MUSIC (Nigerian): KJV's voice in Common Sense

In my post on Patoranking's song titled Make Am, I made the remarks that I reiterate below about the distinctive Nigerianness in KJV's song titled "Common Sense". I revisited those arguments in a piece that I later wrote, and in which I sought to pin down with some examples the particular features of what I understood to be The Nigerian Voice --  which I see as such a hugely consequential component an even larger voice: "the African Voice". 

Critics may of course want to be persuaded that there is indeed a unified African Voice, as opposed to a rich montage of Voices. Some may indeed push that argument to what may seem, to them, its logical conclusion. That is, by querying the very notion of a 'single' Nigerian Voice. But I'll soldier on, remembering that in our student days in the US, it was fairly easy to tell a Nigerian's voice apart from other West African voices -- and certainly from East African "ones". 

Here is what I said about KJV's "Common Sense":

"...one of the most attention-grabbing songs out of Nigeria right now (certainly to me), and which I think is distinctly Nigerian and truly accomplished in its vocal heaves and turns -- the kind we other Africans will hear, perhaps in a supermarket or on radio, and quickly say "That's Nigerian" -- is KJV's Common Sense (forget the awkwardly hilarious 'bedroom' shenanigans which we may blame on the story-line, but which might in turn be blamed entirely on a portion of the lyrics). It's such a memorable song."

You can tell from the lyrics (see the link below) that there's a unified theme in the video and the lyrics, and that it is, unsurprisingly, rather frivolous. But that's beside the point I'm making here. I'm talking about form, not content. My attention is more particularly drawn to the vocal (the audio) 'identity' (or markers) of the song that makes it so copiously representative of a genre I've called the Nigerian Voice. 

It is not just the accent, but you can't take accent out of the broader context of the song. Moreover, there is a big and inseparable chunk of it here. It is not just the lyrics, either; but the words are writ and voiced in an indubitably Nigerian tone. All of this is a matter of degree, of course -- between KJV's piece and what we hear in any selection from Olamide, Phyno, Wizkid, Don Jazzy, Davido, Patoranking, Kiss Daniel, Sugarboy, Korede Bello, Timaya and the like. But KJV voice stands out, and it is wondrously heavy-duty and relatively/infectiously 'unvarnished'. Hey, it's neither Ghanaian nor Congolese, nor South African, nor Tanzanian. It's not Kenyan, for sure. Far from it, in fact. And it's not Angolan (if you're thinking of C4Pedro), or Ugandan, or Togolese. It's not Cameroonian, either. Just listen to the singer's vocal rendition of these already very Nigerian lines:

"Jeje I dey eyeh nile alayo

The boys are happy 

And the girls are joyful 

Before you know oya 

We dey my place aha 

She take a selfie 

On top my bently"


Click to watch the Common Sense video

Here are the Lyrics for KJV's Common Sense

As I conclude, I want to say this: I'm sure that Nigerians in London can quickly tell a Nigerian voice when they hear one. In music, KJV's voice is distinctively such a one -- for me at least. Incidentally, KJV is shorthand for King Jiggy Vokal.


READ (for content): Thomas Paine's Letter/Post to Revolutionary Americans about "Common Sense"

Something About Haiku

I have posted a number of haikus on this blog. Many probably ask: What, really, is haiku? Well, here's a link to get you started: click here.

Another useful link, "Haiku of Kobayashi Issa", is here >> http://haikuguy.com/issa/index.html

Haiku has been described/labelled as a "one-breath poem". It is decidedly Japanese in origin, its rich history there going back several centuries, through which it has evolved appreciably. The essence of a haiku, written in Japanese, is that it is a seventeen-syllable poem in a 5-7-5 format. Many a Japanese haiku translated into English frame those 5-7-5 syllables in a three-line sequence. And that is the image that we have, those of us non-Japanese who write haiku. The Japanese haiku was traditionally a one-line affair, but times have changed (and places too).

It is difficult, though, for Japanese translations into English to maintain the 17-syllable mien, as you can discern in the translations that appear in the second link provided above. The English translations almost invariably have fewer syllables; since, experts note, the Japanese language tends toward the monosyllabic, and English toward the polysyllabic. Conversely, then, Japanese translations of English-language originals, and plenty of those are appearing every passing day in all sorts of places and sites (including Twitter), will usually appear to be on the higher side of -- that is, to violate -- the 5-7-5 rule. But as long as they are acknowledged as translations, this should not be a worry. Purists worry, though; and I detect that they would rather release those who dabble in Haiku-in-English from the "tyranny" of the rule, than see any haiku in the Japanese language, translated or "original", committing this hara... this error.

As I see it, however, the delightfulness, and the challenge, of the 5-7-5 format should not be missed or avoided just because a poet cannot communicate in Japanese -- or just because a poet cannot but communicates in English, or another language. There is enough poetic licence to get one through any jam. Let haiku be! Let it be 5-7-5 in any language!

I see that there is a tendency in many poets to write haikus without titles. That is something I personally avoid. Every child has a right to a name, we are told. Every haiku and every poem likewise.


P.S. (Monday, April 27, 2009):

Here is a Haiku in Swahili (with a Tanzanian accent) that I have written since this particular post was originally published last week.

Poromoko

Niri Tereza.
Dunia kitongoji.
Siku ri-zi-ka!

And here below is my English translation
of Poromoko, touched up using my poetic licence:

Found me on the skids.
The world's a marginal place.
I was not ass-u-aged!

[Alternatives to the last line: I was not satisfied
/I made no nothing / Day, be em-pow-ered]