The social self has always been much more extensive, much more fluid, in time and space, than the physical -- or the personal. Social media are only the latest attempts to underscore this fact. Structures of government and bureaucracy preceded them. Religion and witchcraft preceded all that 'Governmentality'. Storytelling did too. Likewise all that genealogical stuff. Like Roots. What a dreary life we would have if all we had were our flesh and bones -- and blood and sweat and tears. No extensions whatsoever. But, thankfully, we have affinities. We communicate. We have memories. And imaginations. And aspirations. We take many forms, despite our physiological limitations. We know we are not alone -- and not the only one(s). Alone, neither the Self nor the Other endures -- in his or her or the Other's eyes. Nor is the social self necessarily a socialist. It is the unfinished selfie in which friends, dear ones and random others and places and things always appear, and with time quietly fade away -- only to be replaced by others, or none at all. 1. CLICK TO SEE THIS: What Charles Horton Cooley's scholarly self thinks that he thinks is his original thought about the social self
2. And see what George Herbet Mead says:
"The “I” of introspection is the self which enters into social relations with other selves. It is not the “I” that is implied in the fact that one presents himself as a “me. “ And the “me” of introspection is the same “me” that is the object of the social conduct of others. One presents himself as acting toward others – in this presentation he is presented in indirect discourse as the subject of the action and is still an object,– and the subject of this presentation can never appear immediately in conscious experience. It is the same self who is presented as observing himself, and he affects himself just in so far and only in so far as he can address himself by the means of social stimulation which affect others. The “me” whom he addresses is the “me,” therefore, that is similarly affected by the social conduct of those about him." (Read more).
Kanda Bongo Man's music, so well exemplified by Yolanda, is, stylistically, an important link or milestone in the progression of African music -- integral to which is, inescapably, Congolese music -- in the last 65+ years or so; that is, in the period from the late Fifties to now -- the middle of the second decade of the 21st century. The usual criteria/aspects of interest when tracking this change are, in broad terms: voice, sound and optics. That is, how voice and sound fuse, what body texts interpret (so to speak) this fusion and how far they go in doing so, and how all of this carries the baton of creativity from Yolanda's past to its time and place and on to its future -- that is, to our "present" and well beyond. Yolanda is thus to be seen as a genealogical artifact of sorts, which we are happy to have in our hands. It is a window on the past of now, but not the only window -- and not the only artifact we have from Kanda or his artistic contemporaries. It is, to be sure, a Golden that's not quite yet, perhaps, Oldie for some. There's much to be said about all that it represents, and others likewise do, in time and space, but the time to do so in any detail is not quite now. All I want to say right now is that Yolanda is a precursor -- if perhaps by default or long-winded and fuzzy influence -- for what the younger artistes of the present decade are crafting and giving us by way of so many permutations and combinations, and departures. Suffice it to add that the fine melody we hear here is typical Kanda. The fluid dance moves of the man -- the body and soul synchrony -- are signature Kanda. Kanda's never-say-die spirit is solid sapeur. His sartorial sensibilities are pure sapeur. And his supporting cast of supple bodies are a firm and charmed bough in the sturdy family tree of African dance. Take a listen, take a look.
