Liberian street hit stirs the political pot

http://www.guardian.co.uk/music/2013/jan/09/liberia-music-pot-boiling

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When I came back to Liberia last August, there was a strange silence. No sign of Hipco, the country's unique musical style with its vernacular speech and political messages. Sure, there were echoes of Ghana-imported Azonto and US standards such as Akon and R Kelly, and (thanks to a song with Nigerian superstars P Square) Rick Ross. But nothing like Junior Freeman and African Soldier's Da My Area, the song that took over the Liberian airwaves the previous year.

Then, I started to hear it. Gradually, at first, brief snatches from yana boys racing past on their motorbikes, then with increasing frequency on the few radio stations that play Liberian music. And finally, all the time, blasting outside of shops and homes and anywhere else a combination of audio equipment and electricity exists.

Everybody pot boiling, my pot can't boil. The Pot Boiling Remix. There's an original somewhere, but I haven't heard it yet. The remix brings together Hipco artists Xpolay, JD Donzo, Luckay Buckay, Takun J and Bentman tha Don, with Romeo Lee on the chorus. In the song, the artists talk about a reality that often gets lost (or distorted) behind all the rhetoric of development and international aid in which Liberia is drowning.

Everybody pot boiling, my pot can't boil The only time my pot can boil when a car kill the dog. The government breaking so the youth is still jerking. School fees got me sent from school cuz my pot not boiling. Corruption in the city got me kicking some dust cuz my pot not boiling Sholee says she be leaving me tonight cuz my pot not boiling Landlord say I should leave tomorrow cuz my pot not boiling. Too much big big talk And result to negligence They neglected to build the country No development So so embezzlement Send the money through Ecobank Building other country's banks How my pot will boil As a boy Baby mamma coming Children crying to the house Even the leadership did some D.I.R.T. But only Charles Taylor in the Hague, I.C.C.

Despite the song's popularity, I had a hard time getting a copy. Limited access to the internet has kept Liberian musicians from establishing an online presence to sell their music and promote themselves. And weak (or non-existent) copyright laws mean that everyone from the big GSM companies to the music seller on the corner can use (or sell) an artist's song without ever having to pay royalties.

I finally was able to get a hold of Xpolay, who took me to an internet cafe where someone was holding the master for him. He burned a copy for me. While no copies of the song are officially on sale anywhere, music sellers are burning pirated CDs and yana boys are transferring music through memory chips for their phones (this in a country where more people have access to a cell phone than to toilets).

I asked Xpolay why the song had resonated so strongly, and he said it was because they [the artists] were speaking the truth, and because the people are seeing that the artists - some of Liberia's biggest superstars - are just like them.

It's true. Xpolay took me to his house, a small zinc building in Chicken Soup Factory, an impoverished community on the outskirts of Monrovia. Despite their popularity, Hipco artists are struggling to make their own pots boil. Outside of state support for certain ruling-party favorites, there are no government-sponsored arts programmes, and the musicians union focuses largely on gospel music.

Promoters – largely middle-class diaspora Liberians – see Hipco as an opportunity to make money, so they host shows where they bring in Nigerian or Ghanaian musicians for seven-figure sums, but ask Liberian artists to perform for the smallest fraction of that. And when the would-be promoter doesn't get the return s/he imagined, it's the Liberian artists who get cheated.

The relationship between the US and Liberia is an "interesting" one. US music is seen as the gold standard, followed by music from Nigeria and Ghana. So what happens is that artists start copying or imitating US artists. That's part of the reason why the Hipco movement is so relevant, because it prioritises Liberian culture (and in some ways, fighting the neocolonialism that is the US in Liberia). But its also interesting because while Liberian musicians are trying to sound more American, Liberian musicians who have grown up in the States and are based there make music that's trying to sound more Liberian.

However, Hipco musicians are starting to fight back. They are organising themselves to advocate for more radio airtime and setting internal, informal standards about performance fees. They're holding the private sector - those GSM companies, for example - accountable, too, and in July, they organised a boycott of an Azonto concert because local artists were being disrespected.

And they have the support of their fans, music lovers who follow Takun J home after a show, chanting his name all the way; others who sing Lucky Buckay's verses word-for-word, etc. And it appears that this support extends across the diaspora. With Xpolay's permission, I posted Pot Boiling Remix on SoundCloud and then posted a link on my personal Facebook page. It had over 200 plays in two days (and with the limited internet access I mentioned earlier, I know the traffic isn't coming from within Liberia). The song was immediately liked, shared, commented on, tweeted, re-tweeted, favourited, and reposted on YouTube.

Meanwhile, Xpolay, Romeo Lee, JD Donzo, Luckay Buckay, Bentman tha Don and Takun J are hoping to use the momentum of the song to create more support for Hipco and for themselves. It's not about money but rather the sustainability of the industry. It's about finding ways to continue to speak their truths, engage their fans, and be able to survive as musicians. They met recently to discuss the Pot Boiling Remix music video, which means finding sponsors to fund it, finding a videographer with high quality equipment to shoot it, a director with the skills and creativity to direct, and a venue willing to host the launch. Their immediate hope is that the video will generate revenue. But there is a more subtle hope that the song, and the video, will bring a more practical kind of development – the kind that makes the pots in every household boil – to Hipco and to Liberia.