ROCK MUSIC & WITCHCRAFT!

ROCK MUSIC & WITCHCRAFT! H[EAR] ON MUSIC by N. Arthur

The music video for Michael Jackson’s Black or White was released in 1991. Controversy was generated concerning the last four minutes of the original music video. Jackson walks out of the studio as a black panther and then morphs into himself. [View on YouTube] It helped usher in morphing as a new technology in music videos.

SAY What!? investigative journalist, N. Arthur, who has carried out extensive scientific studies of the band Murfy’s fLaW, reports on this morphing “technology”.

During my usual evening walk, the twilight light lit the street with a blue hue that brought to mind the ending of Michael Jackson video for Black or White.

Everyone says the Black Panther-Michael Jackson transformation was just camera tricks, but recently I have come to the realisation that this transformation can be done without any video manipulation.

My reporter instincts kicked in when, from the windows of a restaurant, I could heard a band playing what sounded like Murfy’s fLaW song Rumours.

I walked into the venue, and sure enough Murfy’s fLaW was playing. I immediately understoond why the song sounded different. Vicky was not drumming, someone else was there instead! The band went into a wild instrumental solo, and Reema, the lead vocalist leapt off the stage to mingle with the audience.

“Where is your drummer?” I managed to ask as she danced circles past me.

“Kanvar? He’s on stage, taking a solo,” Reema replied as she danced back, arriving on stage just in time to begin the a capella intro to All I Know.

But where did Vicky go? I wondered. As if in answer to my silent query, the stage was suddenly flooded in light as the instruments came back in full volume, riding on the syncopated beat of Vicky attacking the bass drum.

I was absolutely stunned. So, Vicky was drumming, what happened to Kanvar? I looked at the band, but they carried on playing, not seeming to notice that their drummer had magically transformed into someone else!

Luckily, I some lovely interent people sold me a genuine $100 degree from Cambridge University, A PhD in The Art of Being Scientific.  So before I jumped to conclusions, I knew I’d need proof. I set out to do this by asking myself a set of rigorous questions.

Q1. Do Kanvar and Vicky both play drums?

A1. Yes.

Q2. Have Kanvar and Vicky been seen playing drums for Murfy’s fLaw at the same time?


A2. No.

Based on this elaborate scientific methodology, I am now confident in believing that Kanvar and Vicky are the same person.

EDITOR'S NOTE: We are pleased to announce that SAY What!? investigative journalist, N. Arthur, has been nominated for the SAWA AWARD OF MUSIC JOURNALISM for his brilliant Investigative Reporting.

Superpowers: Episode 05

A couple of weeks back, I got to attend a Penya concert at the Museum. For those who don't know, Penya is a Nairobi-based based record label, home to (among others) Dela, Sauti Sol, Stan, Muthoni and Just a Band.

Anyway, the concert seemed to highlight everything I hate and love about record labels.

The Good of Record Labels:

When a band is it's own record label, the largest portion of time goes towards managing the gig. You make your own posters. Send out the advertisements. Harass your family and friends who owe you favours to show up. Beg random people off the street to come in for free. And then, you're checking. Is there power? Did the sound guy show up? Where is my guitar? Is it in tune? Where is the drummer? What's the song list?

By the time we get on stage, we're usually tired, frazzled, annoyed at each other, and whatever make-up we had on is falling off in large, unattractive chunks.

If, on the other hand, a band gets signed to a label the process is simpler: The artistes arrive. The artists do sound checks. The artists get to chill out and get adored by their fans. The artists play their set. And then, there's a party while the roadies pack up the drums and sound equipment.

Really, it seems like it must be awesome to not have to worry about crappy sound, crappier venues and no advertisement for shows.

The Ugly of Record Lables

Here was the show line up.

1. Just a Band
2. Muthoni
3. Stan
4. Dela
5. Sauti Sol

Now, don't get me wrong, since I'm actually a HUGE fan of Sauti Sol, but sometimes, I get the feeling that the other artists get sacrificed at the altar of Sauti Sol. I guess that their reasoning is that since Sauti Sol are the biggest earner, the other artists will forever remain curtain raisers for Sauti Sol? Plus, how good can this be for Sauti Sol either? At the Love Is Show, Sauti Sol finally got on stage at 1.30 am, at a show that started at 9pm. (AFter people had been standing around since 7pm, waiting for the show to begin).

So for 4.5 hours, people had been on their feet, in the cold, dancing, etc. By the time Sauti Sol got on stage, a couple of my pals had given up and gone home.

I braved the cold. The exhaustion. Slight deafness due to my position near the speakers. Alplha's performance. (Which actually wasn't bad. It's just that by that time, I was tired, and wanted to listen to "Nairobi" and Alpha just kept singing).

Then, finally, when Sauti Sol arrived on stage and began...

I fell asleep.

In the cold. Standing up. With the speakers blaring right next to me. And surrounded by shrieking fans. While Sauti Sol performed.

So yeah, I can sleep through anything.

Lovely super-power that one :-)

NB. If a major record label offers, I'm SO THOROUGHLY selling out and signing on.
NB2. These may not be the views of the rest of the band though.
NB3. I categorically state that I have never slept through a performance by Bloodshed, they're awesome.