“De Aquí No Sales”, Rosalía, El Mal Querer, 2018
“I Got a Woman”, Ray Charles, Ray Charles, 1957
“ブリーズ (Breeze)”, Funky Stuff, Jiro Inagaki & Soul Media, 1975
“The Pasture”, Tadataka Unno & Mike Carr, Live at Blue Note, 2021
“The Revolution Will Not Be Televised”, Gil Scott-Heron, Small Talk at 125th and Lenox, 1970
“Is It Because I’m Black”, Syl Johnson, Is It Because I’m Black, 1970
“Fine Anyway”, Rogér Fakhr, Fine Anyway, 2021
“Çok Yorgunum”, Cem Karaca, Die Kanaken, 1984
“Music is universal,” is a frequently used phrase, but the truth is not as simple as it sounds. Even though the musical piece itself can be considered a universal entity, the context in which it was produced plays a crucial role in the audience that will listen to the piece. This essay will be analysing ten songs from far ends of the world with significantly different backgrounds. The only thing that is shared among these ten pieces is the audience. Though performing in dissimilar time periods and locations, all these artists received backlash or were mistreated by several groups of people. This shared sense of unwantedness made these artists the “in-betweens”, as they will be referred to in this essay.
A college student, Rosalía produced an album as her graduation thesis at Catalunya College of Music, where she studied flamenco as well as music production. Catalan/Spanish singer Rosalía’s album, El Mal Querer is inspired by 13th century manuscript Romance of Flamenca, which tells the story of a woman whose jealous husband imprisons her in a tower. The song De Aquí No Sales talks about domestic violence and the justifications these abusers use, which also serves as the climax of the narrative arc of the album. The song’s beginning has motorcycle revving samples that are used instead of the traditional handclaps heard in Flamenco music. They gradually dissolve into rhythmic clapping sounds. She is frequently criticized by purists on two main issues: ‘Spanishisms’ and wrong representation of flamenco. While Catalan nationalist purists shame her for using Spanish words in some of her songs, she believes that this is a part of her upbringing, representing the conflict between Catalonia and Spain. When it comes to her use of flamenco beats and techniques, she calls her album “100 percent inspired by flamenco.” However, many purists criticized her by saying that “she lacks almost everything,” that a singer must have to practice the Spanish art form. With its mixed origin stories, flamenco is one of the strictest forms of Spanish music with a strong purist community. This issue serves as a great example for the discussions on hybridity and authenticity, as it could be seen that music can get very discriminatory without the need of an outsider’s judgement. Spanish and Catalan purists ironically come together in criticizing her authentic approach on Flamenco music with hybrid influences from her mixed identity, making her an example of an in-between artist, getting backlash from her own people.
The third piece is “I Got a Woman” from the debut album of pianist and vocalist Ray Charles. The song is an iteration of the gospel song “It Must Be Jesus,” one of the many religious pieces that started Ray Charles’s career. Opening the door for gospel inspired soul singers like Otis Redding, this blatant and direct transcription of a gospel song, as well as many others in his album, caused a backlash from preachers and religious groups. The rhythm, the melody, and even the lyrics, though not specifically credited, are far too alike to be a coincidence. While also facing the racist structures of the times, Ray Charles had to overcome many obstacles to reach the fame he eventually received. It was his traditional approach to hymns and traditional pieces that separated him from the big names of the day like Nat King Cole.
The fourth song of the playlist is “ブリーズ (Breeze)” by Jiro Inagaki and his group Soul Media. Inagaki was born in 1933, right when Jazz was being introduced to Japanese audiences with the influence of bands from Philippine who learnt the genre from their occupiers. Japanese Jazz was criticized by various groups for a very long period. Both Japanese critics and American jazz critics shamed Japanese musicians that were “imitating” American artists. It didn’t make sense for anyone for these Japanese musicians to break their traditions and rules and start improvising. They were banned to play in Japan for a while, but with time, after WWII, they were encouraged to play by the government. Most of them toured in the US and travelled the world. However, they were still criticized by ‘purists.’ The song begins with instruments that are far from the conventional jazz instruments. The authentic Japanese sounds set the song apart from the traditional jazz pieces. Later, drums begin, then the saxophone and trombones follow and somewhere along the way an electronic guitar joins the party. Perhaps one of the most famous pieces in J-Jazz, what sets “Breeze” apart, is this use of various instruments. The discrimination faced by Japanese artists by both parties allowed them to objectively combine what they thought was the best attributes of both countries’ music and come up with the hybrid genre of Japanese Jazz.
The fifth entry of the playlist is actually a performance of Japanese jazz artist, Tadataka Unno, accompanied by Mike Carr at the historical Blue Note Club in NY, playing an original, The Pasture. Unno moved to New York in 2008 to follow his dreams of performing jazz in the US, where the genre was born. Even though he states that he faced discrimination by some venue owners and performers, he became one of the up-and-coming jazz pianists in NY. In September 2020 Unno was the victim of a hate-crime and ended up being hospitalized, potentially losing his ability to play the piano again. It took him a year of rehab to finally get back to stage. On his 41st birthday, he played once again at the Blue Note Club. The performance itself serves as a strong example of the fight against discrimination.
The sixth and seventh pieces of this playlist are similar in their setting and the issues they examine. Both songs talk about the setbacks black people face in the United States. While Gil Scott-Heron’s “The Revolution Will Not Be Televised” take an activist approach, calling his fellow “brothers” into action, Syl Johnson’s soul piece describe the hardships of his personal life, and poses the question “is it because I’m black?” The tone of their messages can be inferred from the rhythm and lyrics of their songs. Scott-Heron’s piece is a slam poet performance recorded in NY in 1970. There are bongos in the background, playing a constant rhythm leading the audience’s focus to the lyrics of the song. On the other hand, Johnson’s song is much more musical, with a soul rhythm in the background. His voice is smoother compared to the harsh tone of Scott-Heron. Both artists talk about the same issue in very different ways, emphasizing on different aspects of the issue. However, as different as their approaches can be, they both meet in the idea that they should “keep pushing.” It is the shared sense of “otherness” which they must face every day that connects them.
The last three songs of the playlist are by artists that were either forced to move or exiled from their home countries to a different environment. The first song is “Fine Anyway” by Rogér Fakhr, from his compilation album that he released with Habibi Funk, a record label based in Germany that specialises on obscure Arab tunes and artists. The album consists of Fakhr’s songs from 1970s that he recorded but couldn’t publish to big audiences. Fakhr was born in Lebanon and worked with celebrated artists like Fairuz. He says that he grew up listening to English songs by artists such as the Beatles and James Taylor, which can be seen in his music as they have nearly no Lebanese influences. Him performing English songs like “Fine Anyway” caused him problems after the Lebanese civil war, so he had to move to Paris. These songs that weren’t popular in Lebanon weren’t praised by the Parisian audience as well, so he worked with other artists throughout his career. Until recently, his American and British influenced songs weren’t heard by more than a handful of people as he couldn’t find an audience to listen such songs from a Lebanese artist. Eventually he rose to fame among the followers of Habibi Funk with the 2021 release. He is a good example of how the setting of which the music is released can affect its popularity, as it took fifty years for his songs to be valued by a wider audience.
The final song of the playlist is Çok Yorgunum, by Cem Karaca, one of the most prominent Anatolian Rock artists. After the 1980 coup d’état in Turkey, many Anatolian Rock artists were declared leftist activists and had to depart the country. Cem Karaca, a pioneer of the genre, was one of the many artists who had to flee. Like many others, he went to West Germany. There were huge Turkish communities in Germany, who went there after WWII due to an urgent need of working capital in the country. However, these communities faced racism and discrimination. Die Kanaken was the main phrase used to insult these communities. He ironically named his group, formed by other exiled Turks, and his album Die Kanaken to point out this discrimination. Karaca, in one of his interviews said, “we were not treated like Turks when we were in Turkey and we are not treated like Germans in Germany… we are somewhere in between, but we don’t have a place to call our own.” Making him the archetype of the “in-between artist.” The song, Çok Yorgunum is originally a poem by Nazım Hikmet, one of the most prominent Turkish poets, who was also ‘exiled’ in 1951. He had to flee the country in fear of his life, much like Karaca, and wrote his most famous work in exile. Çok Yorgunum was one of them, which directly translate to “I am very tired.” The song starts with a traditional Turkish instrument, kemençe, which is followed by sounds of seagulls and waves. These elements set a melancholic and nostalgic atmosphere which fits the lyrics and the context of the song. In addition, Karaca chose to place a painting by Hanefi Yeter, a Turkish artist who was also in Germany at the time on the cover of his album, which is a deliberate move to make the album a fully Turkish production. Sang by Turkish diasporas for years to come, Karaca became the voice of many “in-betweens.”
All these artists who lived in different parts of the world in different time periods all shared the feeling of unwantedness. Some had their small support groups, but all lacked big communities of a shared identity. Whether be a diverse family background, strong traditions and their purist protectors, racism, or immigration, musicians of this playlist either faced obstacles due to their music or overcame such obstacles with the music they produced, making them members of the exclusive club: “The In-betweens.”
Can Conger – UChicago ‘24
Hanefi Yeter’s painting on the cover of the album.
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