I was going to write something serious, about the Laws of Proportionality...but today's Nahda is about Keren, Ethiopia's marching band music and the strange relationship between the two. Some readers will find a tongue-in-cheek commentary while Eritrea is going through hell completely disproportionate, but I have a perfect alibi: Ramadan!  Besides, this is existentialism: is marching band music really music?

While reviewing a book by Ashekeh, ("Gift of Incense", published by Red Sea Books) an Eritrean who shares part of the blame, I mean credit, for Ethiopia's marching band music of the 60's and 70's,  a Kerenite told us that "Keren is culturally superior to Asmera and Addis Ababa."  Last week Alnahda preached that we should celebrate Eritrea and Eritreanness...but now I have to qualify it: should we really celebrate that an Eritrean was responsible for that abomination?

In the spirit of Ramadan and brotherhood, I spoke to its author, my friend Saleh Gadi.  That is very funny, I said.  We appreciate your sense of humor, much needed these days, brother, I say.  You were joking when you claimed cultural superiority for Keren, right? I say. You know me, I joke a lot, but not about Keren, he says.  Then he asks me for a moment of somberness while we think of the sacred land of Keren. 

Marching Band Music

If the Kerenite Ashekeh indeed has that much responsibility for Amharic music, well� wait a minute, he has passed away, and one must not speak ill of the dead.  Particularly in Ramadan.  Now, I fully expect our Amiche brothers to be offended�and I would welcome all your hate mail at my new e-mail address This email address is being protected from spam bots, you need Javascript enabled to view it   Humble question: is it in bad taste to state my opinion that Amharic music of the era was the worst Africa had to offer�precisely because it was not African at all?

I think it is an oxymoron to label the choreographed noise of marching bands as music; I am not even sure if it qualifies as sound. Compared to any style of music, it is auditory assaut.  Go to your neighborhood international music store and pick up CDs from Mali, from Zimbabwe, from Madagascar and you will notice, instantly, how abysmally bad the �music� of Amharic songs of the era was compared to what Africa produces.  On your right hand, place Alpha Blondy, Habib Kote, Angelique Kujo, Oliver Mtukudzi...on the left Tilahun Gesese.  Semayn midrin.

Where I live, a music store was selling the folk music of Ethiopia�s �Semien Mountains��listen to it to appreciate how the Western-hybrid music of the orchestra robbed Ethiopia of its musical heritage.  We haven't even talked about the other indigenous music of the vastness of Ethiopia which got buried by the marching bands.  Uggggh!

It is bad enough that one has to listen to marching band music in special events but to make that the national pop music requires a complete lack of taste and mindless imitation of Western music.

The only noise worse than the one His Majesty�s body guards produced was the one that became popular in the Derg era.  How do I describe that?  You have, no doubt, seen Chinese acrobatic troupes?  And that klinkity-klink background noise that accompanies their physical masterpieces?  For some reason, that annoying kilinkity-klick was set to Amharic lyrics and called revolutionary music.  You can tell a lot about a revolution by its soundtrack. 

The latest Bolivarian revolutionary in South America (the continent averages one per 5 years), Venezuela�s Chavez, has passed a law requiring radio stations to alter their playlist to include no less than 50% of indigenous music�the other 50% can be the usual sappy Western love songs.    I hate it when governments pass un-enforceable laws, but the man has to do something to save his country from Phil Collins and Huey Lewis and The News, for God�s sake.  Of course these should not have been a government edict�and the DJ�s are responding it the way free societies do: by ignoring it or by open revolt.  Some are picking the most vulgar �traditional music� to tell Chavez, �here is your damn folk music.�

A political interlude: To those who admire Chavez when trying to justify the oppression in Eritrea, please note that the DJs are not arrested.  And Chavez was ELECTED and there is an OPPOSITION in his country.

The marching band orchestras were not limited to Ethiopia.  Eritrea of the 1960s-70s had them as well.  Remember the Police band (not the one with Sting but the one with Yonus Ibrahim.)  Now please erase your nostalgia and sentimentality and try to listen to it now.  That is music?  The Arabs say �ya beKt al Atresh� (blessed are the deaf) for such occasions.

One thing you can say about the Eritrean Police band is that it produced Tseggai Beraki, an unusually gifted man.  I was talking to an Ethiopian and I had to break her heart and tell her that he is ours, an Eritrean. Ours, ours, ours, na, na, na, na na.  If you can get over the lead singer�s imitation of Michael Jackson, I think you will be dazzled by Lula Band�s cover of Tseggai Beraki�s song, �Afom me�Ar Iyu, Libom belih lama.� (Their mouth drips honey sweet; their hearts are sharp blades.) Over the years, I have been updating my reference to apply it to any smooth-talking but evil-to-the-core entity....What's that? No, PFDJ hasn't made it to that club because both their words and their deeds are "belih lama."

Actually, the one song that reminds me most of PFDJ is a song by Zimbabwe's Oliver Mtkudzi.  It is a haunting song...of course I don't understand a single word he is saying.  But the CD sheet explains: the song is about a farmer who had a favorite, trusted ox...the ox kicked him...and the song is about the farmer telling his wife how this favorite ox betray and hurt him.

Back to marching band music.  Tseggai Beraki got out of the Police and his songs were largely influenced by Motown, Elvis and whoever was hot in America's early 1970s. You can check out Lula band's  cover version of Tseggai Beraki here  http://www.lulaband.com/music/afom_mear_iyu-remix.ram. which is as appealing as their  best work yet "Joshua"--their  tribute to the incarcerated journalist. My favorite (meaning, without drum machines) is in the live version (taped in Toronto)--the video of which is also available here. The rocking (killer guitar riffs) version is here http://lulaband.com/music/frameset.html (check afom mear iyu live.)

�It is the second best cover you�ve heard,� a friend corrected me once.  And the best is, I asked, although I knew the answer.  The best cover of Tseggai Beraki's song, according to him, is his acoustic version which he subjects me to whenever he picks up his guitar, twice a year, New Year's Eve and September 1. (Actually, he is quite good, if you have the patience for the 30 minutes it takes him to tune his guitar to play a 3 minute song.)

Keren

Again, some of you will be upset, so here too I kindly remind you to send your e-mail to This email address is being protected from spam bots, you need Javascript enabled to view it .  This is a good natured jab, so please bring your sense of humor with you.  Remember, some of my best friends, etc.

The best thing about Keren is that it has buses and roads and a nice sign reading, "Now Leaving Keren."  I am kidding, about the last part. Any direction out of there is generally a good idea.  Why? For one thing, it seems to generate more insane people per capita than others. But that can change, although I doubt it, because of the second reason, which cannot change:  Topography.  Because it is a bowl�a depressing valley surrounded by mountaints--it has that claustrophobic feel of the island, without the benefit of the water.  It was, I think, a city picked by the military, for military reasons, the original Sawa.    My fondest memories of Keren are related to my Kerenite relatives.  Specially the ones that were, without permission of their parents, taking a bus to just get the hell out and visit us in Asmara on weekends.  

I would take them to the movies and make a deal with them: if they would pay the entrance fee, I would pay the exit fee.  Quite a deal.  I am joking; you don't do that to Kerenites because I think they had one theater and they were familiar with the concept.  You do that to folks from Agordat.

Keren is hot, it is dusty, it is windy.  Quite by accident, I once met a Kerenite on a plane-- we were both headed to the East Coast and we transited in Houston, Texas.  Those of you who�ve been to Houston know this: you are at the air conditioned airport, then the sliding doors slide open and you are slapped in the face with the heavy hot humidity of Houston.  �Ah, feels like home!� said the Kerenite, seriously.   Two minutes there and you are drenched in sweat and you just feel like you want to lay down somewhere.  And, suddenly, you find yourself talking very slowly and reaching for a stone to throw at a passerby for no reason at all...

There is too much air�oxygen, carbon dioxide�in Keren.  Up in my hometown of Asmara, (elevation: 7700 ft) we don�t need no stinking air.  In her book, Michela Wrong quotes somebody who very unkindly said that the high elevation of Asmara deprives its residents of oxygen which, in addition to giving them a buzz after a few drinks, also makes them quick tempered.  Oh yeah?  Be a man, and say that to my face and using Testa, I will pummel you� oh, wait a minute, I am just kidding.  Actually, deqi-Asmara are very cool-headed and funny, I always thought. 

Before you argue with me, please do not mistake deqi-Asmera with Asmarinos, the Italia-worshipping Asmara residents for whom hubris comes casually. 

Let me demonstrate.  Here is an exchange between two friends, a wedi-Asmera and an Asmarino:

Asmarino (moaning): Alora! I lost every cent of my investment in Eritrea.

wedi-Asmera (laughing): listen, nebsey. Wasn't the first thing the EPLF do to us when we joined the field take our watches? Why are you surprised that they took all your money now?"

Asmarino (dismissively): Macke! You didn't have a watch when we joined the field!

Back From Exile

Many of us are reconciled to the idea that our temporary homes in exiles are our permanent homes but when we are allowed to fantasize, those of us who are in exile, occasionally talk about our return to our homes.  I have a friend who claims that he will go to his village and build a modest house.  Another will go to some remote place in Eritrea that he has never been to.  Another will spend his summers there and the winters in his adopted home, next to his children. 

Me?  Of course, I will go to Asmara. Preferrably on the street formerly known as Marconi Guillelmo street which will probably be named Radio St after the PFDJ are overthrown.  I will buy a house; I will insist that my brokers buy it from one of the suckers who overpaid for it in Zemene Higdef.  The journalists, out of prison, will be journalising.  The opposition will be negotiating power.  Then I will open a music school. Really.  I even have the syllabus, and a course outline and it goes something like this:

1.        Eritrean Music 101:  Marching Bands: The Difference Between Noise & Sound

2.        Eritrean Music 102: Post-PFDJ Music: The Merciful Death of Saxophones

3.        Eritrean Music 103: Traditional Instruments: Krar, Wata, etc and high-pitched girls.

4.        Eritrean Music 104: Modernising Music: Ma.t.a.:The significance of  �Ane w�n kab men Hamiqe Ilu kraru quarenti a�atiyula.�

5.        Eritrean Music 105: Prince, Kings, Queens of Eritrean Music: Yemane Baria, Abrar, wed Ammir, etc.

6.        Eritrean Music 106: Image & Sound.  Example: How Great Lyrics Make You Forget That Haile Gebru Is A Tall Guy Wearing A White Suit Who Only Knows How To Dance "Twist"

7.        Eritrean Music 107: Drum Machines Are Not Musical Instruments; They Just Play One On TV

8.        Eritrean Music 108: Awlo: How We Invented hip-hop music (taught by Asmarino)

9.   Eritrean Music 109: Beni Amr Music: How We Invented Reggae (taught by Asmarino)

10.    Eritrean Music 110: Ethics: Wasting Talent.  Why wedi Tukabo, Despite His Talent, Is not played in Post-PFDJ Eritrea.

10.    Final Exam: Mastering the post PFDJ national anthem, Atewe Berhan�s �Adeye Adi Jeganu� using Guitar, krar, and aluminium foil over combs.   

Alright, to those of you who have no sense of humor, the above is all, at least most of it, said good-naturedly.   The post-marching-band and orchestra Amharic music is quite good, particulalry the Amharic reggae.   And, of course, I love Keren, who doesn�t?  After all, it is only 90 kilometers from Asmara�

Ramadan Kareem and a collective thank you to all your good wishes. 

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