HITS & MISSES - by CHRISTINA RODEN

HITS & MISSES - an opinionated survey of world music happenings by CHRISTINA RODEN

Dancing Cat label execs were initially somewhat concerned about an upcoming documentary exposé about the 'dog-eat-dog world of Hawaiian slack key guitar.' They need not have worried. According to project coordinators, not a soul within the movement was willing to talk trash, primarily due to an overwhelming lack of internal animosity. Film crews moved from hammock to hammock in a fruitless search for potential interviewees. Finally, mightily peeved and getting a little chubby after six weeks of unrelenting hospitality, they were obliged to put the feature in turn-around. 'It wasn't fair,' says producer Deane-Marc Scheiss, 'We came to Honolulu in good faith, looking for hot poop, the real dirt behind slack key. But they kept on being nice to us. I mean, they put flowers around our necks and made us eat an entire herd of roast pigs. I went through a dozen inhalers and still can't fit into my Calvins.' He sighed, staring moodily into the dirty LA afternoon while stroking the paunch under his grand-mal-inducing Aloha shirt. 'It was utterly horrid! I'm going back on the next plane.'

Northside label founder Rob Simmonds was dumbfounded when untoward traces of merriment began surfacing in the output of dour Scandinavian acts like Hedingarna and Hoven Droven. Around the same time, US spy satellites picked up an unexplained mass migration of wide-grinning, frost-bitten musicians and fans into the Arctic tundra. By the time NATO peacekeeping forces were deployed, some of the blissed-out, rioting hedonists had pitched pup tents on nearby glaciers and were serenading the crowd with nyckelharpa and hardanger fiddle renditions of annoyingly perky Eurovision hits. Others were engrossed in frozen-tee-shirt competitions, blubber cook-offs, circle-joiks, or carving naughty ice-sculptures. The puzzling phenomenon was ultimately traced to several truckloads of Prozac, Ecstasy, and Xanax that had somehow found their way into area water supplies. Early evidence suggests that the perpetrators were employed by the Swedish pop act ABBA, who are reportedly miffed by their countrymen's latter-day preference for morbid Runic folk and shockingly impolite, club-oriented electronica. The group's spokesman, Svën Blïxën, denied all charges, but asked 'Ïs it ä crime för peoplë to get häppy oncë in ä whileNULL'

Tugboat, Rounder, and Dancing Cat recording artist Bob Brozman's much-honored 'Islands Project,' having already recorded the intrepid guitarist with musicians from Hawaii, Okinawa, and Reunion, has alighted on New York's Staten Island. Despite sparse interaction with the natives, Brozman was able to ascertain that the community boasts a stunning dearth of indigenous music, to say nothing of a crude, glottal and virtually unintelligible spoken dialect. Left with no collaboration in sight and some unexpected time on his hands, the maestro is gamely composing a song cycle inspired by the borough's unappetizing cuisines and lurid sacred statuary. The work will be recorded near the ferry terminal and accompanied by a chorus of retching seagulls. Then it's on to Fisher's Island, where a summer colony of Unitarian fundamentalists selflessly devote their leisure hours to golf, Wonder Bread finger-sandwiches, and The Kingston Trio.

The 2002 'More Than 4/4 Convention For The Rhythmically-Challenged' has packed in standing-room-only hordes of stubble-faced, pouting Euro-rockers. A prospectus to the Côte D'Azur-based event advertised in-depth panel discussions ('Syncopation - What Is It & Who Needs ItNULL',) how-to lectures about advanced song-writing techniques ('Beyond A-B-A',) and demonstrations of dangerous rogue time-signatures ('The Waltz - 1-2-3, 1-2-3'.) But although the popular bossa nova clinics resulted in the usual migraines, and even a couple of aneurysms, remedial hand-clapping workshops have caused the heaviest casualties. Hospitals for miles around are overrun with limo-loads of badly bruised, charley-horsed pop stars who still can't find the beat and are thus demanding complete refunds. Terrified organizers, keynote speakers Patricia Kaas and Jean-Jacques Goldman, and this year's 'Honorary French Chanteuse,' Celine Dion, have already fled the scene.

As planet Earth gradually devolves into 'the global suburb,' pure and unadulterated ethnic traditions are becoming harder to find. But the great David Lewiston, of Nonesuch Explorer fame, has just returned from the long-avoided Tinnitus Archipelago. Going there was a risky enterprise, as the inhabitants have embraced cannibalism ever since a dyslexic tribal chef was introduced to Captain Cook and thought he was following instructions to the letter. Lewiston narrowly avoided a similar fate by expressing interest in the local music. 'The natives were so astounded that they quite lost their appetites,' he recalled. He soon found out why, as the highly demanding Toe-Nose-Shawm is their sole musical instrument. 'It is played by a strictly regulated caste of hereditary contortionists,' Lewiston explained. Asked how this previously unknown woodwind sounds, he grimaced and admitted, 'Well, actually, the thing not only bleats like a flatulent goat, but hits the listener like an emetic.' He also discovered that a complete lack of Tinnitan wildlife is due to the animals having stampeded en masse over a land-bridge that once connected the islands to the mainland, until surrounding populations dug it up. Lewiston promises that a compilation CD will be released as soon as studio personnel can figure out how to mix his field recordings without listening to them.

The results of an eagerly awaited study into a possible correlation between bagpipe music and enthusiastic alcohol consumption are, alas, inconclusive. Crews of devoutly teetotaling researchers were dispatched to Ireland, Scotland, Italy, Poland, Brittany, Greece, The Czech Republic, Galicia, Hungary, Northumberland, The Bronx, and anywhere else the alleged instruments are known to proliferate. But unfortunately, data submissions were irregular from the start, as approximately 90% of the canvassers fell off the wagon within days, or even hours, of arrival. The remaining 10% turned out to be suffering from varying degrees of hearing loss.

Rumors are rife that Hannibal Records founder Joe Boyd may have succumbed to an uncharacteristic display of public levity. WOMEX delegates who were brown-nosing in the vicinity could have sworn that he cracked a smile, but later surmised that it might have been acute indigestion, or even a mirage caused by that tricky Rotterdam light. Sources at Hannibal have refused to comment pending Boyd's return from Club Med, but a spokesperson from New York's Luaka Bop imprint was more forthcoming. 'I simply cannot imagine him doing anything so uncool,' he drawled, 'We are perfectly aware that we have an image to uphold and never fail to behave accordingly.'

This just in: The Fela Anikulapo Kuti memorial 'Underwear Onstage!' Exhibition has been designated a Michelin Detour, but in the opposite direction..... World Music Network has announced that their newest sub-label is dedicated to the resurrection of unpopular world music styles. The Extreme Rough Guide sampler will introduce unwary audiences to the Hunan hokey-pokey, fado-lite, Mormon hip-hop, flamenco barbershop quartets, Swiss dub, Korean belly-dance, Flemish funk, three-minute ragas, the Harlem hula, Amish soca, 'Tango For Toddlers', and qawaali fast-food jingles, among other deserving rarities.

APRIL FOOL!!!!!

Source: Christina A. Roden © 2002, mailto:croden@nyc.rr.com

article submitted by: WOMEX