2 Comments
Put away the irony. Clear a drawer for the ’80s kitschy nostalgia. “Weird” Al Yankovic must be taken seriously. Sure, he might have spent his life . . .
In 1969, Albert Mazibuko had the same rights as dirt.
As a black man under apartheid in South Africa, he couldn’t vote, couldn’t marry outside of his race, couldn’t even travel without official permission.
Sometime that year, Mazibuko’s cousin, Joseph Shabalala, asked him to sing in his group, Ladysmith Black Mambazo. The group borrowed heavily from a style of soft a capella singing called isicathamiya (is-cot-a-ME-Ya), which was born in the mines of South Africa.
Now, nearly 40 years later, LBM’s trajectory has often mirrored that of their native country – from the hopeless depths of apartheid to a freedom sometimes marred by violence.
Caetano Veloso is in a tight spot. It’s December 27, 1968 and the Brazilian musician and activist is arrested and taken to army headquarters at Marechal Deodoro in Rio de Janiero where his long hair is forcibly shaven.
Brazil’s military dictatorship doesn’t like him much. He is outspokenly leftist, which generally doesn’t go over well with dictatorships. But the country’s socialist left wing doesn’t like him much either because he integrates non-nationalist influences like rock ‘n’ roll into his music. So, Veloso goes into exile in London.
Hugh Masekela has seen a bit of it all.
Growing up in South Africa, the trumpet player used music as an act of defiance against apartheid. He went into exile in New York City in the 1960s, recorded a number one hit (“Grazing in the Grass”) and watched Jim Crow and segregation crumble in America. He married the South African singing legend Miriam Makeba and returned to South Africa to play with Paul Simon on the “Graceland” tour. He watched apartheid crumble, writing music for Nelson Mandela. In between, he toured the world many times while making music that can be searing, romantic, political and joyful all at once.