Two months ago I attended a show by Dobet Gnahoré and her entourage. I’m still waiting for a gig equally as impressive. She performed on November 10^th, 2011 at the Dakota Jazz Bar. A packed audience was treated to over 16 polished numbers.

The Dakota’s commitment to carrying musicians from all over the world and especially Africa—Gnahoré’s from Ivory Coast—shows up on their calendar. While not frequent enough for the Twin Cities’ large population of African-born residents, a steady flow of African music can be heard at this venue. February 15^th and 16^th features South African trumpeter Hugh Masekela. Two months later, Vieux Farka Touré from Mali performs.

Other venues reveal similar cultural leanings. The Cedar Cultural Center relishes their reputation as a world music stage. This month, Aar Maanta will bring his Somali music on January 26^th. Along with the Walker, the Cedar will host Seun Kuti—son of the late, famed Fela Kuti—to perform in mid-April.
The Blue Nile Ethiopian Restaurant & Lounge in Minneapolis, occasionally books African acts as does The Varsity Club and the Walker will open their McGuire Theater doors for musical acts of the African diaspora.

But like I said, I haven’t seen anything since that compares to Gnahoré’s show last year. Over a dozen years ago, Dobet Gnahoré performed with the immutable dance troupe, Tsché Tsché, which performed in Minneapolis several years ago.

Although Gnahoré no longer dances with them, she has not lost her jaw-dropping dance moves. She has ropes of muscle in every limb and uses them on stage looking effortless. But when her feet fly above her head repeatedly and she sings at the same time, it’s not effortless. When her body leaps through the air and lands prostate in the center of stage, only to spring upright without missing a note, it’s not effortless.

Gnahoré fills the hall with passion and compassion. One song I remember in particular, prefaced with, “This song is for my continent, for my country. I’m tired of the politics in my country, tired of those who don’t do anything.” Her heartfelt songs, sung in many languages, evokes the love she has for her people and her family.

Along with the seriousness of her music, her playfulness shines, too. A call-and-response with the audience, a number that begins with sign language, a selection that includes Gnahoré picking an mbira or thumb harp, and the driving dance of her entire body makes this show unforgettable.

I’m eager to see the next African act that can compare.

If you asked a random group of American world music fans to rattle off names of African musicians, it will most likely include Youssou N’dour, Baaba Maal, Habib Koite, Salif Keita, Ali Farka Toure, Angelique Kidjo and Fela Kuti. Conspicuously missing from this non-scientific sample are names of musicians from East Africa (Kenya, Uganda, Tanzania, Sudan, Somalia, Ethiopia and others). Save for Nigeria and a few other countries, it is largely music from francophone West African countries (former French colonies) such as Senegal, Mali and Guinea that has enjoyed the most success in the United States. The big question is: Knowing full well that the United States is the largest music market in the world, why is East Africa missing in action?

To begin with, I am led to believe that the French had a hand in this. Unlike the British, central to France’s colonial policy in Africa, was the doctrine of assimilation that considered colonies overseas extensions of imperial France and colonial subjects ripe candidates for integration into the “superior” French civilization. Once integrated, their subjects would be less resistant to colonial hegemony, so the French believed.

Assimilation of Africans was effected through the establishment of schools and French cultural centers designed to propagate French education, language and culture. The French Cultural Center in Bamako, Mali, is one of many around the world financed by France’s ministry of culture. Besides providing performing arts facilities, the cultural centers also extended opportunities to African musicians to perform and record in Paris; thus opening doors for them to the more lucrative European and eventually the United States markets.

It is also noteworthy to mention that the large West African immigrant community that had relocated to Paris beginning in the 50s in pursuit of employment and higher education quickly developed into a cultural hub that became critical to the popularization of African music by availing a support structure and a ready market. Many of the big-name West African artists such as Youssou N’dour and Habib Koite actually nurtured their early music careers in Paris. It is therefore plausible to argue that a primary reason why East African music did not spread is because the French never had a colonial footprint in East Africa. The region was mostly colonized by Great Britain who had no interest in promoting culture.

Some post-independence West African politicians definitely played a fundamental role in the resurgence of an African cultural renaissance. Save for Julius Nyerere of Tanzania, East African leaders did not make culture a centerpiece of governance. Ahmed Sékou Touré of Guinea, Omar Bongo of Gabon, Léopold Senghor of Senegal, himself a renowned poet, created government departments tasked with supporting and developing culture; efforts that greatly benefited the growth of West African musicians.

The most important aspect of music, especially world music, is that it is an artistic manifestation of culture. Attempting to detach music from culture is tantamount to committing artistic turpitude. Culture is a necessary ingredient of music authenticity that draws people or repels them from it: Hip Hop, rock, country and reggae all subscribe to a subculture that identifies the specific genre. West Africans have been effective at combining traditional dance, attire and music instruments (such as the Kora, djembe and ngoni) with modern instruments to the extent that when one goes to a Baaba Maal or Habib Koite concert, it is in essence, a cultural immersion experience that exudes pride and effervescence.

On the other hand, Instead of using traditional dance and instruments as the foundation for modernity, the East Africans seem to have separated their music into three categories.

The first is aimed at a younger, more educated urban population that basically caricatures western Hip Hop and R&B. The second is identified with a less educated, more rural population and is often accompanied by electric guitars and other modern instruments. The third typically employs traditional instruments and is common at tribal ceremonies that are regional and non-commercial in nature.

This separation has inadvertently suppressed East African music on the international arena as it is perceived as unoriginal and devoid of culture. In Kenya, for example, genge (rap in the Swahili language popular with urban youth) has very little in terms of incorporating Kenyan traditional music. The same is true with raga in Uganda and bongo flava in Tanzania.

“Modern” does not necessarily imply an abandonment of culture, but rather, an enrichment of it. Mbalax, a fusion of traditional Senegalese sabar and western pop music is an excellent example of blended African music that not only passes as authentic but is also internationally successful. East African artists need to learn from their West African counterparts if they are to crack the American market. President Ahmed Sékou Touré once said “…culture is not an entity or a phenomenon which is separate or separable from a people culture…”

It then naturally means that culture cannot be separated from music. They cannot survive separately.

Most people with any interest in soccer know that the FIFA World Cup was held for the first time in Africa in 2010 in South Africa. While Mother Africa was disappointed that one of her teams did not win the cup, it was nonetheless not a total loss for Africa. The event did popularize two things African: The loud vuvuzelas and a little-known Somali rapper named Keinan Abdi Warsame.

The would-be rapper was born and raised in Mogadishu, Somalia, left his war-torn country at age 13 for Harlem, New York, did a brief stint in Minneapolis, Minnesota before settling in Toronto, Canada. Here he learned English, horned his skills in poetry and Hip Hop, and adopted the stage name K’Naan.

Whereas Colombian-born singer Shakira’s song Its’ Time for Africa was tapped as the official FIFA World Cup anthem, Coca-Cola – one of the premier sponsors of the event—placed its bets on K’Nnaan and his Hip Hop flavored song Wavin’ Flag. K’Naan released a remixed version of the song baptized “Wavin’ Flag Coca-Cola Celebration Mix” specifically for use during the 2010 FIFA World Cup. Coca-Cola played the song at all its World Cup trophy tour events around the world and featured K’Naan.

It was also used on television and radio commercials worldwide as the music element for the entire campaign. Call it luck or destiny but this would become the break-through game changer for K’Naan. Many people probably understand that South Africa was chosen because it was one of the few African countries that had the facilities and resources to successfully host an event of this magnitude.

However, there are those who would ask: In the midst of African music heavyweights such as Youssou N’dour, Angelique Kidjo, Hugh Masekela, Alpha Blondy and many others, why K”Naan? Why Hip Hop? Is this even African music?

Being Somali in itself was a selling point for K’Naan. Somalia has been a global news staple: war, political turmoil, violence, terrorism and piracy on the high seas have been closely identified with this East African country, which has not had a central government for more than 20 years. Then, along comes a Somali rapper who not only conveys his experiences in Hip Hop—probably the most globally-pervasive music platform—but also delivers his lyrical potency in English: one of the most international languages. It also adds more pack to the punch that K’Naan is eloquent, borderline controversial and charismatic. Coca-Cola quickly and smartly figured that, coupled with the fact that the most popular sporting event in the world was happening in Africa, K’Naan’s attention-grabbing story was fresh and unconventional.

K’Naan’s story had the potential to attract media and public attention and thus benefiting Coca-Cola’s marketing efforts tremendously. The choice of Wavin’ Flag, I believe, was perfect because the song had a beautiful melody and a simple, catchy “nursery-rhyme” style chorus that soccer fans from any country could easily customize to suit their needs. All they needed was a dose of patriotism, a team to support and a flag to wave.

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Coca-Cola’s decision to go with Hip Hop, the music of choice among a large percentage of the world’s youth, may have been partly a result of the fragmented and regionalized nature of African music: there just isn’t a single artist, music genre or style of music that transcends the continent. This, combined with the fact that an overwhelming percentage of soccer fans in Africa and across the world is youthful, made strategic sense for Coca-Cola.

Due to Hip Hop’s pervasiveness and growing influence among the youth of the world, it has become a force that big-business money cannot ignore. Spurred by media outlets such as MTV Africa, cell-phone technology and social media, Hip Hop is steadily becoming a homogeneous youth culture stubbornly diffusing to, and increasingly being embraced by even the tiniest and most remote villages of the globe. Hip Hop also provided the high-octane fervor that best lends itself to soccer fanaticism. The Hip Hop aspect, and K’Naan’s intriguing story, provided Coca-Cola with the perfect knock-out punch and in the process, made K’Naan the ephemeral flag bearer of the African continent.

Coca-Cola was looking for an African artist and a song that could help endear soccer fans across Africa and around the world to its products. It found that in K’naan and Wavin’ Flag. The campaign was highly successful by any standards. The single Wavin’ Flag Coca-Cola Celebration Mix hit the music charts in the top 5 spot in Netherlands, Norway, Italy, United Kingdom, Ireland, France, Canada, Spain and Scotland. It reached number one in China, Mexico, Germany, Canada, Austria, Switzerland and Luxembourg.

Troubadour, K’Naan’s second album from which the single was extracted, peaked at the number 12 position on the U.S. Billboard Top Rap Albums. With the success of Coca-cola’s campaign and the single, K’Naan, almost overnight, became an international sensation. With all the fame and fortune that followed, Somali-born Keinan Abdi Warsame was transformed to international star K’Naan, the provisional face of Africa during the 2010 FIFA World Cup.