Ray Lema’s take on globalisation

Multicultural artist

Paris 

09/05/2011 - 

With his new album, 99, Congolese pianist Ray Lema has moved away from the intimate world of solos and trios to get back with a band. On 99 (the figure used by French bureaucracy to denote people born outside France) he muses in music on the consequences of globalisation and French and African identity, and nurtures dreams of a better world defined by a tolerant cultural melting pot.

RFI Musique: After working solo or in intimate trios for several years, in 2009 you founded the Saka Saka Band. What spurred the decision?
Ray Lema: It’s really a return to what I was doing back in the 1980s. When I played piano on my own or in a trio, people started to take me for an intellectual! So I decided to go back to a style of music that’s closer to the people and more body and dance oriented. "Saka Saka" is the name of a manioc dish and the record is a real musical melting pot. There’s a clear Congolese base but it’s actually hard to pinpoint which country the sound comes from. There are two singers from the Congo and two from France, the brass is Cuban, the drummer and bass player come from Cameroon, with an American trombonist and a Brazilian guitarist. In other words, a real mix that reflects current times!

What does the title "99" signify?
It’s a jokey reference to my ID number. In France, everyone born outside the country is allotted the number 99: all in the same bag! For once, I decided to be proud of belonging to such an enormous ragbag. In day-to-day life, caught up in the cogs of grinding French bureaucracy, the figure is a constant source of irritation full of obstacles, quibbles and questioning.

Would you say that the globalisation you mention in the album’s prologue results in cultures coming together or moving apart?
I think it’s a bipolar phenomenon. With globalisation, the planet is shrinking through the rise in communication. At the same time, identities are tenser, communities are tighter and poor little human beings feel threatened by their neighbours near and far. I’m really convinced that we are witnessing a kind of cultural levelling-off. The artistic onslaught of the United States has the effect of standardising global cultures. France is becoming more and more Americanised, constantly looking over the Atlantic to see what the US is doing and creating. A huge percentage of French groups now sing in English.

In Africa, would you say that cultural foundations are tending to disappear?
It’s much more tragic in Africa, it’s a complete catastrophe! With the rural exodus and access to television and comfort, people are totally fascinated by the West. Our heads of state take a purely economic and material stand on the continent’s problems, and yet the solution lies in culture and education. Africans aren’t even aware of their huge musical wealth, even though the whole world envies them for it! When a people doesn’t know it’s own treasure, it leads to all kinds of disaster.

On your penultimate track, Ata Ndele, you reel off a list of great pan-African leaders (Thomas Sankara, Kwame Nkrumah, Nelson Mandela, etc.). Is it your way of saying that another Africa is possible?
Ata Ndele means "sooner or later". Sooner or later, Africa is going to need to wake up! We’ve had some great men on the continent who have had some great dreams. But our presidents don’t dream any longer, Africa no longer dreams, there are no social programmes with even the faintest utopian vision. Have you heard of the Sapeurs du Congo? Sapologie is a whole science of snazzy dressing, initiated by Papa Wemba. Young people have competitions to see who is the best dressed, with the most designer labels! My God, that’s quite some code for life! Some people’s dream is to reach Mars, but in Africa the dream is to get hold of some Yves Saint-Laurent shoes. At my age, it’s enough to make you want to hit your head against a wall.

Back to France: what do you think the solutions are for creating a true musical identity?
This country should assume its multi-cultural side. There’s a whole bunch of rhythms sounding out in the streets of Paris. Young people playing salsa, samba and mandinka like nothing else. And all of those small worlds come together. But the media makes a point of ignoring them and prefers bending our ears with Ben l’Oncle Soul, not that I’ve got anything against him, except for the constant hype. Here, the media and the record labels have created neat compartments containing French chanson, pop-rock, jazz and hip hop, etc. Anything outside is "99", which means "world music". It’s outrageous. Then sometimes, to ease their conscience, they bring out artists like Amadou & Mariam, or promote some kora playing that’s magnificent but hard to listen to for more than 20 minutes at a time because it’s so ethnic. Of course the French public find it "cute" but not much more. So from time to time the artistic powers-that-be serve us up a particular idea of Africa that’s completely unrepresentative. You have to grit your teeth and stamp your feet and wait for it to pass, because it always does. France really needs to loosen up and look squarely at the plural identities out there. It’s possible to bring out some great music that’s got a whole load of punch but is still perfectly profitable.

Ray Lema 99 (One Drop) 2011
Playing live on 11 May 2011 at the Bellevilloise and on 28 May at the Quai Branly Museum in Paris.

Anne-Laure  Lemancel