Click image to get it.

Chimurenga Renaissance is a side project of Tendai Maraire’s who you already know as one part of Shabazz Palaces. Do a little light internet digging to find the meaning of “chimurenga” and you’re on your way toward enlightenment. Listen to CR’s Pungwe mixtape (which actually dropped last fall) to take another step.

“A Toast to Frame and Ro” features Tendai’s SP partner, Palaceer Lazaro, and it might be the hardest, most beautifulest thing in Seattle rap this year.

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Tendai Maraire: “I remember when Zimbabwe gained independence. My mother had a big party at the house in Seattle — with all her friends, Zimbabwean and American. My uncle, who fought in the guerrilla war against the white Rhodesian state, flew in weeks later. She started celebrating every year and even would get together with friends to sponsor groups from Zimbabwe to come and perform. Years later she focused more on performing, and non-Zimbabweans took over. They called it a Marimba festival and later transitioned it to Zimfest, which still exists. One year, my brothers and I went when my father was still alive living in Zimbabwe. After we came back, we saw that it had not represented our culture, history or the people indigenous to Zimbabwe. So we started flipping tables etcetera. The festival was stopped and dialogue started on how things needed to change. I promised that day to everyone that I would change it. See, Zimbabwean music has a rich story-telling history. Some songs have messages that are inappropriate for those of European descent to sing. But yet they still feel comfortable doing so even though Shona people feel this way. So ‘Boom’ is me throwing my first punch at those that still disrespect the music. While I touch on some subjects that personally affect me when they do it. Boom!”*

* When Tendai Maraire broke down his Pungwe mixtape for us last year. Above is the video for the mixtape’s second track, “Boom”.

TOUGH BOND film poster via Cinema Kenya

The Village Beat’s devastatingly beautiful film, Tough Bond, named after a commonly huffed adhesive, premiered at the Berlin International Film Festival last month. It tells the stories of four Kenyan street children that unite together to hustle through yet another day. The film is a thick window that peers into what many would call an unfathomable lifestyle. We sympathize and pity, try to understand but for many reasons we fail to truly make the leap.

TOUGH BOND: (OFFICIAL TRAILER) from Village Beat on Vimeo.

In 2007, it was estimated that 250,000-300,000 street kids, often malnourished and sick, scramble to survive on the streets of Kenya with more than 60,000 living in the capital city of Nairobi. Unlivable wages have given rise to homelessness in Kenya.  Children are sent out by their parents to work small jobs or to stop passengers in traffic for money. Many of these children have been orphaned or abandoned by family members due to ethnic conflict, insufficient medical care or the lack of financial resources.

The Village Beat, a non-profit film collective based in Venice Beach, California, creates art as action, aiming to “amplify the voice of the village.” The collective, co-founded by Anneliese Vandenberg and Austin Peck, dabbles in film, photography, music, and public installation.

They’ve produced music videos for The Very Best’s “Kondaine” [feat. Seye] and “Yoshua Alikitu.”

“Kondaine” was shot in the Turkana village of Epiding in northern Kenya. The musical collective, consisting of London based DJ/production duo Radioclit and Esau Mwamwaya from Malawi, fuses dance, hiphop, pop and traditional Malawian music to make up a distinct Afro-Western sound.

“Yoshua Alikitu,” was shot in the Kiamaiko neighborhood, outside of Nairobi. The Very Best and Seye, a 24-year-old Nigerian singer, composed the original soundtrack for Tough Bond.

Shabazz Palaces, a futuristic hiphop duo based in Seattle, used footage from Tough Bond in their 2011 video for “Blast It.” The group is led by Zimbabwean multi-instrumentalist Tendai ‘Baba’ Maraire and Ishmael Butler aka Palaceer Lazaro [formerly Butterfly of Digable Planets]. Also check out this dope site, Ishmaelites, dedicated to exploring the complex music of Shabazz Palaces.

SHABAZZ PALACES- “BLAST IT” from Village Beat on Vimeo.

The Village Beat will soon launch the Beat Radio Network, a network of community radio stations in northern Kenya that will broadcast news and music in local languages and help Kenyans connect with each other, their country, and the world.

Tendai Maraire (Photo @ Ben Irwin)

“This is an African Hip-Hop movement.” Seattle-based Zimbabwean Tendai Maraire aka Fly guy Dai (one half of Shabazz Palaces duo) sounds adamant. And he has the digital mixtape to prove it. On ‘Pungwe’, Maraire “not so much brings African music to hip-hop, but rather strips back the facade of modern hip-hop to show the African roots that were always there” (according to the press release). Wanting to know more, and already warmed up to the demo by Chief Boima’s mixtape of the mixtape, we asked him to break down the tape track by track. Play it while you read Maraire’s notes. First, the cover of the mixtape:

A Toast to Frame and Ro.

I wanted to start the Digital Demo with the mbira instrument to lay the foundation musically that this is an African Hip-Hop movement. So I left it in there raw. In ghettos all over we all have friends that you grow up with that you wish would excel in their talents more. But before they’re even legally old enough to pay taxes or enlist, they’re forced to make life-changing decisions that never give them a fair chance to contribute their gifts to the world. Before twenty-one, they’re making six figures selling the product they were born addicted to. At twenty-five they catch a case and they have no chance to earn a decent living. At twenty-five, they learn how lucrative, crooked and deadly it is. By that time, it’s too late. Plus, you figure out who is behind that business. You feel the same as them. I’m just trying to get what I can based upon the hand I was dealt.

Boom.

I remember when Zimbabwe gained independence. My mother had a big party at the house in Seattle — with all her friends, Zimbabwean and American. My uncle, who fought in the guerrilla war against the white Rhodesian state, flew in weeks later. She started celebrating every year and even would get together with friends to sponsor groups from Zimbabwe to come and perform. Years later she focused more on performing, and non-Zimbabweans took over. They called it a Marimba festival and later transitioned it to Zimfest, which still exists. One year, my brothers and I went when my father was still alive living in Zimbabwe. After we came back, we saw that it had not represented our culture, history or the people indigenous to Zimbabwe. So we started flipping tables etcetera. The festival was stopped and dialogue started on how things needed to change. I promised that day to everyone that I would change it. See, Zimbabwean music has a rich story-telling history. Some songs have messages that are inappropriate for those of European descent to sing. But yet they still feel comfortable doing so even though Shona people feel this way. So ‘Boom’ is me throwing my first punch at those that still disrespect the music. While I touch on some subjects that personally affect me when they do it. Boom!

WhatUlukn@.

I am no stranger to illegal activity that affects our people in America. When I first came back to America, a kid named Serge and I where known as the African Booty Scratchers. I didn’t understand why people who looked like me were laughing at me. Even the ones that knew me before I left. I always felt that America saw us the same; not as African-American, Zimbabwean or even Black. Just Ignorant Negroes. As I got older my friends and I learned we’re all in the same social and economic positions. But I still had American friends who thought I felt better than them because I was Zimbabwean. And friends that were from Zimbabwe who thought I was better than them or lost my culture because I had a curl and wore Jordans. Then of course there was the police that I knew were crooked but never had a reason that they knew of to fuck with me. With this song, this is me just saying: why are you looking at me when I have shit to deal with too?

I Execute My Confidence.

When DJ Boima finished his blends on the mixtape, it had ‘Pitche Mi’ by Youssou N’Dour on it. I wanted to rap over it. I called Ish — and this is what came out.

We Need To Talk.

This track is about scenarios and conversations or arguments I went through with different women in the past while doing music. I’ve had several conversations about women with other artists and just wanted to express these thoughts. It’s really tough for an aspiring artist to work without a financial outcome from that work. Like Jean-Michel Basquiat kicking it with Andy Warhol. It usually never works out. But it did for me.

FU.

I think this speaks for itself.

How This All Started/Boy Wonder.

I just wanted talk a little bit about my story from a child to becoming a young adult. Writing helps me to deal with issues I don’t want to speak to people about. Then I grow up and mature from those matters I touched. Sometimes…

Like That…

Of course male black culture is always exploited as negative. As if there are no hard working brothas that are living a good life with their wife. They love to go to the club, hear black music and spend money celebrating who they are. I’m just expressing to black women that they should be proud of whom we are no matter the situation. Times are rough everywhere. So just let your man know you love him. Let him be him. He’s black and beautiful. Just like you.

Quarterblack.

For years the NFL quarterback has been looked at as the premier athlete in American sports. He gets the big deal, women and power to do what he wants when he wants. It took years for blacks to be a normal part of the draft discussion. I’ll never forget when Charlie Ward won the Heisman and led in almost every statistical category there was that year. He led Florida State to a national championship. This is just in honor of the black quarterbacks doing their thing today and how far they have come. Especially Mike Vick.

It’s Time For You To Go.

In 1994 our family visited Zimbabwe for the first time with our mother. At the time Biggie was just hitting the scene. We were driving down the street bumping ‘Juicy’. I remember we pulled up to a pick-up truck that had some uniformed workers in it. A white man was driving. Now imagine a mini van with young black kids — hats to the right, Gucci glasses — screaming in deep Biggie voices: it was all a dream! The workers looked at us like “shhhh.. Not good.” The white guy mugged but straightened up when we mugged back. Young Maraire Boys being crazy at home. I hung out the window and said “hay man if you don’t like it you can leave.” 

Days later we went to Victoria Falls by train. We were at the statue of Cecil Rhodes there. I remember talking to a white African guy who asked where we were from (he knew our American accents). I said Seattle. I asked him where he was from. He said, “We used to live in Zimbabwe and moved out to South Africa, we just stopped here before we go to our new home.” Now he was heading to Atlanta with his family. He was basically saying goodbye to Africa as a whole, moving to a whole new world of white culture.

It’s Alright.

Sometimes I write because I had a good day. Then I’m talking to a friend and they aren’t doing well. So I write their scenarios down and blend them all together. This time I just wanted to say everything is going to be all right.

The multi-named thumb piano is quite an important foundational instrument for contemporary music all over the world, although it’s perhaps not always recognized as such. In Congo, colonial era missionaries banned the instrument from their services, saying that its association with traditional spiritual practices sullied the sacredness of the choral music they were adopting to the musical cultures of the people they sought to convert. But, the instrument lived on in Congolese pop as guitarists in Kinshasa adapted the style to their finger picking Cuban-son infused Rumba. The instrument has also travelled far and wide beyond Africa. I’ve seen versions of the thumb piano in historical photos of Jamaican Mento bands, and it is common in Latin American musical history as well. I wouldn’t be surprised if a few thumb pianos made their way to the American South helping to influence the blues guitar style that originated there.

Today in the wake of the international stardom of such groups like Konono N˚1, the thumb piano has made somewhat of a resurgence in contemporary pop music. I tend to be wary of the exoticism that sometimes accompanies the flash popularity groups with strange traditional instruments, so it’s funny to me how much that same instrument has figured so centrally in my life recently.

For the past week I’ve been touring with Sierra Leonean Kondi virtuoso Sorie Kondi. He and bandmate Ibrahim finally arrived at my house last week after his Sierra Leone based producer Luke Wasserman and I spent several months working to bring Sorie to tour in the United States. Our initial intention was to structure the tour around the SXSW music festival in March, which we raised money on Kickstarter for, but the timing didn’t work out since the U.S. Immigration office waited until the last second to grant Sorie his visa. But, I have to say the wait was worth it as I’ve been having such a wonderful time with the Sorie Kondi crew this week.

My relationship with Sorie Kondi began one morning in Oakland, California when I saw a link to the video for his song “Without Money No Family” sent by my friend Banker White. I knew instantly that I wanted to remix his song: firstly because the sound of the recording was so sparse ready to remixed; secondly because I knew that a larger audience than those interested in Sierra Leone (literally 5.5 million of us) needed to know about the musical genius of this man; and third the intelligible English lyrics carried a social message that I knew audiences in the North could understand (and perhaps transcend ideas of exoticism). I found the album available on iTunes, downloaded it, remixed the song, and passed a rough version of it to a German DJ, who put it in a mix.

The unfinished draft of the remix sat on my hard drive for a couple years, until I received an email from Luke, who had been working with Sorie since 2007. Luke had helped Sorie record his album Without Money No Family, and was now looking for other opportunities to promote his music. They had just finished recording his second studio album at Big Fad studios in Freetown. I thought about remixing the album or coming to Sierra Leone to work on some original tracks with Sorie. Luke mentioned he wanted to bring Sorie to the U.S. for a tour, so at that moment the wheels to bring Sorie Kondi to America were set into motion. I finished the “Without Money No Family” Remix, put it on my release African in New York, and one kickstarter campaign, a couple visa applications, and a trip false start later, Sorie Kondi is in America.

So far we’ve played shows in Washington DC and Philadelphia where Sorie and Ibrahim wowed audiences with their Sierra Leonean version of cultural dance music. The event in DC, hosted by Mothersheister, DJ Rat, and DJ Underdog at Tropicalia was warm and welcoming, and the crowd danced the night away to Sorie’s Kondi and his bass box boom pumped up to sound like a House music club. The show in Philadelphia really made me sink into thoughts of blurring of the lines between traditional, folk, or world music and contemporary pop, electronic, or dance music. The venue was an old church in West Philadelphia, whose acoustics made the Kondi reverberate off the walls and back into itself creating waves of tones that sounded like the rising of arpeggiated synths. There was an impressive amount of sound coming from that small wooden box.

Beyond the amazing musical aspects, the cultural exchanges that happened on the road were inspirational in themselves. One highlight of the gig hosted by the Tropicalismo crew and Sonic Diaspora in Philly, were the exchanges that happened between the Sorie Kondi team and Colombians Explosión Negra who performed and partied with us late into the night on Saturday. While neither Sorie Kondi nor Explosión Negra could communicate through spoken language, and this separated the crews in every other space, on the dance floor it was a Champeta Soukous, Temne Techno, Chirimía Soca dance celebration! Not to harp too much on the cliché but it was really amazing to be part of a such a moment where the universality of music was so evident. I really believe that it is during these types of moments that this new lightweight and mobile, do-it-yourself global bass club scene (or whatever you want to call it) is at its best.

Sorie Kondi is in New York this week, and if you are a music lover of any genre, from folk to Techno (or like me, the amalgamations that blur the lines between them) then you don’t want to miss his performance at Public Assembly in Williamsburg Brooklyn this Saturday October 13th. We’ll be celebrating the release of Lamin Fofana’s Africans Are Real project (which I have a remix on as well) who will be performing live alongside Brooklyn rappers Old Money, and DJing will be Binyavanga Wainaina, Clive Bean, GiKu, Matt Shadetek, and myself:

If you miss that one, or you aren’t in New York this weekend check all of his tour dates on Vickie Remoe’s site.

The other major way the thumb piano has appeared in my life is in the Zimbabwean form, known as the Mbira, via Shabazz Palaces beat maker Tendai Maraire. Talk about pushing the boundaries between traditional and contemporary, Shabazz Palaces have been able to challenge music fans of all backgrounds with their mind blowing videos, inspiring live performances, and futuristic Hip Hop beats wrapped around Tendai’s skilled live percussion and Mbira playing. Sometime this summer Tendai called me up and said that he wanted me to do a mix for him after hearing some of my work. Just by coincidence the first mix of mine he listened to started out with the a plinking Mbira, and he said he knew right away that he knew he had found the DJ to work with.

After we discussed details of the project, I really took up the challenge to try and find any Mbira playing in the old records I have collected along the way, and may have not listened to that closely. I think the most exciting realization to make was that one record that I had once bought in the discount bin at Amoeba records in San Francisco (and later saw on sale in the premium section for $60 — I wondered, and still wonder why the vast price difference for the record) was in fact a record by Tendai’s father Dumi Maraire. This made both father and son’s music really come alive with brilliant historical context. The record I have seemed to have been from a live performance in Seattle a little after or around the time Tendai was born. The label on the record also describes the record as “Zimbabwe,” which is interesting because it was recorded at a time when Zimbabwe was still called Rhodesia. With that realization, the military-tinged images that Tendai paints in his lyrics suddenly start to fall into place for me:

When I try to do mixes I always try to base them around a central theme or concept. This one proved a challenge for me since I don’t know as much about Southern Africa as I do about West Africa. But I do know that music and a contentious politics from Mozambique to South Africa to Zimbabwe to Angola are intimately intertwined in a history of struggle against colonial rule and state-based violence. So, being an outsider to all that, all I could do was try to connect the dots across national boundaries to show how the cultures (and by extension the struggles) of Southern Africans are very much intertwined. In my record collection, I was able to find a bunch of Mbira related songs from across Southern Africa including Bonga (Angola), the Kasai All Stars (Congo), and DJ Sbu (South Africa). Of course there are plenty of Zimbabwean tracks from the likes of Thomas Mapfumo and Tendai’s father, Dumi! Lastly, I just included some of my favorite songs, like the ones from Khaled and Yossou N’Dour, that I thought fit well with Tendai’s original productions, which he in turn remixed to amazing results!

Tendai Maraire of Shabazz Palaces asked me to do a promo mix for his album Chimurenga Renaissance, and here it is! I really dig the beats from Shabazz Palaces and am really inspired by Tendai’s use of the Mbira, fusing forward-thinking Hip Hop beats with a tradition rooted in Shona culture (you have to see them live!). When he gave me a call one evening about this project, I jumped at the chance to do it.

When I try to do mixes I always try to base them around a central theme or concept. This one proved a challenge for me since I don’t know as much about Southern Africa as I do West Africa. But I do know that music and a contentious politics from Mozambique to South Africa to Zimbabwe to Angola are intimately intertwined in a history of struggle against colonial rule and state-based violence. So, being an outsider to all that, all I could do was try to connect the dots across national boundaries to show how the cultures (and by extension the struggles) of Southern Africans are very much intertwined.

I dug into my record collection to find a bunch of Mbira related songs from across Southern Africa including Bonga (Angola), the Kasai All Stars (Congo), and DJ Sbu (South Africa). Of course there are plenty of Zimbabwean tracks from the likes of Thomas Mapfumo, and the mix even includes a track from an album I happened to have of Tendai’s father, Dumi Maraire! Lastly I just included some of my favorite songs, like the ones from Khaled and Yossou N’Dour, that I thought fit well with Tendai’s original productions, which he in turn remixed to amazing results! I hope you enjoy what will hopefully be the beginnings of an exciting partnership!

Click album cover to D/L.

Shout-out to Serg for bringing this recent free drop to my attention. Producer/MC TraQ released this 7-song EP a couple days ago which is one of the best collections from The Town I’ve heard this year. The production is a dynamic mix of lush electronic soundscapes paired with hardcore boom-bap. It features area talent like Spaceman, Meez, Luke Rain, and JusMoni. The MVP, however, is that dude Khingz, who has the best bars by far on the battle-rap joint “I Go In.” Also of note is Tendai Maraire’s verse on “Glory,” where the Shabazz Palaces affiliate shows he’s more than just nice on the mbira. Stream and download for free below.