Gengepress by Kamwangi Njue (7Headc0), Raphael Kariuki (DJ Raph)

Gengepress

Remix

Both curators of the Norient City Sounds: Nairobi Special, Kamwangi Njue (7Headc0) and Raphael Kariuki (DJ Raph), are active in the Nairobi underground electronic scene, and both are residents at the weekly Mist night in Westlands where they try to showcase local talent and different sounds from around the world. In this compilation, both worked on music and sounds by fellow Nairobi-based producers, distilling hours of conversation between Thomas Burkhalter and the selected artists from early 2020 into this collection of remixes. The conversations touched topics such as music production and sonic fiction, most of them focusing on gengetone, a hip hop and dancehall influenced mainstream genre, originated in Nairobi.

01 DJ Raph: «Complete Faith»
remixed words by Blinky Bill

Gengepress by DJ Raph

Blinky Bill shares a deep-felt and poignant reminder of hope, in this minimal sketch.

«And when I see Kenyans who are exceptional, they’re really exceptional by any standard, that keeps me motivated that there’s people who’ve not lost complete faith in the system and they’re operating outside the system and trying to make things work.»

– Blinky Bill

Follow Blinky Bill on Instagram, Spotify, or SoundCloud. Based on an interview by Thomas Burkhalter, conducted on March 3, 2020.

02 Kamwangi Njue – On Playing Gengetone
remixed words by Coco Em

Gengepress by Kamwangi Njue

Coco Em, who has her first self produced EP out now, analyses gengetone from a DJ perspective and as a listener. She deconstructs its «crass» tendencies as that which mirrors the society and also criticizes the genre’s musicians for sticking to the same topics of sex and parties, when they could explore more diverse topics in their lyrics.

«It’s like they’re not treating the women very well. A lot of the time it’s confused with empowerment, I feel like. I’ve been told several times not to slut shame. If she wants to twerk in a thong on the tree. Let her do her thing.»

«So there’s a lot of confusion as well. But I will be careful what I want to attach myself to or what I want to play or to push and stuff.»

– Coco Em on playing gengetone in a DJ set

Emma Nzioka aka Coco Em, is a Nairobi-based DJ/producer, photographer, and filmmaker. She has a passion for music, activism, and creating communities based around these interests. Through her work in film and music, she has been blessed to connect with audiences from Uganda, South Sudan, South Africa, Morocco, Niger, Tunisia, Rwanda, Tanzania, France, Canada, and Switzerland. Follow her on Instagram, Facebook, Twitter, Spotify, or SoundCloud.

Based on an interview by Thomas Burkhalter, conducted on March 5, 2020.

03 DJ Raph: «Gengepress»
remixed words by Hitman Kaht

Gengepress by DJ Raph

Hitman Kaht is a top gengetone producer with hits such as «Wabebe» to his credit. This remix messes around with a gengetone break by Kaht, with an excerpt from his conversation with Thomas Burkhalter.

«I don’t think that there’s a need to criticize this music because the music is actually doing more good than harm. I have said before, the youths are unemployed. They don’t have anything to do. Now we want to put some music out and it’s working for us. They’ve created an opportunity for themselves to feed themselves and have a future. That’s the only perspective you should look at if from. If now you don’t want us to do music what else because there are no jobs also. People might end up in drugs and violence; that’s worse. I think it’s just a good thing. We should not really hate it.»

– Hitman Kaht on gengetone criticism

Follow Hitman Kaht on Instagram, Twitter, or Spotify.

Based on an interview by Thomas Burkhalter, conducted on March 3, 2020.

04 DJ Raph: «Fuck Police Everywhere»
remixed words by 7Headc0

Gengepress by DJ Raph

Kamwangi Njue (7Headc0) is a writer, producer, and DJ based in Nairobi. This remix is inspired by a conversation about sonic fiction, his area of artistic practice. It imagines an other world, but one with familiar struggles.

«Kodwo Eshun wrote this book ‹More Brilliant Than the Sun›. He’s talking about what’s beyond what you’re listening to. What goes on when you hear a sound?»

«You know what they say? Fuck police everywhere, not just a song. The way the governments are structured is just messy and with police and police, police, policies.»

– Kamwangi Njue

«Music, conversely, involves manipulation in the generation and arrangement of sounds for the purposes of contrivance, performance, fantasy, fictions – alternative realities.»

– Adam Harper discussing Kodwo Eshun’s ideas in Norient

Follow Kamwangi Njue (7Headc0) on Instagram, Twitter, or Bandcamp.

Based on an interview by Thomas Burkhalter, conducted on March 2, 2020.

05 7Headc0: «My Name Is»
remixed words by Jinku

Gengepress by 7Headc0

Jinku is one of the first names you encounter in the Nairobi alternative music scene. He is one fifth of the collective EA Wave. In the original interview that served as a basis for this track, he reflected on sampling, arrangement, and software. He says that he appreciates the details in almost everything.

In the few seconds voice interpolation sampled from the interview, the phrase «My Name Is...» is looped until the track’s end. The song’s bouncy drum pattern follows a two bar piano loop sample, the kick’s insistence almost leaves one probing for their own name.

The name behind the moniker Jinku is Jacob Solomon. He’s a Nairobi-based graphic designer and musician and conceives of himself as an all-around creative. Follow him on Instagram, Facebook, Twitter, Bandcamp, Spotify, or SoundCloud.

Based on an interview by Thomas Burkhalter, conducted on February 26, 2020.

06 7Headc0: «Happy Songs»
remixed words by Moroko Kalahari

Gengepress by 7Headc0

As a pioneer of a niche freestyle steez1 in Nairobi, Moroko Kalahari’s consistency in the recording studios of Kibera2 and his legacy position him at a peculiar place. He is connected gengetone through his young contemporaries, rappers who look up to him skillswise. With different gengetone styles from every hood, Moroko speaks on Kibera gengetone aesthetics in particular. In the interview that served as a basis for this track, he took the role of a big brother and spoke on music and politics.

«We don’t like to go all the way out politically. Although, Kibera is a really political, sensitive location to do music from.»

«On the gengetone, gengetone is really when you look at the music. It’s about... Yeah, it’s sex music. But Kibera gengetone is different from Nairobi, the other side of Nairobi gengetone, because we are not explicit. Because your friend is Muslim, your girlfriend maybe is Muslim. So, we have that amount of respect.»

– Moroko Kalahari on Kibera’s gengetone

Moroko Kalahari is a Nairobi-based emcee, musician, and visual artist. He used to rip out mics at freestyles sessions around the globe. His live performances are still some of the dopest around and his versatility continues to show and blend in hip hop, gengetone, and its subgenres. Follow him on Instagram or Twitter.

Based on an interview by Thomas Burkhalter, conducted on February 27, 2020.

07 7Headc0: «Touch in Time»
remixed words by MR. LU*

Gengepress by 7Headc0

From the sample material, MR. LU* speaks of different worlds in Nairobi music that he’s part of. Histories bounce off one another as he locates himself within the city sound. Mostly influenced by Matatu3 culture, he gives props to his crew XPRSO and his friends, and the Nairobi Ableton community which he has, together with the artist KMRU, helped to see through. As a sample-based producer, MR. LU* breaks down his sampling and chopping processes and defends sampling as a technique and an art of preservation. He speaks of his hope for artists to change society.

«And we always try to create music that simulates that. And another influence, we mainly take influence from elements in the city and just in our own lives. And we try to put that in song.»

«So I feel like most artists in this world could bring a lot of change and they reflect a lot of what happens in society. And I feel like we should all just listen to our little voice inside that brings change.»

– MR. LU*

MR LU* is an audio-visual artist based in Nairobi and he has a four member music and genre and culture collective. They call themselves XPRSO. Follow him on Instagram, Twitter, Bandcamp, Spotify, or SoundCloud.

Based on an interview by Thomas Burkhalter, conducted on March 6, 2020.

1. Another word for «style», popular in hip hop slang.
2. According to Wikipedia, Kibera is the largest urban slum in Africa.
3. Popular public transport buses in Nairobi.

These remixes are part of the virtual exhibition «Norient City Sounds: Nairobi» curated and edited by Raphael Kariuki and Kamwangi Njue.

Biography

Raphael Kariuki, aka djrPH, is a Nairobian electronic musician, sound artist, and DJ. He is a resident DJ and curator at The Mist, Nairobi’s first venue dedicated to underground and experimental music. His latest EP, hope/currency, is a collaboration with the spoken-word artist Kins of Spade. Raph is a long-time collaborator with Norient. In 2022, he curated the online publication «Norient City Sounds: Nairobi» together with author and writer Kamwangi Njue. Follow him on Instagram, Mixcloud, Bandcamp, SoundCloud, or Facebook.

Biography

Kamwangi Njue is a multidisciplinary artist, writer, and experimental beatmaker working with artists and others from Nairobi, Kenya. He has developed, participated, and delivered a range of collaborative projects and events including performances, shows, exhibitions, texts, and readings. For Norient, he curated the virtual exhibition «Norient City Sounds: Nairobi» in 2022. Follow him on LinkedIn, and Bandcamp.

Links

Raphael Kariuki: «Portrait of a Young Man» (Norient)

Thomas Burkhalter: «Nairobi’s Next Generation Music Producers and Performing Artists Speak Out» (Norient)

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Gengepress

€6.00

Nairobi-based artists Kamwangi Njue (7Headc0) and Raphael Kariuki (DJ Raph) remixed conversations between seven Nairobi musicians and Norient’s Thomas Burkhalter, resulting in this compilation album.

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Portrait of a Young Man

€4.00

A remixed profile of young Nairobi-based DJ/producer Victor Munyasya, an exciting newcomer to the city’s electronic scene. Baring his soul in this abridged interview, he challenges the need for false identities and the social pressures behind it.

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NairobiConscious

€6.00

Not your usual matatu ride. New flow from Kalamashaka OG’s Roba and Githingithia. New sounds from Nyokabi, Kaharibu Records, Al-Shaverb, and names you’ve never heard before. We hope this compilation of music by our friends takes you to interesting and unexpected places.

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Published on May 06, 2022

Last updated on August 25, 2022

Topics

Mainstream

Music Production

Sampling

Utopia

Youth

All Topics

Special

Norient City Sounds: Nairobi

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Norient Mixtape #3: Chart-Toppers and TikTok Appropriations from Mexico

Playlist

by Thomas Burkhalter

Peso Pluma, IAMTRA$H, Mabe Fratti? On this mixtape, Mexican and «Mexican» artists face each other who will probably never be friends in real life. Some sing about drug cartels and male fantasies and are high up in the international charts. The others produce Mexican Phonk streaming hits for TikTok on their computers – and are not from Mexico at all. Yes, the debate about cultural appropriation is far away. No, your stereo isn’t broken. And, never forget! The artists from the various exciting niche scenes in Mexico and the diaspora play at international festivals. Have fun in the «Mexico» of today. Explicit Lyrics.

Tracklist

Los Pream: «Lekixi Ejts»
Gabito Ballesteros, Natanael Cano: «Lou Lou»
Fuerza Regida, Marshmello: «Harley Quinn»
Peso Pluma, Tito Double P, Joel De La P: «La People II»
Clave Especial: «Kalashnikov»
RedRubix, TAS: «Trompete Phonk»
IAMTRA$H, sma$her, TRA$HCANDY: «Krushphonk»
IAMTRA$H, TRA$HCANDY, sma$her: «Danza Mortal»
NUEKI, TOLCHONOV: «Mexican Phonk Eki»
Negraconda: «La Inconforme»
CHZTER, mikeboi: «Bubalu»
League of Legends, LIT killah: «Mi Clan»
Lukro, Baja Frequencia: «Baile G»
Peso Pluma, Arcangel: «Peso Completo»
That Mexican OT: «Cowboy In A Escalade»
Dro Fe, NARCOWAVE: «Super Peligro»
El Moreno Mexicano: «En La Movida»
Mare Advertencia Lirika, Tayhana: «ReSURreccion»
Bu Cuaron: «Viceversa»
Blu Fiefer: «Nazele Big Champagne»
Mabe Fratti: «Todo Lo Que Querias Saber»
Silvana Estrada: «Milagro y Desastre»
Amor Muere: «Violeta y Malva»
Felix Blume: Various Field Recordings

Extended Playlist

Listen to an extended playlist on Spotify that will be updated with each new edition of the Norient Mixtape.

The mixtape is produced by Thomas Burkhalter, for Swiss National Radio SRF3. For more context read this background article by Claudio Landolt.

Links

Mabe Fratti: «When the Sound Listens Back from Mexico» (Norient)

Helena Simonett: «Der Bandit, der Held und der Narco» (Norient)

Helena Simonett: «Drogen-Kultur oder Unkultur? » (Norient)

Elijah Wald: «The Voice of the Mexican People» (Norient)

Jorge Verdin: «Social Status Counts » (Norient)

Published on April 25, 2024

Last updated on August 21, 2024

Topics

Appropriation

Exotica

Mainstream

Place

All Topics

Special

Norient Playlist

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Nairobi Now: The Freedom of Love and the Love of Freedom

Essay

by Joyce Nyairo

Political and social commentary are not the exclusive domain of so-called «conscious music». In this essay, cultural analyst Joyce Nyairo examines the content of popular «love» songs and pop in Nairobi for what they say about power relations, sex politics, and economic realities of the city. The best place to find the real values of a people may yet be in their popular, «commercial» music, she argues.

Some time in 2009 (or was it 2008?) I was at a Ford Foundation grantee meeting hosted by the School of Journalism at the University of Nairobi, when a member of the then nubile Sauti Sol, Willis Austin Chimano, I believe, made the declaration that his group was the first Kenyan band to record socially-conscious music. I gasped. If I remember correctly, I wasn’t very successful in hiding my dismay as I flagged the definitive record of Gabriel Omolo’s 1972 blockbuster hit, «Lunch Time» for its portrayal of economic injustice in the city. Watching the clock, I withheld my interpretation of the potential for revolution contained in a military band trumpet blaring in 1976 that «city life is tough and food expensive» (Maroon Commandoes, «Charonyi ni Wasi»).

I am not sure of the extent to which a lack of awareness of one’s predecessors affects the making of new music. Certainly, the opportunities for remixes, sampling, and cover versions will be missed, but in what other ways might the music made today suffer a deficit from not knowing what was made before it? Socially conscious music is not simply born of an awareness of the times in which we live, it must reflect an understanding of the roots of injustice and the ways in which our art has, over time, engaged with those injustices. When has this art succeeded in defining injustices in memorable ways, in projecting better tomorrows; and when has it failed to resonate with our popular struggles?

Commentaries on Class and Gender

Today’s popular struggles, if social media debates are anything to go by, center a lot on difficulties in romantic relationships and popular hits echo these concerns. One of the biggest hits from 2021 is Bensoul’s «Nairobi». Is Bensoul singing about a new phenomenon or is he giving us a new grammar with which to grasp our age-old circumstances of win and lose in the game of love? Watching the official music video, and listening keenly to the song’s lyrics, I find connections to several hit songs from our yesteryears, like Sam Kahiga’s «Suga Mami» (1974), Nguashi N’timbo’s «Shauri Yako» (1983), Freshly Mwamburi’s «Stella» (1992) and Sammy Muraya’s «Mama Kiwinya» (2000).

As markers of a fast-urbanizing Kenya, these songs echo and reinforce gender relations that Bensoul’s «Nairobi» amplifies, however unconsciously. Their tone might be cynical as in the case of Kahiga and Bensoul, filled with moral outrage in the way of Muraya, or marked by dismay and defeat in the way of «Stella» and «Shauri Yako», but without exception, these ballads of love betrayed are commentary on class and gender.

Great lyricists bring to their art a fresh take, a progressive argument, on an old conversation. Bensoul’s «Nairobi» is an old take, a recycled prejudice, on heterosexual romance. It plays within the cultural norms of policing and censuring women’s desire to the point where men can prey, define the agenda, and retain the power in relationships. In Kahiga’s «Suga Mami» and Muraya’s «Mama Kiwinya» the women are cast as aberrations to the social order because they are older than their male lovers. Likewise, Bensoul’s «Nairobi» limits a woman’s desire, this time to a single male partner. It is a ballad aimed at stroking the egos of men and inciting them to be dominant in relationships far more than it is a discussion of fair-play in romance.

Was «Nairobi» a response to Bensoul’s earlier number, «Lucy» (2019)? If skewed gender roles underline Bensoul’s «Nairobi», made worse by the official music video where a man is bathed by his female lover, in «Lucy» Bensoul asserts a woman’s freedom to choose.

Lucy, I love you
Lakini kama tuko wengi (if you have other suitors)
Tusilazimishe, tusilazimishe penzi
… Don’t force it, don’t force it

In the face of fast-rising numbers of femicide across the country one might be forgiven for rushing to embrace «Lucy» as an anthem for the anti-Gender-Based Violence movement. Within that movement, Eric Wainaina’s «Selina» – from his 2011 album Love and Protest – is something of a holy grail, providing words to live by when lovers quarrel, «Hio si heshima, watu wazima huongea» (that’s a lack of respect. Adults talk/discuss).

Misadvice, and Worse

Reflecting on social movements and their need for anthems to popularize a cause brings to mind Sauti Sol’s «Nerea» (2015). The song revisits one of the most divisive issues in national debate that led to the passing of the Constitution of Kenya, 2010. I do not know the story behind this song, whether the pro-life/anti-abortion movement funded it at any point in its making and marketing, but I do know that as far as social consciousness goes, «Nerea» misses the mark. A boy band halting an abortion by exploiting promises steeped in religious faith – «Mungu akileta mtoto, analeta sahani yake» (When God brings a child, He brings her plate too) – smirks of shirking responsibility.

Coming from a boy band, «Nerea» should have placed greater emphasis on fatherhood, a demonstration of men stepping up as fathers who bear the burden, mould, protect, and nurture, beyond the two-word order given to the song’s title character and woman in question, Nerea, «mlete nitamlea» (bring her/him, I will raise her/him). That nitamlea promptly loses the commitment of providing for the child in the very next line, which assigns God this work of resource provision.

The song falls even more flatly because in the very next stanza it burdens the child with growing up into greatness as a justification for being born. So, if one can’t grow, against numerous odds, to be a Mandela, Makeba, Obama, Lupita, and so on, one doesn’t deserve to be born?

Beyond worries about providing for a child, why might Nerea want an abortion? The song’s limited point of view gives her desires no voice. Perhaps she wanted to remain in school, or travel the world, or get married. Maybe she didn’t like her lover's face or genes, or maybe she has no desire to be a mother, ever. Her freedom is spurned over that of a potential Mandela.

Reimagining Freedom

My focus here on Nairobi’s love songs is a deliberate attempt to avoid the age-old trap of linking protest music to genres. Reggae, hip hop, genge, and spoken word are habitually thought of as the headquarters of lyrical political consciousness so that what King Kaka, Juliani, and Octopizzo sing is more readily seen as protest music, while Afro-fusion love ballads and so-called gospel music pass off as safe messages of love and faith. But because love songs reflect our deepest humanity, we must always interrogate them for the way they frame relations and define selflessness, multiple freedoms, and justice.

In the same way, thinking through gospel songs – like Nyashinski’s «Mungu Pekee» (2016) – might reveal more than the local artiste’s need to generate audiences by switching genres. In «Mungu Pekee», we hear more than a God-imbued fight against greed, gossips, and other threats. Beyond the protagonist’s boasts of securing the bag, we hear an analysis of everyday struggles in a low-trust economy: «sina kesi mahakamani au deni za majirani» (I have no cases before the courts nor debts owed to neighbours). The unspoken query, «why must life be so hard?» lingers. To be sure, Nyashinski does not denounce impunity with the ferocity of Juliani («Machozi ya Jana» [Yesterday’s Tears], 2017) or King Kaka («Wajinga Nyinyi» [You Fools], 2019), but he does invite questions that cannot be answered by bluster and mere allegiance to Christian faith.

Do we place too much reliance on decidedly obvious protest music to steer liberation? At the end of 2019, I argued that the passionate reception of «Wajinga Nyinyi» would peter out rather than instantaneously galvanize a revolution not least because his outward-pointing contempt squandered the chance to galvanize solidarity by saying sisi (us) rather than nyinyi (you). How could this expletive become our new idiom of freedom?

Protest music demands social change, it crystallizes the ideology of reform movements. If its lyrics engender solidarity and hope that can be transferred to a variety of struggles, and if its melody allows others to add new lyrics, a protest song can become a transformational classic.

The classic that will lift our consciousness beyond this rut of me-first and me-only values that define our society at every turn – in the way Wainaina’s «Nchi ya Kitu Kidogo», Gidi Gidi Maji Maji’s «Unbwogable», and the context-adapted hymn, «Yote Yawezekana» steered us to the end of the Moi regime – will be one whose score stirs the memory of old protests and whose poetry redefines the commitment to fairness and to doing good that we all yearn for in love, and in public life. But revolutions are not spontaneous soliloquies. Revolutions are choreographed orchestras driven by clear strategies and dogged forces. Therefore, the song that will drive our next moment of freedom will need the backing and promotion of geniuses in the work of social networking.

This article is part of the virtual exhibition «Norient City Sounds: Nairobi» curated and edited by Raphael Kariuki and Kamwangi Njue.

Playlist with Mentioned Pop Songs

Biography

Joyce Nyairo, PhD, is a cultural analyst. She has taught at Moi University and worked as a consultant for organizations such as the Goethe Institute, UNESCO, UNDP, and more, besides writing regularly on Art and Culture for Kenya’s leading newspaper, the Nation. Follow her on LinkedIn, and X.

Published on May 06, 2022

Last updated on August 25, 2022

Topics

Desire

Gender

Mainstream

Protest

All Topics

Special

Norient City Sounds: Nairobi

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