Seeing as many people enjoyed the album, perhaps there is nothing inherently wrong with this. But the Mi Reflejo problem underlines a question that invariably confronts us when we talk about American and European pop stars incorporating “world music” into their sound. How deep do the roots really go? When artists (or the record companies behind them) reach for Latin beats, Bhangra rap, gamelan ensembles and didgeridoos to spice up an album, does it represent the true exploration of another form of music? The beauty of cultural sharing in a globalizing world? Or is it merely something pasted on top, another superficial attempt to capitalize on the appeal of “exotic” cultures?
An early example that illustrates this cultural mixing vs. exotic fancy phenomenon comes not from music, but from Modern art. In 1906, Pablo Picasso dropped a bomb on Western visual art with his Demoiselles D’Avignon. Through the use of abstraction, angular line, and reference to African folk art, Picasso made what could have been an ordinary portrait of five naked women into the seminal work of early Cubism. But when he painted somber African masks onto the faces of two of the figures, Picasso was not asking his contemporaries to embrace or consider African art. These particular masks and the cultures from which they come are not keys to unlocking the meaning of the work any more than phonetically singing Spanish is the key to helping Christina Aguilera get closer to her Ecuadorian roots. Picasso was simply pasting them in to add more foreign-ness or otherness to an already shocking painting.
Compare this with with rapper Jay-Z’s use of a Bhangra music sample as the main hook in his 1999 hit, “Big Pimpin’.” There is no mention of 1999 hit, “Big Pimpin’.” There is no mention of anything relating to Indian culture in the lyrics to “Pig Pimpin.’” and the music video features Jay-Z and a lot of women pouring alcohol on one another on a tropical coast, possibly in India but most likely not. Jay-Z wanted the flavor of exoticism in the song, but beyond that the Bhangra sample is just another way to make us dance and a vehicle for Jay-Z to rap about doing what he does best.
On the other hand, we have the example of late 19th century Post-Impressionist Paul Gauguin. Gauguin abandoned Europe (and his own family) to live and paint in Tahiti. He had a deep interest in the culture and wasn’t painting the people of Tahiti for their dynamic shock value, but rather because he believed their lifestyle was beautiful and uninfected with the disease of European decadence. Yes, the colorful, childlike images he created in Tahiti betray a naive idealization of his subjects. But Gauguin’s interest in this foreign culture was indeed more genuine than Picasso’s interest in Africa. He remained there for many years and the art that he made there had a great influence on other Modern artists.
Compare this with the Beatles’ sudden interest in Transcendental Meditation (TM) and Indian music in the late 1960s. The Beatles, particularly John Lennon and George Harrison, truly believed in many of the precepts of Transcendentalism and started experimenting with the sitar on their 1967 album, Rubber Soul. This desire to learn about Indian ragas prompted them to pay Ravi Shankar a visit soon after. They also took a trip to stay with the Maharishi Mahesh Yogi, the father of TM, at his Palace of Peace. Whatever the results of this foray, the Beatles’ exploration of Eastern music and meditation stemmed from a genuine curiosity and interest in another culture and another musical style. One of the songs on their next album, Revolver, is sitarheavy and never changes chords, a rule followed in traditional Indian music. This was quite an experiment for the most popular rock group in the world, and the truly Indian-inspired tracks are not the ones you hear people humming.
An exploration of world music that did garner enormous pop success was singer/songwriter Paul Simon’s 1986 album, Graceland, which sold over 15 million copies. The Graceland sessions were inspired by the artist’s time in South Africa where he became fascinated with the country’s music, both folk and contemporary. The album represents a true fusion between the music of the songwriter and the music of South Africa (as well as some Zydeco). His collaboration with Johannesburg’s African vocal group Ladysmith Black Mambazo and African session musicians constitutes a true fusion between world music and American pop. On Graceland, Simon isn’t simply adding a little South African flavor to his sound; he is fully embracing and exploring a type of music that he feels passionately about, and this comes through in the music.
Thus, both types of borrowing – the superficial and the more substantial – can make for successful Western pop music. And even if Jay-Z doesn’t have a great deal of interest in Bhangra music, it’s not out of the question that someone might hear the catchy beat to “Big Pimpin’” and want to go learn more about Indian pop music. But how does this musical borrowing function in the close relationship between American and Latin music? With South America only a continent away, it has always been natural to explore other musical cultures through the music of Mexico, Cuba and Brazil. But as we have seen in the Christina Aguilera example, the line between the two types of “world music borrowing” becomes more blurred as we move through the 20th century.
Latin influence struck the jazz idiom in the first half of the century when musicians from south of the border began playing stateside and influencing American jazz artists. Stan Getz’s collaborations with João Gilberto and Dizzy Gillepsie’s work with Chano Pozo brought us Latin American beats from South America and the Caribbean. Getz and Gilberto’s work together in the early 1960s was responsible for introducing the bossa nova, a popular pop music sound of Brazil, to the U.S. When Americans heard this song, they couldn’t help but sway from side to side because of the syncopated “new beat,” literally “bossa nova.” Getz’s landmark album with Gilberto and his wife, Astrud (who sang two tracks in English, including the classic recording of “The Girl from Impanema”) mixed this South American tradition with his inspired saxophone playing already familiar to American jazz enthusiasts.
Chano Pozo moved to New York in the late 1940s and was an integral part of the fusion of Cuban music with that of bebop musicians into Latin jazz. Songs by Dizzy Gillespie and Chano Pozo are characterized by Gillespie’s fast-paced soloing and Pozo’s conga rhythms. Examples such as Cubana Be,” “Cubana Bop” and “Manteca” demonstrate the integration of Cuban music into jazz. The syncopated bass line and heavily accented playing of Pozo on the congas made “Manteca” appeal to Americans who just want to dance. The heavy syncopation in Latin jazz provides the rhythms that are fun and interesting to dance to.
Both of the above examples show jazz artists not only using Latin music in their work, but collaborating with the artists themselves and learning to play like them. This relationship enhances and influences American jazz to this day.
But America’s interest in the smooth sounds that characterize bossa nova also led us to the genre of exotica in the the 1950s. Exotica also has some Latin roots, but the roots here are in no way deep. Exotica began when music makers sought to capitalize on the desire for an identifiable ethnic sound in an easily digestible pop form that included traditional western instruments like horns and strings. It used familiar instruments while incorporating sounds of South America, and sometimes Africa and Polynesia. Songs in the exotica genre use short instrumental riffs similar to and including cha-chacha to grab listeners out of their chairs and throw them onto the dance floor. Several of the founding artists of exotica were based in America, like Martin Denny and Les Baxter, while many of the artists who jumped on the bandwagon were from Mexico and South America.
One such Mexican artist is Esquivel, whose music was targeted at the American bachelor. The aim of his album, Space Age Bachelor Pad Music and interpretations of American compositions such as Take the ‘A’ Train can’t be denied their role in targeting U.S. markets. He is known for his use of stereo experimentation, made possible by the advent of the LP. This cheeky use of stereo recording technology only added to the exotic appeal of his music. In this way, Latin musicians and white Americans who imitated them became responsible for the music of American cocktail parties.
Exotica highlights a more surface kind of interest in world musics, partly because it is the bastard child of an eclectic group of musical traditions. It hangs without a culture, suspended over a void of idle party conversation and ice clinking in martini glasses. There is almost no depth to exotica, and no one, including the artists who made it, would attest that it inspires a dialogue across musical cultures, but it is pleasant background music that doesn’t take itself too seriously.
As Latinos have grown to become America’s largest minority in recent years, we must ask ourselves whether Latin music still qualifies in America as “world music.” Recent Latin American pop explosions like Shakira, Enrique Iglesias, and Ricky Martin are just as visible and just as accepted in the U.S. as American born pop stars. And in their music, the heavily syncopated beat is still responsible for making us dance. If you think about every Shakira, Enrique Iglesias, or Ricky Martin song to top the charts, you might be struck by their incredible dance-ability. Iglesias’s “Bailamos,” literally “we dance,” just goes to show you that when listening to Enrique Iglesias, we dance. Most of this Latin music translates immediately to the American listener, even in cases when the words aren’t translated; it doesn’t take an American artist collaborating with these pop sensations to make their music more digestible.
In the age of high-speed communication our world is getting smaller and smaller. We have instant access to information from the past and the present from all over the world. This connection to global cultures allows our individual musical cultures to grow ever closer to one other. Sometimes this just means throwing in an exotic instrument, a new kind of beat, or a few Spanish words. Other times it really means artists are choosing to learn from other cultures, collaborate with foreign artists, and make that music a part of them. Both have their place, but when the latter kind of fusion happens, it can make for really exciting changes in music that encourage and inspire cultural discourse. Or even if the discourse doesn’t happen, it might just make us want to dance. And that’s a good start.
Clinton Peterson is a senior math major from Stockholm, Wisconsin.