Rediscovering Hope
“It’s all in my music... Just listen to my music.”
The burdensome weight resting on American shoulders is heavy. The heat from the divisiveness of politics is thick, stifling, and suffocating. It has even driven a wedge and caused irreparable rifts between families and friends. Basic human decency and kindness have largely been forgotten and the media headlines cater to sensationalism and click baits. Leaving the country and completely detaching myself from the political drama, even for only three weeks, was pure joy. To return and be thrust back into it is an arduous chore.
In all honesty, the Pacific Northwest often seems engulfed in a negative disposition. Perhaps it's our nine months of grey drizzle and lack of sunshine that can lead to gloomy seasonal affective disorder. Yet, the pessimism persists even during the gorgeous summer days when we finally get our long-awaited dose of vitamin D and the rare heatwave only lasts a few days. A good sense of humor also seems to have been abandoned upon entry, as it is almost nonexistent here in the PNW.
Finding positives, no matter how small they may be, appreciating the beauty around us, and embracing laughter and hope are essential for me. I strive to direct my energy towards controlling what I can control and releasing things I can’t. I am committed to making the most of the time shared on this pale blue dot.
Music has the unique power to break down barriers and inspire hope. Gospel music, in particular, has been a wonderful source of strength for communities that have faced the worst oppression, racism, and horrific violence throughout American history. Artists like Al Green, Mavis Staples, Billy Preston, Aretha Franklin, and Mahalia Jackson have created beautiful and uplifting music that resonates with people worldwide.
The message of hope often shared and expressed through music is universal and knows no bounds.
Dudu Pukwana was a brilliantly talented South African jazz musician who, like many others, was forced to flee from Apartheid and seek refuge in exile. Initially a member of the Blue Notes, he found a new home in London, collaborating with a diverse range of artists. Alongside his friend and fellow compatriot, Mongezi Feza, Dudu went on to form the bands Assagai and Spear. He also collaborated with many artists, including Hugh Masekela, on my favorite jazz album, ‘Home Is Where The Music Is.’
In 1974, Dudu and his band Spear recorded the astonishing African jazz album ‘In the Townships.’ This incredible album seamlessly blends kwela, a fusion of South African township music and American free jazz, with the lively rhythms of mbaqanga, a style merging traditional African melodies with contemporary music.
Its lyrics touch on themes of displacement and the search for a sense of belonging. It delves into the idea of finding unity among exiled communities pursuing a new home and proudly embracing one's identity. It celebrates black pride and the rich heritage of the African diaspora. Despite the sorrow of losing one's roots as a refugee, the album encourages introspection and self-discovery.
“Zukude,” the breathtaking closing song on side one, perfectly encapsulates the elegance, cultural pride, and hope woven throughout the album.
In Xhosa and Zulu (Xhosa is a similar dialect to Zulu), the word “Zukude” translates as far away, while in Swahili, it means to arise or rise up. This word holds a powerful message in its differing meanings. It urges those in exile to stay united in their new faraway land while also being a rallying cry for those in the townships to mobilize and rise against their oppressors.
Singing in an unharmonised African call-and-response pattern in the Xhosa language, the rough translation of its lyrics is:
Amazwe - (Countries)
Amazwe ngamazwe amaninzi - (Many countries)
Yen’ uRadebe akazazi neentaka - (Where Radebe doesn't even know the birds)
Like a bird taking flight, Dudu, the exiled refugee, has spread his wings and is using his music to creatively express the feeling of being lost in his adopted home.
The song exudes its harmonious blend of African kwela and mbaqanga styles. The lively ragtime gospel-style piano, the strident, bittersweet tone of the horns, the rhythmic congas, and the textured vocals all come together seamlessly. Feza's glorious trumpet solo bursts forth at the 3 '18 marker as the piano and saxophones repeat a splendid swing rhythm. Feza also subtly pays homage to the South African jazz legend Eric Nomvete by infusing elements from his beloved and legendary track "Pondo Blues."
Even though the song has a sad theme, its abstract rhythms express pure joy, and the tonal color throughout the melody is vibrant and stunningly infectious.
When asked in interviews about his thoughts, Dudu straightforwardly responds, “It’s all in my music... Just listen to my music.”
Even the liner notes on the back of the LP boldly state:
“His music is a total commitment to bringing out the abstracts of life and molding them into a flow of sounds unique in a field strewn with pedestrian artistry. The man’s courage is towering, and from this comes his music’s magnitude. His is a music of inner contact with rhythmic impact honed to a near-breaking point. The music is consuming in its expression of South African township violence, fear, love, and bacchanalia. Let the album run through this emotional swirl. The least that will happen to you is that you will emerge with a sense of rediscovery.”
As a white man who grew up in the suburbs of Cleveland, I can't pretend to know what it's like to be black in America, let alone life in the South African townships during Apartheid. Nevertheless, music has the power to surpass and break down barriers, and I can clearly sense Dudu's soul being bared through his music. It not only inspires and moves me, but it also helps me rediscover my own feelings of hope and positivity. Especially when surrounded by the constant deafening noise of negativity.
If people who know firsthand the challenges of violent oppression, fear, living in exile, and instability can find ways to rise above, create breathtakingly beautiful art, and still hold onto hope…
So can I.
Another wonderful piece Michael. At times I look at the world around me and feel a sense of hopeless frustration. It feels like we are going backwards in so many areas. The level of vitriol increases, the level of kindness decreases and respectful discourse disappears.
But like you, I try to focus on what I can change. How I treat others and where I can inject positivity within my sphere of influence. Despair, for me, needs to be fleeting. I can’t sit in that space. It’s not productive.
And then there’s music, that safe refuge, where, no matter what’s going on in the world around me, I can find peace.
My knowledge of jazz is limited, an area ripe for further exploration. I’ve heard of Hugh Masekela but never listened to much of his music. I’ve added your favorite album to my listening queue. I enjoyed the Dudu track and am listening to Diamond Express right now.
Thanks for pointing me in this musical direction!
This track is just unbelievably cool.