I’m supposed to talk about music here, and believe me, I will, but what I’m really jazzed about is the Democratic Republic of Congo, formerly Zaire. Now frankly, I’m not an expert, but I’m learning, and it’s currently my Affective Hot Button and might remain so for a while, who knows. Suffice it to say that it’s a very fascinating and troubling situation- a civil war and huge political/economic tumult, seemingly motivated by greed regarding the DRC’s natural resources (mineral deposits) have made the scene in the Congo "the widest interstate war in modern African history." The eastern part of the DRC is basically no-man’s land: UN efforts have been largely unsuccessful, and by some accounts Rwanda may have actually invaded the DRC, but we’re not sure. I definitely take for granted the capabilities of technology, politics, and the media, otherwise this shouldn’t startle me. There are places in the world where we don’t really know what’s going on. Holy shit.

Anyway.

I could be wrong, but my assumption is that everyone who reads Stylus (and I guess I’m talking more about the music portion of it) regards music as a hobby, a pastime, even a passion, but ultimately as entertainment. And I’m down with that. Sure, I’d like to think music might change the whole damn world; I’m in pursuit of a transcendent art. But really, it seems like music, especially in the digital era, can appeal to the kind of people who are into sports, for example, insofar as in both cases you can fill your head with facts, get a sense of a historical trajectory, etc. That’s to say that not everyone who likes baseball finds within it an ideal, an apex of human physical capability, the startling grace of a good athlete. Some do, but some just like to have something to be into.

Okay, I realize I’m getting into touchy territory, but basically, my original thought was this: what would our relationship be to our “pop” music if we lived in a place like the DRC (i.e., danger, political upheaval, general instability)? I mean, would we spend time wondering aloud on the Stylus message board why “Izzo” was on our singles list, when surely there must have been several more worthy Jay-Z works in the last few years? Maybe, but probably not. That's basically our luxury. In the Congo, music seems to be a unifying thing, something to temporarily relieve the collective pressures of the country, something that even the soldiers can drop their guns for. Granted, much of the music that we would hear is from Kinshasa, or made by people from Kinshasa who have since relocated to Paris or Brussels (Kinshasa is located in the western portion of the DRC, the government has control over it, it’s unstable but hardly as bad as the east, which is virtually anarchic). Still, it seems that in a place as, let’s say, “in flux” as the DRC that music would take on a certain cultural urgency that differs from the kind of neurotic passivity that marks so many of Us, the record geeks, the fact-gatherers. Noel Ngiama, aka Werrason (one of the DRC’s pop stars) even stated that "music is keeping the nation alive… in Congo, almost everyone can dance or sing." For the Congolese people, music seems to act as more of a necessary and dynamic element, a true safety valve rather than our passionate but trivial pursuit.

Now please hear me when I say that I’m not making a moral argument- one relationship isn’t better than another, and it would be absurd to suggest it was. But reading about the DRC and Congolese music has proved to be a good way to remind myself that music is always taking place in a broader cultural context, and because there are countries different than our own, the relationship of the people to the music is also different. Simple. Sure, we could compare Congolese Soukous or the music of Kinshasa to the Fiery Furnaces (because, as the Beastie Boys remind us, there are “only 24 hours in a day/only 12 notes that a man can play,” i.e. that all music can be formally reduced to the same qualities of general sound, and beyond that, rhythm and notes). What’s more interesting is that the popularity of the Fiery Furnaces and our particular relation to them marks certain trends of our culture, just as the Congolese’s people to their pop stars (and furthermore, Europe and America’s relation to Congolese music). Now, imagine the Fiery Furnaces in the DRC- virtually impossible. You get the point- this is just food for thought, a reminder that any artifact of culture gets its meaning at an intersection with economics, politics, etc. and doesn’t just “mean” on its own, nor is it necessarily "good" or "bad."

You’ll notice I basically haven’t talked about Congolese music (formally) at all. And I basically didn’t talk about what has actually happened to make the DRC what it is today. Okay, sorry, remember: this is just a blog entry, and I could have added a whole lot more research and depth. If you’re interested, there’s plenty of stuff online to read (both about the music and the politics, including that link I had at the top and the Economist article in the middle) and enough stuff going around P2P networks to listen to. I recommend it, partially because a lot of it is good/interesting, and partially because damn, things can get a little stifling up in these parts, and it’s good to remember that the joy of music, regardless of the contours of that joy and the conditions in which it grows, occurs all over the world.