighty-lit town by the roadside just outside of Techiman, BA.

*- One thing I noticed with hiplife musicians in Ghana, if they got some cash they were quick to style themselves (and their friends and family) out poss. This means getting name-brand clothes, a car, their own pad, rocking the expensive clubs, etc. But most of these guys aren't really making enough to support this kind of lifestyle. They often feel pressure from people around them to spend more and be generous, which is something they don't seem to have a problem with. It's just that the large amount of image maintainenece involved with being a mainstream hiplife artist means that many of the stars are actually kind of broke, though relatively they aren't doing too bad...more about this whole issue in a near-future post!

**-"Konkontibaa" turned out to be THE hiplife anthem during my entie year in Ghana. It is not possible to compare its popularity and prevalence with any one song in America for two reasons: one, we don't blast music in public spaces (24-hours a day in some cases) , and our radio playlists and formats are not THAT homogenous (relatively compared with Ghana).

Hiplife's Humorous Duo Turn Heads Internationally (Finally), Click here to hear about it from BBC

2005-10-22T10:38:00.000-05:00

One of the things that is so fascinating about hiplife music is the abundance of controversial lyrics. Ideas of what is acceptable in terms of offensive words, ideas, or images varies a lot between the States and Ghana. Recently a hilarious duo who are altogether veterans in the hiplife game, but had not been heard from in a while, came out with a song that has put them back in the public spotlight. "Yefri Tuobodom", which means "We're from Tuobodom," is a song based on an old folk tune that pokes a bit of fun at the not-so-rural town of Tuobodom. Nkasei, the group in question, put together an updated version of this song and made an enormous hit out of it. The original song functions sort of like a summer camp sing-along and has been sung for years by Ghanaian youth: think "Jingle Bells, Batman smells..." or something of that nature. A friend of mine used to sing it with his mates during a volunteer program he did in a village no where near Tuobodom about ten years ago. The groove is totally unqiue at time when more and more songs either come from two major schools of thought production-wise (Hammer vs. J-Que, to be dealt with in a future posting).

Watch the video.

Basically, the song seems to mock the people of Tuobodom, which has put a stain on the rep of a town no one had really heard of before. Is bad publicity better than no press at all?

I wrote a bunch about this whole issue but it got erased somehow, so I am going to leave it here for now. Just don't have the energy to write it again. Check out the above and below links and read about how this song caused a stir in Parliament, in the media, and the hearts and minds of average folks all over Ghana.

Digital Static: Where Does Hiplife Come From? (Pt. 2)

2005-10-21T16:03:00.000-05:00

The last few days have seen me sorting out my DV tapes, which are the primary record of the Hiplife Complex. This blog is merely a parasite. It survives from sucking small morsels of information off those more than 35 hours of footage I shot over several months documenting hip-hop and hiplife in Ghana earlier this year. As I get myself more organized, I'll be posting some clips and photos take from my collection, but for now it's just words unfortuntely. But as the first couple posts attest, there's much to be fleshed out, so I may as well continue.

Hiplife came about in time dominated by electrified highlife and gospel, both of which are heavy on the cheesy synths and drum machines, while light on the live bands that formerly made decent livings playing around Ghana. Live band refers to a group that plays actual instruments in an acoustic or electro-acoustic ensemble (i.e. electric guitars, brass, winds, keyboards, trap drums, and amplified voice). Somewhere in the late-70s and early-80s, these live bands began to die down. After a series of unstable military regimes, and then two coups led by the charismatic J.J. Rawlings, Ghana found itself in a stark economic situation. For several years (from around 1980 to 1983) there was a curfew, killing nightlife and leaving the numerous bands without gigs. At the same time, music had been taken out of the schools' curiculum, making way for Rawlings' idea of utopic agrarian education. Students learned how to do more practical things like tend to farms and make handicrafts instead. The final major factor leading to the near disappearance of live band music in Ghana was a 150% import duty placed on musical instruments, it seems someone in government considered a saxophone with which one would make one's living to be a luxury...

Musically, people were getting into something different in those days anyway. What they call burgher highlife was going on by the late '70s. Since so many Ghanaian musicians (and doctors and lawyers, etc. for that matter) sought better working conditions in other countries during the '70s and '80s, there were large expatriate communities in a places like Germany, England and Nigeria. Hamburg had an enormous number of Ghanaians living there, which made for a pretty happeneing music scene. These musicians blended some of their hometown style with what was hip in late '70s Germany. Burgher highlife came out of this era and filtered its way back to Ghana, making a lasting impression on local highlife. This a poppy highlife with a dash of disco in there, four on the floor with wah-wah guitars. Sounds cool on paper but it turned out to set Ghanaian pop music on a (some say downard spiral) course toward where we find it today. Burgher highlife is downright metallic in its production. I mean, the drum machine beats sound so dated, tinned out and cliche (and they probably were even in their time), I can't help but sort of cringe when I here some of this stuff. Lyrically, I understand, the useful lessons and social commentary classic highlife has always been known for are still in there. Highlife today is still evolving and still commands a good deal of attention, albeit in consolidated quantities. No doubt, there will always be space for some form of highlife in the mainstream spotlight, so far as highlife is for Ghanaians what rock n' roll (or jazz for older folks and squares) is for Americans.

Gospel is huge in Ghana, representing the largest share of the marketplace. With a watered-down reggae drum machine beat, it is tricked out with less-than-modern, and not-even-close-to-realistic samples. That's chill anyway because Ghanaian gospel is wholesomely G-rated and seems to be enjoyed by just about everyone. One funnny thing I found out when asking about female rappers in Ghana is that people often expect a girl to be a gospel singer, while guys are usually hiplifers. I met a few female rappers who rocked the mic hard in their own feminine way and they mentioned this perception sometimes. While there are a lot of successful male gospel singers in Ghana, it seems like the majority are female. Through tours of church congregations nationwide, along with numerous Chirstian radio stations in every major district, gospel musicians move relatively massive quantities of cassettes and CDs. I've even heard that this pay to play, or payola, radio scheme/scam that is currently afflicting hiplife artists hasn't significantly affected gospel DJs. The hiplifers could certainly learn something from the grassroots marketing techniques and the highly-touted morally constructive behavior of Ghana's gospel artists...

So, now, the contemporary commercial backdrop, which is the context for the emergence of hiplife, has been set: on one hand, you have teched-out highlife that became less and less recognizably linked to the internationally favored highlife of yore (compare contemporary champions Ofori Amponsah, Daddy Lumba, Daasebre Gymenah with E.T. Mensah, King Bruce, and Nana Ampadu's early stuff), and on the other hand, you have gospel's repetitive, occasionally nauseatingly plastic pulse. Looking at the musical and aesthetic environment hiplife developed in, is comes as little surprise to find the majority of hiplife embodying both the flashiness of contemporary highlife and the culturally relevant issue-raising of gospel.

Hiplife didn't start out this way though. At one point, early on, it had the well-known hip-hop beat taken from abroad. Facing West, the youth favored the American style of music for the first few years. And then some local influences took over and the music has never been the same...more on what hiplife sounds like now and how it got there in the next chapter, keep with me!

Hip Hop+Highlife=Hiplife, or, Where does Hiplife Come From? (pt. 1)

2005-10-18T15:41:00.000-05:00

This sounds like a pretty simple concept: combine the energy and vibe of hip hop, the melodic and rhythmic structure of highlife, together with lyrics spit in local languages, and you get hiplife. Not so simple in fact because, as mentioned in yesterday's post, there are a multitude of opinions on the topic. Some artists tell me it is the hip-hop beat with the vernacular rhymes that make it hiplife. Others tell me hiplife must contain Ghanaian music (i.e. locally-derived rhythms and melodic patterns) in order to be considered hiplife. Otherwise, if you got someone rapping in Twi or Ga or Hausa or English, for that matter, over so-called foreign beats, then it is simply a Ghanaian doing hip-hop or rap. And that is not hiplife. Further complicating matters, that is not "Ghanaian." But what do I do as a researcher, running into Rapper A who tells me Rapper B is not doing hiplife, and the next day I ask Rapper B who tells me Rapper A is not doing hiplife. I listen to the radio or read the newspaper where BOTH are referred to as hiplife. Issues of authenticity sure are a bitch...

So while hiplife began as simply Twi lyrics over hip-hop beats, it has evolved (especially in the last five years or so) into a music that in most cases includes highlife and/or palmwine rhythms, melodic/harmonic movements, and vocal styles (through the use of characteristic phrasing, timbre, and cadence). This is confusing enough without taking into account the growing number of true-school stalwarts who insist on maintaining what they believe to be Reggie Rockstone's original vision of what hiplife is supposed to be, again, hip-hop beats with Twi lyrics.

What do I mean by hip-hop beat? For those of you that live under a rock (possibly in a Red State), I mean a beat in four/four, heavy on the bass kicks, usually a tight-sounding snare crack on two and four, along with myriad variations therein. Suffice to say, if you do in fact have no clue what I'm talking about please take a moment to turn on MTV, BET, or basically any FM radio station and check out what much of the world has been digging for the past twenty-odd years.

If you don't have much of a background in highlife music please see any number of great websites, books, and theses devoted to the topic, especially anything written by Prof. John Collins, one my mentors and the foremost scholar on the subject. Highlife is a whole other blog unto itself for someone with a bit of ambition but I will try and quickly lay it down for minute.

Imagine a time when Europeans, returned slaves from the Caribbean, and native Africans all shared space along the West African coast circa the mid- to late-1800s. The Europeans brought with them, along with other more destructive concepts, brass band music and Christian hymns. The formerly enslaved people who had been able to make their way back to Africa carried with them new instruments and song forms (many of which were rooted in Africa but had evolved in their own way due to influences they encoutner while in the Diaspora [see Paul Gilroy's amazing book, the Black Atlantic]). And, of course, the local Africans had their complex and varied traditions of popular songs and dances.

Although the people responsible for this development hailed from geographically disparate places we now call Jamaica, Cuba, Nigeria, Ghana, England, and Portugal (to name just a few), their sounds merged and manifested into a handful of genres. By the 1920s, palmwine music took hold in the British Gold Coast colony (now known as Ghana). Palmwine developed further as it was fused with newer trends from abroad like big band jazz and calypso. Palmwine groups orignally consisted of three musicians, but they soon grew in size and the music became know as highlife. They called it highlife because of the high-class nature of the scene it produced. You had to be rich to go to the big dance halls and clubs that played dance band highlife to tuxedoed men in top hats and women in expensive gowns. Therefore, those who enjoyed this Africanized analog to American jazz were said to be living the highlife. As it quickly became the dominant popular form in Ghana, as well as other much of the rest of West Africa and parts of East and Southern Africa, dance band highlife represents the first real music industry for Ghana. Records were pressed and sold all over the world, hip clubs popped up all over town, and Ghana's first celebrities emerged.

At the same time, guitar band highlife took shape as a sort of small group style that was consumed and produced by a more rural and working-class audience. They two forms broke off from palwine simultaneously, representing an emergent class schism which still exists today. Both changed with the times and still exist today in their own (sometimes pathetic) way. Though you wouldn't know it by the sheer volume of kids with backwards baseball caps and Timberland boots running around town these days. Long story short, these two intertwined movements, guitar band and dance band highlife, ruled the Ghanaian popular music scene in some form for much of the rest of the century.

That is, until the youth got wind of what was happening in the New York, Kingston, and London. At first reggae ruled, with kids latching onto the popular images associated with that style. Rude boys and dreads began to pop up in the Ghanaian music scene and continue to run things in their own way today (this is a topic that deserves a lot of study, as at least half of the rappers in Ghana got their start as raggamuffin boys and lickle rasta brethren). It wasn't until much later that someone actually had the balls, and the cash, to put out a hiplife album. This came after several years of rap and breakdance contests throughout the country, which focused on English-language toasts over stolen beats from the West. Reggie Rockstone changed all this with his first release, Makaa Maka, sponsored by his wealthy international fashion-designer father. No one had yet released a recording with rap in Twi at that time.

As can be read about ad nausium elsewhere (just ask your good friend Mr. Google, or Jeeves I guess), Reggie represented the whole package for Ghanaian youth and came at just the right moment. The radio waves had been liberated from decades of national control, so the privately-owned stations that began to appear in the major cities needed something hip yet local to play. Apparently people quickly grew tired of hearing foreign tracks and didn't want to hear their parents' and grandparents' highlife music either. Local reggae didn't cut it because it never sounded as real and tight as the Jamaicans did it and it didn't seem to have that localized identity. Plus, despite Ghana's relatively high literacy rate, not everyone can understand lyrics in English very well. So, Reggie, who had recently returned to Ghana after a semi-successful career (depending on who you ask) as an English-language rapper in London with the group PLZ, decided that he was going to give the kids what he believed they needed: a voice.

As Reggie told me the first time I interviewed him on my first trip to Ghana in 2002, "The youth in Ghana never really had a voice before I got here. They had to listen to all their brothers in the Diaspora and shit..."

It is this statement, and its implications, that led me to spending a whole year in Ghana talking to as many musicians young and old that would tolerate my presence and incessant queries...

The Hiplife Complex...A Beginning of Sorts

2005-10-18T02:25:00.000-05:00

Rather than attempting to reinvent the wheel by recounting the history of hiplife, I submit this first entry in the name of shifting the emphasis of hiplife research and documentation on a different course. No longer is it acceptable to simply recount hip-hop's history in Ghana and leave it at that, as this has been done already. Rather, I set out to relay my personal experiences and observations-- gathered mostly during a year-long sojourn through the dankest of urban tenements, the most lavish of post-independence decadence, and everything in between--regarding the most visible, vital, and controversial movement in Ghanaian music probably ever.

Hiplife is visible because it is everywhere (in Ghana): radios blasting at all hours of the day and night in virtually every neighborhood, household, and market in the country; TV stations incorporating it into their programming at every level, from game shows to political talk shows to commercial advertisements; cassettes, CD's, VCD's, DVD's and internet cafes act as the third most common set of go-betweens by which hiplife travels from the often makeshift studios of Ghana's sweaty capital Accra to the ears and bodies of millions of Ghanaians, young and old.

Hiplife is vital because it has not only reached critical importance nowadays (for reasons to be covered later), but because it is in flux, constantly. This dynamism is not limited to what we normally think of in terms of music or art evolving organically. No--depending on who, where, and how you ask the question, "What is hiplife?", you'll get as many different nuanced and loaded responses. And that, madamfo, is part of the reason why I chose to spend the last three years of my young life researching the topic.

Finally, hiplife is controversial because, despite its utter ubiquity, not everyone in Ghana appreciates what it says or what it stands for. "Hiplife, shitlife" I've been told by a man who used to make a pretty impressive living producing and promoting the A-list of Ghanaian highlife musicians for more than three decades. "Do you really see the music as having any redeeming value?" I've been asked by several younger traditional musicians, who wish they could gain more local recognition for the absolutely brilliant work they do that goes almost completely unnoticed in their homeland while being adored by high-paying audiences abroad. One of the fascinating things about the hiplife complex is the concept of profanity in Ghana. This is something I go deeper into in the weeks ahead, but suffice to say a song about tadpoles can cause an unprecedented national stir and then go on to sweep the Ghana Music Awards. This is not before the artist had to present his case to a panel of award show judges, explaining why his song should not be considered profane and should be allowed to compete in the awards program.

Above, I submit that hiplife is the MOST visible, the MOST vital, and the MOST controversial musical movement Ghana has seen. This is not to say that highlife did not embody any and all of those characteristics. Instead, these discussions will hopefully get across just how big of a role technology, mass media, and globalization have played in making hiplife what it is today.

Damn, there's way to too much to cover! Please bear with me as I attempt to piece together the seemingly endless adventures, thoughts, and theories that make up The Hiplife Complex.