Five, let us say seven, songs in
Lawi’s latest release, Sunset in the sky,
are not just laced with poetry. They are delivered in varying fusions, resonating
natural sounds, a kind and careful tone, yet beyond – or perhaps underneath –
that eclecticism comes a huge theme in modern literature: poverty-porn.
When I met with Lawi, on a
drizzling evening last year where he had come with that simplicity of a
commoner yet the mind of an artist who understands his trade, I charged that he
has metamorphosed into an artist who celebrates poverty.
I was, in a way, echoing an
opinion long highlighted by the University of Malawi academic, Emmanuel Ngwira,
who writing on Lawi’s previous release specifically singled out Life is beautiful as a celebration of a
distant life. A ‘poverty porn’ of sort.
“It is not a celebration of
poverty per se,” Lawi argued. Thereafter, he went into a sermon: on happiness – almost philosophical and
intellectual in its packaging. Yet, in brief, he was explaining a song in the
album. Maybe just a line, from Therere:
Ulemelero
si ndalama/koma mtima wa chimwemwe (To live happily is not about
what you have/it is about a grateful heart).
“I do not just present poverty. I
present actual situations of people: their survival in such situations, their
experiences, their joys,” his argument – in brief.
“In presenting poverty, I am not presenting
a situation I only hear of, or just watch. I present situations I have
experienced,” he said.
Indirectly, maybe throwing to his
song Monga Nyerere in which he
describes poverty with poetry that can only be created by one who has
experience of it:
Umphawi
ndi ndende/kusauka ndi nkhalango/ukaponya diso lokhalokha dondo (poverty
is a trap/it’s a forest/anywhere you look at/there’s hardly an escape route).
I put this to Lawi as well
because, in a way, I sympathised with that view. Lawi’s latest release does not
come cheap, as per Malawian average price. The music? It does not come with
that energy of Malawian music, like that single he unleashed as a precursor to
the album: Zonena kuchuluka.
There were some songs he referred
to that appeal to different sectors. He talked of Yalira ng’oma – a song that celebrates the Ngoni culture with
Ingoma drumming that synthesises with modernity. A song that comes with a
harmony that beats understanding when it is said that it is Lawi, throughout,
on the vocals. In the song, he boasts:
And, he dwelled on the larger
themes that the album carries. Themes on hard work, like the one that the
poetry-in-music song Ndilemba carries.
Themes on death ably handled with a rhythm that is inviting to a spiritual
sojourn such as Where my heart is.
“Then there is Timalira, a song that anybody can relate
with,” he summed up on the subject. Either deliberately, or perhaps callously,
pointing to a song that appears to have struck a raw nerve that is not
frequently stepped upon in people’s chain of feelings.
“It touches on a good theme in a
very simple and intriguing manner,” said Harry Chikasamba, a music critic, on
the song.
Of course, for an album with 25
songs – disparate and tethering on a wider experimentation – to label it as
elitist sounds casual and maybe careless. Yet, also, at the same time 25 being
such a huge figure, authenticity can be an issue. Some songs in the album,
unsurprisingly, have been accused of sounding like songs from elsewhere.
When I put this to Lawi, he asked
for the songs: those he was being accused of borrowing from and his products
that were sounding like others.
“Meaning you have not listened to
them (the so-called originals)?” I was blunt.
“I might have listened to the artists
but having a deliberate concept of copying from another, that I did not. I know
the time it takes to create an art product, I would not deliberately steal an
artwork from another person,” he said.
And proceeded: “Of course,
questions of originality in art these days are contentious. Almost any song you
can produce, something similar has ever been done elsewhere before you. At
times, you do not even know it yet the audience assumes you stole such a
concept.”
One could be forgiven to think he
is quoting the Bible, the book of Ecclesiastes. It would be a safe guess,
especially considering that Lawi has largely been associated with gospel music.
A good number of Malawians might still be thinking that he is a gospel
musician. That was another topic that I asked him about: is Lawi a gospel
musician?
“But people, throughout, have
thought you are a gospel musician. Others have wondered if you stopped doing
gospel music,” I implored further.
“I do not think that there ever
was a point when I was a gospel musician as we understand gospel musicians in
Malawi. Some of the music that I have made throughout the years, and even in
this album, has had a leaning towards Christianity but that does not imply that
I am a gospel musician in the sense of the word,” he said.
Alanga,
Kosalowa dzuwa, Ndi angelo, Salimo langa ndi and a few other songs are
certainly gospel songs. And Omanga nyumba
and Nyumba ya pa mchenga are
songs with a foundation in Christian literature. Yet, they do not represent the
whole essence of the album.
“I have grown up in a Christian
community, that comes through in my music” he said.
Sunset in
the sky, a fair commentary from a fan might say, is Lawi’s coming of
age. It is a man bidding farewell to his kinsmen to take on a bigger stage.
Perhaps, asking for just one handshake from
them before he takes on his dreams. It is Malawian. And not Malawian. It is an
aspiration. A dare. A challenge targeting heights.
The poetry, which I find to be
highest in the album, is a roadmap. A campus of some sort. It points us to the future
of music. Tracing him from Lawi, the
album, this must be a huge footprint into a future that is bright. Yet, at the
same time, it sounds that it is the future it is pointing into.
The article was published in the Malawi News of 27 January, 2018.
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