I inherited my love for music from my Mother by a combination of both default and happenstance. Default? The thump of her heart introduced me to the most basic of life’s rhythms and kick started a love affair that would even today make cupid proud. Happenstance? By her own voice in song, be it in a mesmerizing lullaby or mimicking the tunes of her own youth - I grew up surrounded by music in arguably every conceivable form. A transplanted German in the remnants of British West Africa, disfranchised from family due her choice in marriage it is only as I grew older that I realized how therapeutic music must have been to her.

She listened to everything in a plethora of languages. From the Dominican Nuns, to Mozart to Tom Jones to the Nkwerre Women’s Aborigine Union Choir we heard it all. On LP played on the Grundig that dominated the living room with its potent presence, or on tape from the little Philips she carried around, our house was rarely quiet. I can close my eyes right now and still see her under the shade of our Frangipani tree marking the term papers of her Students from “Immaculate Heart Aba” in an almost Zen like state listening to something.

Maybe she knew it or maybe she didn’t but being surrounded by such an example and access to such a variety of sounds, would lay the foundation of “cultural relativity” in my life as well as trigger a need to constantly keep discovering new sounds and relive the great ones already found, over and over. Just as say Fela used music as his weapon, it is my refuge, my drug and my anesthetic that not only numbs my pain when things go bad but recharges my battery when it gets low.

The UN could learn at thing or 2 from my Mp3 player. It is the blue print for a perfect world. On it a Muslim like Ali Khan harmoniously co exists right next to say a Christian Chanter from the group “Enigma”, while rappers like “Biggie and Tupac” do what they could not do in real life - namely share the same file with total humility. Here race, tribe and politics are as inconsequential as shoe size, blood group or how you like your steak. Rather the criteria for existence are delicious rhythms, rich arrangements and potent verse. This is why say a “Chief” Osadebe can rest reassured right next to a “King” Sunny Ade without any breach of decorum or a descendant of a cotton picker like Maceo Parker next to the regal Youssou NDour.

Color me wrong. The Average White band played pure "Black" Funk

Named the Other Mozart Chevalier de Saint Georges refused to have his skin define his music

No passports or special visas needed. Ego simply does not exist. This is where soft spoken Norah Jones does not mind being sandwiched between boisterous Labelle or louder than life Amy Winehouse. Here our own local “Prince” Niko gets to rub shoulders even after his passing with the other Prince (The Artist Known as) known for his love of the color purple as well as pealing guitars.

The only Color’s of importance in Mp3 land are Blue, Red or Violet and those are the display options on how to see the details of the songs being played. Except for these minor restrictions, Europeans like UB40 can play “Black” Reggae with reckless bravado while the sons of Africa like Saint Georges or the Asian Yo Yo Ma can strum away the most complex Classical compositions on their violins with no eye brows raised.

Here I repeatedly shatter stereo types and misconceptions when I play the clip below of Charice Pempengco to people first with their eyes closed eyes, and then allowing them to see the singer for the first time. The result is almost always amusingly the same. A mish mash of stunned silence with a healthy sprinkling of “wow” all accompanied with the complimentary head shaking and very occasional “she’s got to be lip syncing” rebuttal – something I assure you she is not.

Don’t believe me? Well give it a try. Close your eyes click here . Don’t open them for circa 30 seconds and see if the impressions formed in your mind mirror what you see. Such is the power of music. Not only can it transform and shape shift with the freedom of the wind but when it is delivered with the potency as displayed above it is arguably the strongest bond in the world.

I believe it was Bob Marley who once wrote “One good thing about Music is that when it hits you feel no pain” and as absurd as it may sound I am glad to say that I have been hit several times and can remember vividly each and every sweet blow.

I had to pull my car into park off the New Jersey turn pike and sit stunned for minutes after hearing U2’s “One”. Moments before being slapped by a certain Ngozi in Class 2 during the YCS bash for dancing too cheekily, Fela had successfully hypnotized me with his rendition of “Lady”. Instantly after hearing Supertramp’s “Logical Song” I decided to become a writer and a guitarist after Hendrix’s Voodoo Child. Bonnie Raitt’s“I can’t make you love me” made me a better human being by inviting me into the heart of a woman who understands that her love will never be reciprocated the way it is given but accepts it. I left her the next day so she could find someone truly worthy of her love and not settle for 2nd best me. And in the midst of the coldest of winter storms Salif Keita’s Mandjou always reminds me of Africa’s sizzle and more often than not coaxes a fond smile to my face.

Finally while good music has no color a good listener should not be looking for it. He or she should be open minded and ready to accept what is being played at its worth. Not for a penny more and not for one less. Once we adopt this mantra and apply it to the rest of our lives we soon realize how music makes us all better people. The sooner you learn this the better.

Robot  # 1 | 11.12.2007 14:54

I inherited my love for music from my Mother by a combination of both default and happenstance. D...Read the full article.

denker  # 2 | 12.12.2007 06:04

Don’t believe me? Well give it a try. Close your eyes click here . vow..vow....words failed me here....she is reincarnation of creativity, perfection and purity of creation....wonderfull...wonderful! ...man, i love your writeup...thanks!

Eja  # 3 | 12.12.2007 06:14

Good write up indeed, however, I have to confess: drugs are my drug.

Kelechi  # 4 | 12.12.2007 06:54

Reeling out those names like Iwedi has done simply evoke so much nostalgia and take you on memory lane. Reading this piece reminded me of the days of innocence and naivety regarding true human nature. It also links in so well with idealism and the tendency for young people to easily pontificate on a world of peace, love, harmony, etc. It was like listening to good evergreen music.

Oloye  # 5 | 12.12.2007 09:00

=Eja;4294971719>Good write up indeed, however, I have to confess: drugs are my drug. Eja, which drugs and where can I get some?

SUYA  # 6 | 12.12.2007 10:54

Eja and Oloye Drug Pass Drug O ! :lol: But a little hemp with some Burning Spear or Marley has been known to cure many an illness especially if it is Asaba green.:D Thanks everyone for your kind words.

Eja  # 7 | 12.12.2007 11:15

Oloye, I like dis your innocenti style O. Like say you no know where Sharp Corner dey :wink:...abi na test you wan test me? OK now, I go answer you like say you no know...drug depend on diagnosis. Sometimes na only gworo wit viagra get de cure and sometimes na horse tranquiliser wit two pint of formaldehyde. Formaldehyde also good for de seasoning of igbo or hair...and dem ogbologbo bin tell me say de best hair to smoke na hair wey come from.....kai!! na small e remain make I expose biiig secret... Suya, I hear you....and I no doubt de potency of Asaba green, but mai buroda, you don hear of Aiye Ekiti bifor? Man wey never smoke go tink say na only one road enter de town but, after man shak, you go see like 13 oder road....dat one no be parable or proverb O, na fact. Burning Spear!!! Yes O, dat one bring back some goooood memories.

SUYA  # 8 | 12.12.2007 13:44

Eja Formaldehyde ke? Tufiawka !!!:rolleyes: Isnt that what they call love bolt on the East Coast ???? I know ur type of bobo. Demm full my village. Na unna dey take moth balls wack Cornflakes just to do nyanga. :lol: On a serious note all hemp grown along the Equator is potent but Asaba green is as famous In Europe as Bonny Light. In Holland it is among the top 3 and if there is one thing the Dutch know its about Tulips, wooden shoes and "Greens".

mulan  # 9 | 12.12.2007 13:53

=SUYA;4294971883>Eja Formaldehyde ke? Tufiawka !!!:rolleyes: Isnt that what they call love bolt on the East Coast ???? I know ur type of bobo. Demm full my village. Na unna dey take moth balls wack Cornflakes just to do nyanga. :lol: On a serious note all hemp grown along the Equator is potent but Asaba green is as famous In Europe as Bonny Light. In Holland it is among the top 3 and if there is one thing the Dutch know its about Tulips, wooden shoes and "Greens". Suya, I read your article yesterday and forgot to leave a comment cos once I heard that girl, I had to hear more. The names you reeled out in the article took me a good journey down the lanes of my musical sensory overload. Now I come to leave a comment and what do I see? Talk of 'asaba green' among others? Na wa for you guys sha but I have to say I can vouch for the green of my town. That green is potent no be small.... ps shey you are talking of green 'amaranthus' vegetable?:D

tonsoyo  # 10 | 12.12.2007 14:31

=Eja;4294971719>Good write up indeed, however, I have to confess: drugs are my drug. Which kin drug? Phensic abi na Panadol? Cest nes pas Panadol! Is that why your name be Eja? because some people dey call dat thin Eja. Anyway you just det do shakara your highest drug na Tylenol.:D

---

The conversation continues in our forum. Click here to read all comments

---