So what do I mean when I say "world music?" Certainly, the term must conjure some measure or response: generally acoustic, non-English vocals, using Eastern or African instruments. Basically, world music is characterized as being cultural folk music from the developing world. It's...not a great term (see the note on Western exceptionalism above), one, because it's a little derogatory, and two, because it's far too general and includes an extreme diversity of sounds: Tuvan throat singing, Zimbabwean guitar, Sufi, and I have to stop now because the list is pages long.
In the American mind (and subsequently, the Western mind), world music was introduced to us through already popular Western artists: Peter Gabriel's "Biko", Paul Simon's Graceland, and David Byrne's entire solo career (not the Brian Eno stuff, just...forget that). In reality, the term is a euphemism created by the industry in order to make "foreign" music sound less threatening to middle America. But no matter what you think of the term, it has become a staple in the classification of genres, so we continue to use it.
The "case" I'm trying to make is not one saying that world music is good. Obviously, people like Gabriel and Simon have stated that case and made it painfully obvious already. I simply wish to make the argument that you should listen to it. "Good" is subjective, and those titans of the industry merely skimmed the surface in their releases, in order to incorporate the sounds into what would otherwise be pop music. So let's talk about actual international releases...
We'll start with a perpetual Conquest of Gaul favorite, Ibibio Sound Machine. ISM is a British-Nigerian highlife band that bases their sound on the 70s- and 80s-Nigerian disco movement that was spearheaded by the great, prolific William Onyeabor. (I've written multiple reviews of ISM's music, one of them including an entire dissection of Onyeabor's "Fantastic Man" and its use in American commercials. It's a thing, look it up, you've heard it before.)
There's no need to really delve into ISM, if only because they've been covered at length on this site previously. I bring them up instead to suggest that they are a fantastic gateway into world music. Their dance-able combination of new wave synths, disco horns, and funk rhythm section includes lyrics written and sung in Ibibio (where the band gets the name), a prominent language of Nigeria.
The thing with the "scary" wall over which you must climb to "understand" world music, is that it's not real. The hurdle is entirely made of your own prejudices and presuppositions. Music is universal, and can communicate across the barrier of language. Many world music artists are writing and creating sounds we as Americans are already extremely familiar with. Like...
Tinariwen is a group of Tuareg musicians from Malian Sahara and Algeria whose new album, Amadjar, is a brilliant combination of tichumaren (North African "rebellious" folk music) and electric blues. You would recognize 90% of the music as being from any number of blues-rock revival garage bands like White Stripes or the Black Keys. But...the vocals are in Tamasheq (the Tuareg language). But there's something appealing about listening to music when you can't--as a boorish American like me--understand the lyrics. The pure musicianship shines through, and you focus on each note, delivered expertly by a group that has had the full expanse of the world's largest desert in which to practice their craft. And even though you (read: I) can't understand the lyrics consciously, the international, cross-cultural language of the blues allows you to somehow understand every song. You feel what they feel because when musicians know what they're doing (and Tinariwen know) and are so impressively skillful (and Tinariwen are), the journey you go on by listening happens regardless of where you're from or what language you speak.
And once you've completed the second lesson in world music this week, we move on to...
Širom's second full-length album, A Universe that Roasts Blossoms for a Horse, has a significantly higher standard for entry than Tinariwen's. But once you cross the threshold, I guarantee you'll be satisfied. Širom is a trio from Slovenia that specialize in creating textured, "imagined" folk music (in that, it's not arranging a real, traditional song). Their sound is experimental and often uses handmade instruments and an extreme knowledge of ethnomusicology. There's a woman ululating, a bluegrass banjo, and a Nordic fiddle...and that's the first song. The layers of seemingly disparate cultures mixed together on the four epic tracks include bits of Sufi, jazz, and Hungarian folk. The compositions are written like something off Swans' The Seer, while the production is closer to a Jonny Greenwood film score. And while all that sounds eclectic, and weird, and maybe insane, I can tell you from listening to it multiple times: it's incredibly soothing. You could easily spend hours divining each note like tea leaves, looking for something cosmic and eternal; that's definitely a valid take. Or, you could just put it on while you cook dinner; everything needs a dramatic soundtrack.
So, I certainly hope you give world music a chance. Some of my favorite albums of the past several years have been international releases. Take for instance, the now immensely popular Rosalia, whose El Mal Querer garnered critical acclaim and international attention. But her first album, Los Angeles, is a dark, traditional Catalan album that, despite not knowing a single full-phrase of Spanish, had me near tears multiple times. Or, the totally recognizable pop of CHAI, an all-female dance-punk band from Japan whose songs are so catchy you try to sing along (but, you know, they're in Japanese).
World music is a "genre" that's more than just a genre, it's an endless canvas on which to explore, draw, and create. Happy listening
