Chisha Folotiya is the founder of Mondo Music Records, a label that has been central to the revival of the Zambian popular music industry since 1999.  The 90s were a very slow time in Zambian music, in part because Teal Records closed its vinyl pressing plant in Ndola in the early 90s, and endemic cassette piracy discouraged new players from coming in to fill the void.  Mondo Music changed the dynamic by offering a new generation of music, more tuned in to international trends like R&B, dancehall, ragamuffin, and rap.  In preparation for our fall 2006 program, Zambia: Rumba Roots to R&B Renaissance, Banning Eyre telephoned down to Lusaka to get Chisha’s thoughts on Zambian music past and present.  Here’s their conversation.

Banning Eyre:  Tell me a little about yourself.  Your background, and how you got involved with the music industry?

Chisha Folotiya:  I was born here in Zambia, raised here in Zambia.  Then I went to the UK for senior secondary school, and then I also went to university in the UK.  While I was there, I was a DJ on radio.  I finished my degree and came back to Zambia to live and work in 1993.  I had to come back here to run the family businesses, and then I was also doing some part-time work on radio, Radio Phoenix here in Lusaka, as a DJ.  Throughout my time, I was playing a lot of international music from all over, and I realized and noticed that there was no local music being played, or being produced.  And that's how I came up with the idea of starting a record company, because I had always liked music production.  I can't play any instruments, but I have a good ear for music.  So in 1999, I incorporated Mondo Music after doing some research with some record companies in South Africa, getting some contracts, and reading some books about how record companies run.  So we started this thing, and I thought it was going to be fun.  I thought it was going to be small.  I thought it was just going to be something I could do apart from the other interests I had.  But in the last seven years, it has grown to something bigger than me, bigger than anything I imagined.

B.E.:  It has taken over your life.

C.F.:  Oh yes. 

B.E.:  Going back to family history, what is your native tongue?

C.F.:  Bemba.  That's one of languages from a northern part of Zambia.

B.E.:  One of about 70 languages I gather.

C.F.:  We’re the dominant guys though.  People don't like us saying it, but numbers are numbers.

B.E.:  Some speak of a “renaissance” in Zambian music in recent years.  Do you think that’s an accurate description of what’s going on now?

C.F.:  It is difficult to say, because I'm often the one who is credited is being behind the renaissance.  I think the talent was there.  People could write music, could play music.  Zambians loved music.  And there was a massive music industry in Zambia starting from about the late sixties up to about 1990, when it died.  We had a record plant here which was part of Tale Records International, which I think was later bought up by EMI.  Teal Records stopped producing records around 1990, 91.  There were economic reasons.  There was a shortage of foreign exchange, so they couldn't buy the acetate for the vinyl to make the records, and two, it was the advent of tapes, cassette tapes.  And also, we had no copyright law.  So anybody could make anything.  So in 1993, 94, when Zambia signed a Copyright Act, then music became protectable by copyright.  But during the whole of the nineties, there was no real music going on—until I came along, started Mondo Music, and we actually started investing in musicians, investing in marketing them, in branding them, in putting up systems, distribution to distribute the music across the country and introduce people to the idea of actually buying Zambian music.

And what people would call the renaissance is that after we started it, like in most businesses, other people started to jump on the bandwagon, started some record companies of their own.  Other artists would record individually, on their own, and then try to distribute, or we would distribute for them if we couldn't sign them on.  So really, there has been exponential growth in the amount of Zambian music being produced in the last seven years, and also in the consumption and the appreciation of it.  Right now, Zambian music dominates our local radio, and were also becoming a little bit noticed outside of the country.  We've been nominated for the KORA African Music Awards for the last six years in a row, artists from our record label, and a few other artists as well, but we always seem to be there.  So people are starting to stand up and take notice of what Zambian music is about.

B.E.:  That's a great story.  Very good to hear.  Certainly from a business perspective, that has to qualify as a renaissance.  You say there are other labels now.  How many would you say there are?

C.F.:  Now, you see, that is a difficult question for me to answer because of competition.  Over the years, certain people have come up with record labels—and I will say it nicely—with certain levels of competence, capital, and commitment.  So some of the labels have come along, sold a couple of records, and failed.  The tough part of the music business is that your average is 1 in 10 hits, so when you have that one hit, everybody is laughing.  You’re getting your money back.  Everybody is smiling.  But when you have your other six, 7, or nine "donkeys," as we call them, it is very difficult for the investors, and the people running the business to keep going.  The records aren't selling, so they're not getting their investments back.  They can't pay their suppliers.  They can't pay the artists, and stuff like that.  So it takes a lot of perseverance and a lot of commitment and direction to know what it is.

And also a lot of skills.  Right now, if you look at the music industry in Zambia, there are a few small record companies who have four or five artists, three or four records a year, and then a major player like us, Mondo Music.  And there's now a new manufacturer, some gentlemen from India who have come along, and they have made things a lot cheaper.  They have brought the manufacturing in local, and they have made things very cheap.  They've got a different business model.  I don't want to talk about them.  They’re just in manufacturing.  They don't do any production, any promotion, anything.  They will just do pressing and distribution.

B.E.:  Do they manufacturer your CD's?

C.F.:  Yeah, they do, but then, they kind of underprice us with their other stuff.  Here in Zambia, the two main media for music are CDs and cassettes.  I'd say about 80% of the music consumed is on cassettes.  We are moving towards the CD's, though.

B.E.:  How much is a typical Mondo Music cassette on them open market?

C.F.:  We were doing them at about 10 to 15,000 kwacha [$3 to $4].  A CD is usually about the equivalent of $10, about 40 to 50,000 kwacha.

B.E.:  If you had to define the mission of Mondo Music, what would you say it is?

C.F.:  We have a mission statement written down.  I should be able to do it off the top of my head.  We aim to be a leading record producer, distributor, and publisher in Africa.  We want to make Zambian music known.  We want to be noticed.  And we want Zambian music to contribute towards the economic development of our country.  On a small level, as individual artists, retailers, producers, choreographers, dancers who are involved in the music itself, and also at the macro economic level, the entire retail sector, and manufacturing sector.  Wow!  I can't believe I said that.

B.E.:  Sounds good to me.  Write it down.

C.F.:  Were going digital, though.  Right now, Mondo Music is going through change of personality, a change of our business model.  One of the big challenges we have faced has been piracy.  As we are not been adequately helped and policed by the government.  People are still making lots of pirate copies of our stuff, and it's very difficult to apprehend them, and especially to prosecute them.  We are looking more towards the digital age.  We are saying, okay, other companies will do the CDs and cassettes, but we are going to try to focus on the digital thing.  We are setting up a thing for selling MP3 downloads.  They're going to be two of those, a local site for people in Zambia, and we’re working out a payment method that they can use for that.  And then there's also going to be the international site as well. 

As you know, record companies around the world for the last eight years have been slow on picking up on the fact that people are now playing MP3's.  Everybody has got an iPod or a Real Player, or whatever.  And that's what they're doing.  They're burning their own CDs.  They are not buying albums the way they used to do.  So Mondo Music wants to be one of the first companies in Africa to actually harness the digital age, and be able to present properly packaged MP3 files to actually buy the music, and catch up with the rest of the world.

B.E.:  That's great, very forward thinking of you.  How common is the use of MP3's in Zambia?

C.F.:  It is common.  The iPods and the MP3's are becoming quite common.  Surprisingly so.  I mean, Zambia is a place that, like the rest of Africa, we catch up to digital trends.  The digital divide around the world is slowly narrowing.  You find among the middle and upper classes, the homes have got wireless internet connections, broadband, pretty high-speed connection, and of course lots of Internet cafes around that people can access the Internet on, so we are catching up.  People are going digital in terms of the way they produce music.  Almost every PC you buy now has got a CD burner and it, so people make their own compilations.

B.E.:  I'm really glad to hear that.  I have long felt that digital technology was a way that African societies could leapfrog some of the obstacles that have held music industries back in the past.

C.F.:  It’s like what the cell phones have done.  Cell phones are amazing here.  Everybody has a cell phone.  My grandfather in the village, he lives in a small town called Lundazi in the eastern province, and he gave me a call on his new cell phone.  One of my uncles had bought him a new phone.  And I was baffled.  Wow!  You know, in the old days, making contact with the rural areas was difficult, but now we have cell phone coverage in all 72 districts of our country.  And they are about to launch a new WAP service, so we will be able to sell ring tones and mobile media content, of which Mondo Music is at the forefront, supplying and distributing that.  So we’re really looking at that and feeling that things are going to move in the digital age.

B.E.:  That is exciting.  It's a different world now, isn't it?

C.F.:  Even when you need a plumber, you just phone him.  Before this, you would have to go to a certain part of town where the workmen hang out, and go there early in the morning to catch them before they got jobs.  Now you just phone them, 24-7, and they come over.

B.E.:  This program is going to summarize the history of modern Zambian music over the course of 1 hour.  So let’s go through it in brief.  What was Zambian popular music like during colonial times, and how did it change after independence in 1964?

C.F.:  The old history of Zambian music.  Okay, in the colonial days, people came to live in the towns, especially along what's called the line of rail, which is where the railroad is, of course.  And they were towns in the copperbelt like Kitwe, Luanshya, Mufulira, where a lot of people would come to live and work in the mines, and in all the support services and industries around them.  And the people started finding ways during their leisure time, especially on weekends, to entertain themselves.  So they would get together and sing some of their traditional songs, and as time moved on, people became a little bit more enamored of the Western life, and they started adapting some of the Western instruments into their own music, and of course, a lot of people would start imitating Western artists, the Cliff Richards, the Buddy Hollys, the James Browns, the Beatles, the Rolling Stones. 

B.E.:  And I understand country music as well.  Jimmy Rodgers records coming up from South Africa.

C.F.:  That's right.  Jimmy Reeves and all those guys.  Kenny Rogers was very big when I was growing up.  My God.  I still love that stuff today.  So people are adopting that music, and they would start playing in the bars and stuff.  Bands would learn the Western music, and then over time, around about the very late sixties and early seventies, some of the musicians started playing their own compositions, to a Western beat.  Basically, it would either be rock, or R&B, soul, and they would sing our own, indigenous lyrics to that.  Especially the rock period in the seventies was very, very strong, and there was a period of time—I would save about 1973 to 78—when the most popular music in Zambia was called Zamrock.  That had some seriously heavy guitars, and the guys would dress like the rock stars.  They would give themselves name like the rock stars, people like Ki-Keith Richards, and Elvis.  They would adopt those names and do a stage show just like that.  But as things evolved, people started fusing a little bit more of the traditional stuff.

Zambia has always been a country musically that adapts and adopts.  I think it's because sociologically, our history is of people who ran away.  A lot of people came here when Shaka Zulu was doing his damage in the 19th century.  People came from the Luba Lunda migration, from up the Congo.  Zambia is a country that is a mishmash of people who ran away, so we always adapt.  And during the seventies and early eighties, there was a lot of influence also from the Congolese musicians, the Francos, the Tabu Leys, those big guys from that side in Congo.  Their music was also filtering down, through the copperbelt once again, because the copperbelt town of Ndola is about 60 miles from Lubumbashi.  Zambian music was also getting influence like that.  So we've always adapted and adopted.  It's one of the reasons why Zambian music doesn't have that one, particular feel, like the way to Zimbabweans have the chimurenga style, and the Congolese have different styles, the South Africans…  We are always adapting and adopting.

EDITOR’S NOTE:  Producer and musician Michael Baird, who spent his childhood in Zambia and has returned to study and record music there, has written to take issue with this statement.  Baird writes:  “There were a number of Zulu migrations of regiments fleeing Shaka's maelstrom of violence during the first half of the 19th century (into Mozambique, Zimbabwe, Malawi, Tanzania, and Zambia) and one relatively small group stayed in Zambia's Eastern Province near Chipata and call themselves the Ngoni (being an 'Nguni' people by origin). And the Lunda paramount chief in the Lunda heartland in eastern Angola sent a certain chief Kazembe to found a colony in the 17th century - and he ended up in a northern part of Luapula Province, and these people are known as Kazembe's Lunda ( one of them was the musician Nashil Pichen Kazembe). Other than these two small groups, there are no peoples within Zambia's borders who 'ran away'.”

B.E.:  I understand that President Kaunda decreed that radio broadcasts had to include a high percentage, maybe even 90% local music.  What was the effect of that?

C.F.:  Apparently, what happened was that Kaunda, during his time, was a complete and absolute leader.  Whatever he said would go.  And he was having some political problems, a bit of unrest in the country.  So one day, he was on TV or radio or something, making a speech, and then he said to the Director General of the Zambia Broadcasting Corporation at the time, "I want 75% of the music that you play on the station to be Zambian."  And from then on, of course, you have you have to fill 75% of your 18 hour a day broadcast, and it was a massive boost to the industry, because then the DJs had to play the local stuff.  Now, it had its good points and its bad points, because then what happened was, if you've got to fill 75% of 18 hours, 12 hours a day of local music, you can't keep playing the same three hits.  So a lot of stuff would come out that was, to be honest, quite rubbish.  And I think a similar thing happened in Zimbabwe a few years ago when Mugabe said 90% local content.  A lot of stuff was then coming out that was really quite rubbish.

The thing about this industry is that there is a lot of natural selection.  The music industry is Darwinism at its best.  So people will tend to buy and play the really good stuff, but if you're a broadcaster who has got 12 hours to fill, you have got to play something else.  So that now-famous decree that Kaunda did back in the 70s kind of faded away when he went out of power in ‘91, and Zambia embraced the international world.  Because we had been a bit isolated.  Now, without any political interference or decrees or anything, we’re now up to about 60 or 70% Zambian music anyway, simply due to popularity and quality, which I think it's the way things should be.

B.E.:  Let's talk about the eighties, which I  understand was a time when a lot of new styles were coming out.  The one we always hear about is kalindula.  What is kalindula?  How and when did it start as a popular, electric style?  Were there other “roots” styles that did well around the same time?

C.F.:  Kalindula music was the type of traditional music from the northern part of Zambia.  That's the Bemba groups.  They used to play a certain type of music, and then when bands started playing it within the urban arena, they would use electric guitars.  In the old days, they would use one of these big bass guitars, which I think is called a babaton.  So on a modern stage, or in the studio, they would use a normal four-string bass guitar.  Then, because of the lyrics, and the repetitive style, and also the harmonies, it became the best type of music.  But you know what happens?  One thing becomes more famous than the others, and as I've done my research, and looked around, there were other types of music that were being played around that time from different parts of Zambia.  When you listen to certain music, you can actually start to feel that this is the background where this guy is coming from.  There were other types of music like imfunkutu (from Luapula), siyomboka (from the Western province), chitelele, akalela, and mantyantya.  They were also there.  But people listened to it all collectively, and everyone referred to it as “kalindula.”  Apart from those who really, really know. 

B.E.:  That is interesting.  I understand that kalindula originally referred to a rhythm from Luapula province, but it came to refer to any electric groups playing roots music.  But you say somebody who really knows the tradition is going to be able to hear more precisely where things are coming from, ethnically.

C.F.:  That's right.  And especially for those who know the songs.  I think one of the most important figures in the development of Zambian music, and the commercialization of it, was a man called Kris Chali who led a group called Amayenge.  Amayenge were one of their leading and most prolific groups, even up to now.  They are still there, and they still produce some damn good music.  Kris Chali would take the traditional songs that he grew up listening to, that people would sing in the compounds, and he would make them commercial, and make them work.  And he had a lot of hits, because people already knew the songs, because they grew up singing them.  And it was a very clever thing.  He actually wrote very little music of his own, own, own, if you know what I mean.  It's almost blasphemous to say that.

B.E.:  Well, to me it's not.  So much of the really great African popular music of that era is just that.  It is taking a traditional song and maybe changing the words some and arranging for electric instruments so that it becomes something else.  I don't underestimate the power of that transformation, because I've seen it so many times.  To me there's nothing wrong with that it all.  Is Chris still around?

C.F.:  No, he died, I think in May 2003.  I remember where I was when I got the news.

B.E.:  Was he old?

C.F.:  No.  Look, it was the usual, man.  Actually, we need to talk about that.  I've got issues.  AIDS and the Zambian music industry.  Hmmm.  The AIDS thing had a massive impact on the Zambian music industry, and as much as we gave reasons why the music industry died in the nineties, one of the real reasons was because the people who were actually making the music also died.  And it led to a shortage in people who could actually play instruments well, who knew how to perform onstage well.  The people who actually made up the industry itself.  So when we had the renaissance in 2000, when we were starting it, I always felt that if my young artists who I was grooming and developing from scratch, had some of the old guys around to teach them, then things would move a lot better.  For example, if I was in the States, and I was trying to play a keyboard, or make some Philadelphia sounding soul music, I would look up someone like Curtis Mayfield, get some tips from him.  And you know, all well and good.  Everyone is happy.  But here in Zambia, to a large extent, a lot of young people had nobody to turn to.  So they started creating and adapting their own music at their own level.  Because most of the guys had gone on.  The question is: why did most of the old Zambian musicians die?  Because the lifestyle that they led was not conducive to staying alive.  They were not heeding the warnings.  People don't like it when I say it, but I always say it.

B.E.:  Good for you.  It has to be said.  I bet they don't like it.  That's a tough one.  It seems like the very musicians who have what it takes to get to that level, chops, the talent, the personality, are the very ones who are right in the bull's-eye of AIDS.  Especially in the eighties, when people didn't really understand what was happening.

C.F.:  That's right.

B.E.:  It seems like the AIDS story and the heyday of these roots styles like kalindula are really wound up together, because that's the eighties, right?

C.F.:  Definitely.  But you can't start listing off some of the great musicians that we lost during that time without being sued by their families.

B.E.:  I have experienced that in Zimbabwe too.  Great sensitivity.  Although less so now.  I find that today, people are little more willing to acknowledge reality.

C.F.:  100%.  We have the same thing here.  Our AIDS rate is down, or up, to about 23, 24%.  The messages are going through, and a lot of people who had it are going.  I think that's one of the simple answers.  If you got it, you're going to go.

B.E.:  Let me ask you this.  You said that you're looking for older artists to guide younger ones.

C.F.:  Mentors.

B.E.:  Exactly.  But did you also feel some need to mentor young artists about how they could avoid the same fate themselves?  Have you encouraged them to sing about AIDS, to address the subject in their music? 

C.F.:  Banning, part of my own personal history was that when I was on radio, I was also on TV doing a talk show that was based on social, family health issues, including HIV AIDS, and all the factors behind it.  So when I started my record company, in the early days, I used to have a lot of creative input and influence over what they artists would produce.  We would be working on an album together, and I would say, "Let's do a 12 track album.  I want x amount of songs about this, this, this.  I want some slow songs, and some uptempo songs."  And I would almost always insist on at least one AIDS song.

I will tell you a very funny song about one of my artists.  I had to help him out with his treatment, and I told him, "In return for this, I want you to sing a song about what you're going through right now."  And he started off by giving me something very generic, very surfacey.  And when he brought it to me, I said, "No, that's not good enough.  I want you to sing a song about what you are feeling right now, and how painful it is, and what it is."  And it actually ended up being one of the biggest and most famous popular songs.  People kind of got the message of what he was singing about, but it was the kind of thing whereby you create a song, and you couch the meaning in certain language that people would enjoy, and then they would think about it.  The AIDS message, and the old messages, things like wife beating, they still continue in the music today.  Because people, as you know, always sing about the things that they're going through, the things that their audience will relate to.

One of the best songs that references the AIDS thing is a song by Danny called "Joni" on his Yakumbuyo album.  It’s a fantastic song where he is talking about this guy called Joni, and if you listen to lyrics, you don't understand who he is talking about.  You think is talking about a person.  But he’s actually talking about his male member, or a male member.  “He's always upstanding, and he always leads me into trouble.  And he never gets thin and finishes, but all his friends get thin and finish.”  It's only when you really listen to the song, and you open your ears and OH MY GOD!  It took me months, and I published the damn thing.  So the way you do it is in metaphor and in puns and alliteration, you know, that type of thing.  That has tended to work very well.

B.E.:  That's amazing.  Now, who was the artist who sang about his treatment?

C.F.:  On the first Black Muntu album, you will find a song called “Chanigwela.”  Am I supposed to say that?  He's going to kick my ass.

B.E.:  It's interesting.  AIDS is such a pervasive subject in African popular music these days.  Everywhere.  But a lot of times the songs are so general that I'm not sure they have much impact.  People need to be amused, are shocked, or somehow surprised, don't you think?

C.F.:  To make you remember it.  Yes.  We did a song once with Nalu on the Think of Me album, which I asked the composer to write specifically, because one day we were driving along, and we were talking about something, and I said to him, "You know, a lot of wives in Africa get AIDS because they trust their husbands, and a lot of husbands are not responsible enough to realize the burden that they are holding.  There are holding their families health.  I said, ‘Write me a song where the wife is telling the husband, ‘I don't know where you are right now.  But where?  Are you with a woman?  Wherever you are, think of me and where condom.’”  That was the basic message of the song.  It was a little bit too direct.  It never took off.  I thought it was going to be controversial., but it wasn't.  You know, sometimes you shake the beehive, and no bees come out.

B.E.: Ultimately, it's the people who decide.

C.F.:  What they're going to be pissed off about.  For example, did you hear about the “Yakumbuyo” story?  The title track to Danny's album was one of the most controversial songs that has ever hit Zambian music industry, especially in recent years.  He sang a song called “Yakumbuyo,” which in Nyanja, one of our major languages, means "from behind."  He was singing a song about a guy who was his friend, who he would go out drinking with.  He would be hanging out with this guy, driving nice cars, doing all these things, but in actual fact, he was a male prostitute.  He would go to his house and find these Greek guys and these white guys, and he would ask them, "Who are you guys?"  And they would say, "No, we are just doing business."  And in the end, he realized that this guy is actually prostituting himself to these men.  And in the song, he was really like making fun of this, and making fun of the guy, but he actually use the word “yakumbuyo,” which I guess you could translate as "doggie style."  And it was a little bit too direct.  The song ended up being banned from the state radio and today, and it was such a controversy.  It was good for sales, under present good for sales.  Controversy works.

But a very funny thing happened.  There was a time when I had a TV program on local TV, state TV, ZNBC, and he went on stage and he asked people, "Which song you want?"  The producers had told him, "Don't sing that song."  So he sang one song, and the people kept saying, "No, we want ‘Yakumbuyo.’  We want ‘Yakumbuyo.’”  And in the end, he had to do it.  That was the only one time that song ever played on television.  Because it was a live program.  That was 2004.  That was a good year for me.  Oh yeah.

B.E.:  Let's talk about some of these artists.  Let's start with JK.

C.F.:  JK is referred to as Zambia's singing sensation.  He used to sing with a couple of groups in ‘99, 2000.  And then in 2001, he started recording a solo album.  We signed him up, and then he released it in December 2001.  It was self-titled, and it was the biggest, fastest, best-selling ever Zambian album.  He had a lot of love songs on it, a lot of R&B based stuff, a bit of rumba as well.  And he came with such fresh energy and vibe, it was fantastic.  And he's followed up with several albums since.  And he is still right up there.  JK is one of Zambia's leading musicians.  He is probably the one who is best known outside of Zambia.

Danny is roundabout in the same league as JK.  Danny is a Zam-raga artist.  His music is reggae based.  He's got little dreadlocks.  Danny sings more about life and the people and things that happen.  And he does sing a few love songs as well.  And his music is very popular because people always love to listen to the lyrics while they're dancing to his music, as opposed to anything else.  You've also got other great artist.  Like there's one young man called Exile.  Exile is a musical genius.  He has got lyrics and production skills.  His music is always extremely popular.  Some of his biggest hits have been things like "I'm So Lucky," and “Walimbikila.”  Last year he had a big hit with a song called “Siku Ya Lelo,” which is a wedding song, where someone singing to their beloved on their wedding day, "Today is the day when we start a new life."  It was so massively popular, especially at weddings.  It was one of those celebratory, joyous songs.

At the same time, you have also got other artists who have stuck more to the traditional, kalindula type of music.  And they're still selling quite well.  You've got groups like The Glorious Band, who had a big hit a couple of years back with a track called “Isambo Lyamfwa,” which was another social commentary song, very serious, but very funny at the same time.  It was talking about how many people are dying.  It was set in the copperbelt, and it was a story of death.  So many people are dying, and this woman, one minute, she's Mrs. Banda, then the next minute she's Mrs. Chanda, the next minute she's Mrs. So-and-So.  It was taking a sort of a comical look at the amount of funerals you go to, and about the way life is.  Because in Zambia, every three or four months you are going to a funeral.  That's how much the AIDS thing has hit us.  And groups like Glorious Band would be doing stuff like that.

B.E.:  Let me ask you about couple specific songs by JK.  Start with “Balakuzembeleka.”

C.F.:  “Balekuzembeleka” was JK's big hit.  It was the first song that got a lot of radio play from his first album.  It's a song where this guy is chasing this girl, and she's being told always funny stories about him, that and he's a player, or whatever.  And “Balekuzembeleka” literally translates, "They are Lying to You.”  “They are playing around with you.  I'm not like that,” as he says in the song.  The song was a massive, monstrous hit.  And it was a very good love song as well.

B.E.:  What about “Chituleni”?

C.F.:  “Chituleni” is a track where he was talking up to his parents, saying, "You have carried me.  You have borne me.  You have made me all these years."  The title means, "Put the Burden Down."  And he's saying to his parents, "Look, I will look after you now I will take care of you."  Because in Zambia, family is very important.  We live in extended family.  Unlike in the West, we don't put our all folks into old folks’ homes.  We keep them in our homes, and we take care of them.  When a person reaches adult maturity, it becomes incumbent on them to start looking after their parents.  So “Chituleni” is a song where the singer is saying to his parents, "It's okay.  I'm here now.  Put the burden down.  I will take care of things from here on."

B.E.:  What about the singer Mainza?  He’s got a great voice.

C.F.:  He still kicks ass.  He is not into music so much now, because his music never really sold.  It's very strange.  He sounds great, and he is great, but put him on a record, you're going to lose some money.

B.E.:  Hmm.  Maybe he's just not hitting the same emotional chords with the lyrics.

C.F.:  That's right.  He had more of the R&B style.  That was his thing.

B.E.:  The song I heard comes from a sampler CD from ZAMMO.

C.F.:  ZAMMO [http://www.zammo.net/] was another sort of competitive record company to us, operating in Mozambique as well as Zambia.  Mainza leads me onto Daddy Zemus, who is one of the most important artists.  His nickname was that King of Zam Raga.  His voice sounded like Shabba Ranks, and he had the same look, a talk, dark guy with a deep voice, and very fast, funky, funny lyrics.  We released an album by him in December of ‘99, and it was a massive hit.  Unfortunately, he then went on to develop TB, and he passed on the following year.  So he is one artist who everybody wishes was still around because during the dark days when there were no record companies getting behind people, he was the one guy kept putting things out, and trying, and keeping going.  He was like a Buddy Holly.  He never got to the Michael Jackson, I’m-not-sure-what-I’m-doing stage.

B.E.:  What about Black Muntu?

C.F.:  Black Muntu.  They were one of the early groups that we had signed with Mondo.  It was funny.  Before I started the record company, I used to do some other promotions, and we had one where we did what we called the Million Rap Match, where we said, “If you are the best rapper on our stage now, if you win the competition, then we will give you a million kwacha,” which was a bit of money at the time.  And Black Muntu was one of the groups that came along, and they were still in school.  This was in 1998, when I first met them.  They were just finishing up high school.  And I started my record company the following year.  I kept in touch with the guys, worked with them, groomed them, developed them, and we came up with an urban, funky sound, and it was extremely popular.  Their first album, Wisakamana, was like a monstrous hit.  When we were recording an album, one of the ideas that we were looking at was to come up with a song that would catch women, because rap is mostly a male thing.  Give a rapper a chance, he will start dissing people and talking about how great he is.  So I said, "Let's sing a love song."  And I gave them the example of LL Cool J.'s, "I Need Love," which was one of the biggest love song hits ever.  And they did it, and it's called “Mayo Wandi Wa Chibili,” which is basically translated as, "My Second Mother," and it was one of the most popular love songs of 2000, 2001.  It touched women.  It touched people.  I actually have that song on my phone as the ring tone for when my wife calls.  "My Second Mother.”

B.E.:  The Black Muntu song I really liked was called“Kamuboola,” from the Kokoliko CD.

C.F.:  That one is in Tonga, and funny enough, I don't speak Tonga.  So I would have to look at what the translation was.  That's one of the other important issues about what we try to do as a record company when we make music for our country.  We get the artists to record in as many languages as possible, so that everyone is included.  Because we are one Zambia, one nation.  That's our national motto.  So even if an artist can't speak or write a certain language, we would have them write a song, and then someone would translate it for them.  I always give the example of Abba, who were a Swedish group, who couldn't speak English, but they had massive hits in English.

B.E.:  What are the main languages in which you release music?

C.F.:  The two main languages spoken in Zambia are Bemba from the north, and Nyanja from the east.  In the urban areas, a lot of people speak those languages in their everyday lives.  On TV, on radio, whatever.  Just like in East Africa, everyone speaks Swahili, even though they have other languages.  In Zambia, it's Bemba and Nyanja.  But there are many others, Tonga in the south of Zambia, Lozi in the west.  Lunda, Luvale, Kaluvale from the northwestern side of Zambia, and a few other languages in between.  Those are the seven major groups.

B.E.:  Let's talk about the group Tribal Cousin.  That's an interesting CD.

C.F.:  Tribal Cousin had a massive hit, "Chipolopolo 2000.”  But it was a hit before its time, and the group wasn't mentally and psychologically ready for it.  The funny thing about Tribal Cousin was their music was brilliant.  One of the best songs was “Niwe.”  It's a slow song.  They had the rumba sounding stuff like “Irene Njikata.”  Very fast, funk, funky music.  Tribal Cousin had energy and vibe.  They really brought something to the table.

B.E.:  But the CD didn't sell?

C.F.:  No, it didn't sell.  As a people, as a group.  You know what I mean.  You've been in this industry for a long time.  It's more than the music.

B.E.:  It's the whole personality that comes across.

C.F.:  People have got to like you.

B.E.:  What about Red Linso?  That's another interesting CD, more in the hip hop vein.

C.F.:  He is another similar artist, exactly the same story, where his music is very popular but sales are very thin.  There's also a certain element.  I would say that in America, they have managed to harness and commercialize hip-hop, whereby, despite the fact that the main target of hip-hop was the urban youth, and the ghettos and whatever, they managed to get other people to buy it.  And that's what gives the industry going.  Whereas in countries like Zambia, some of the hip-hop stuff…  Like for example, in our record company, a straight hip-hop artist doing rap, we are unlikely to do anything with it.  But if you can make it somehow commercial, so it crosses over to another market, then we can do something.  Because some people, the music is very popular on radio, very popular, but when it comes time for actually buying copies, dollars and cents, which is what record companies date, nothing happens.

C.F.:  Oh, TY2 [pronounced TIE-TOO].  We nicknamed him “the man with a dangerous voice.”  He's gone to study in the UK, because he's quite young, 21, 22.  And he came along with a very nice raga style.  And his nickname came from the fact that he wasn't that tall, and our former president, Frederick Chiluba, wasn't that tall either.  So he took TY2 as a stage name when he started his career.  He had some very, very, very good music.  Smile was a massive hit. 

B.E.:  Yeah, that's a good record.  What about that slow, reggae song “Nimakolota”?
 
C.F.:  “Nimakalota.”  “I Dream of You."  It's basically a love song.  The TY2 album sold quite well.  It was very strong.  He went on to do another album.

B.E.:  What’s the story of Maureen Lupo Lilanda?

C.F.:  Maureen Lilanda.  She is currently they leading lady of Zambian music.  We have actually never signed any of her albums.  [She’s on another label, ZAMMO.]  But she's very well-respected.  Her music is mature and serious.  She's very good, cabaret wise onstage.  She’s had a few very good hits.  Like Daddy Zemus, she's one of those who kept the flame going during those dark days, and inspired a lot of young girls of today.  Like our latest artist, Lily Tembo.  She is to be a backup singer for Maureen, many years ago.

B.E.:  Now, I'm going to ask you about some of these guitar groups, starting with Uweka Stars, from your Sounds of Zambia, Vol. 1 CD.

C.F.:  Yeah, that's "Grace," right?  It was a good song.  I was very happy to buy the rights out for that one.  Uweka Stars.  Nothing much has really known about the band itself.  There was a bar in one of the compounds in Zambia called the Uweka Bar, and the band is to play their call themselves the Uweka Stars.  Then one day, they went into the studio recorded that.  They have all passed on now, but they were just one of those one-hit wonders that comes along now and again and leaves us something good.

B.E.:  What about the Black Power Band?

C.F.: The Black Power Band.  Yeah, they had a massive hit with that song“Imisango Ya Ba Chairman.”  Which was a very good song.  It was also banned from radio during the one party UNIP days.  [UNIP was Kenneth Kaunda’s ruling party.]  During the one-party days, the party chairman—that would be the chairman of a certain district or ward in the area—he would be very powerful in his today, and in the song, the guys were singing about this chairman who is basically up to no good.  He was abusing his power and authority.  And some people in the UNIP, the governing party at the time, had the song banned, and when President Kaunda heard about it, he asked, "Why did you ban it?"  No one could give him a straight answer and the song came back on radio.  Great song.

B.E.:  What does the title mean?

C.F.:  The habits, or the ways of the chairman. 

B.E.:  So the people who banned that song were just wary of any talk about the chairman.  Or was there something paper and the song? 

C.F.:  That's right.  I think somebody in their own circles where they came from was offended.  Somebody realized that they were singing about him, and he exerted some power.

B.E.:  You have released some very nice retrospective CDs, the Zambian Legends CDs, like this one by Serenje Kalindula.

C.F.:  Yeah.  Symani Kaseba was with us until up to a few years ago.  I think they’re all late now.

B.E.:  I understand that his group, Serenje Kalindula, really started the whole kalindula craze.

C.F.:  They came along after some of the other Zamrock groups were dying out, and they just did kalindula.  Their leader was from a part of north-central Zambia, a town called Serenje.  I think he named his band that way just to tell people that this is what they would hear, kalindula music.  They had some very good hits on that album.

B.E.:  Yeah, like what about this song "Elo Yalila”?

C.F.:  “Elo Yalila.”  It's pretty much just saying, “It's cutting.  It's happening.  This is it."  It's not a deep, Grammy award-winning, Oscar moment.  It's a party song.  Let's get it on!

B.E.:  What about “ Zambia Eleven”?

C.F.:  That was a song about the football team.  The Zambian team called itself the Zambia Eleven, at one point, amongst its many names.  And it was just a song about the team of that particular time.

B.E.:  Another or you're Legends releases was by John and Joyce Nyirongo.  What's their story?

C.F.:  John Nyirongo was one of the unsung heroes.  He was never as famous, and as massively big as some of the other Zambian artists, like Paul Ngozi.  But he was one who, when you listened to his music and his vibe, you actually got something out of it.  He had some pretty good hits as well.  And his younger sister Joyce, she sang some of the other stuff that he did for her as well.  She never really reached the hundred-percent levels of hit status, and dying rich, and so forth.  But her music lives on to this day.  It was always music from the heart.

B.E.:  Are they still around?

C.F.:  No.  Of those four Zambia Legend albums, only one person one of the lead singer so the Oliya Band, is still with us.  When I told your, Banning, that the AIDS thing really hit, I meant it.

B.E.:  I really like that song “Mate,” by John and Joyce Nyirongo.

C.F.:  Ah, “Mate.”  This was a very big hit.  It was about a woman complaining about the bad relatives of her husband, Mate.  She marries this man, and then she finds out that he's been married before.  It was one of those running story is that John Nyirongo and his sister did.  They did this song, and then the following year, they would continue the story, and take it another way.  Do you remember that whole Woman to Woman thing with Shirley Brown?  Shirley Brown and Barbara Mason and that thing where they were playing off each other about this guy that they were stealing from each other?  It was sort of her running thing.  On the Sounds of Zambia, Vol. 1, there is a song called “Ngomwa,” to that song "Mate.”  I think he finally got rid of her, that wife, but she now says, "But hold on, I now have a child."  Because he got rid of her because she wasn't having any children, and then she realized that the reason she wasn't having children was because the husband was the one who was infertile!  I heard “Ngomwa” first, and then I heard “Mate” later on.  And that's when I put the two together.  "Okay, I see what's going on here."

B.E.:  Then we have a young singer who is also going that rootsy, guitar pop direction.  I don't think she's on your label, but her name is Cha.

C.F.:  Cha.  Oh, that was another ZAMMO one.  I can't tell you that much about her.  She had that one hit called “Kapolio.”  It was played on radio little bit.  It didn't really go anywhere, but it was quite a good song.  I liked it myself, actually.  If I remember correctly, it was about this man who would always go a little mad when it came to month’s end.  He would go wild, and he wouldn't come home.  He would finish up all his money drinking and women, and his family would be suffering for the next month.

B.E.:  She also has a great song called “Pakawama.”

C.F.:  That means, “It Will Be Good.”

B.E.:  What about Brian Chulala?

C.F.:  Brian Chulala.  He has been nicknamed as “the rebel of Zambian music.”  He used to be a member of Amayenge.  He was one of the first people to leave Amayenge and strike out on his own.  He left the shadow of the late Chris Chali, and he started releasing his own music.  He’s had about four albums, of which Mondo released one, the album Mwalaba.  Though it didn't reach the commercial success that we have hope it would, it was some of the great music.  And he's also a very good guy.  Brian Chulala sticks more to the traditional, kalindula type of sound.  It's guitar lead.  And onstage, Brian is a monster.  He's got so much energy, and so much vibe, and he's got maturity, because he's in his forties.  He's been around awhile, and he's done it.  He has had hits over the years.  There was one called "Cellular Phone," in which he was talking about how in the beginning, cellular phones were for the upper members, the rich.  And then in the end, they became sort of cheapened.  And then he had one called "Masanje,” which was about people's jealousy.  So he has had a few hits over the years that always come to mind, and people remember.

B.E.:  Then there’s this gospel record.  Hosanna Gospel Band.  What can you tell me about them?

C.F.:  Hosanna Gospel Band.  They were part of a group called Lumbani Madoda, which was a band from one of the born-again churches here at Lusaka.  And they struck off from Lumbani and formed their own band, and we signed them up, because the first group had been very successful.  Their music is based on all the traditional musics out there.  And they're putting out their Gospel message of praise in a very traditional, dance-Gospel style.  One of the descriptions we used for it is this is music for people who are now born-again, but they still miss having a good bogey.  So they can still boogie with that.  The boogie born-again, rumba-born again music is one of the most popular styles around here.  You go to one of the big crusades and you find people really dancing and having a good time, but the message is there.

B.E.:  That's interesting.  Because often African gospel music is the opposite of boogie.  This is something very different.

C.F.:  Part of that is because some of the guys who were making this music, they are guys in their forties, and you know, when you're born-again, you are supposed to give up your old ways.  But some of these guys, when it came to music, they couldn't give up their old ways.  They believed that music was supposed to enlighten, and enliven, and make you dance.  There are quite a few people around to make that kind of music, and there was quite a lot of debate among the Christian born-again circles a year or so ago, about how people should dance to this type of music.  Because when you're dancing to the original, traditional music, there's a lot of gyrations.  Let's put it this way: dancing is sexual.  And so there was a debate about how people should be dancing to this music, and what's going on, and what, what, what.  And I think it all just sort of died away as people got on with enjoying the music, or not.  And so I think there's two kinds of gospel music.  There's the slow stuff, piano, keyboard stuff.  And then there's the, Let’s boogie!

There's another artist called Jojo Mangaza.  He's a Congolese guy, but he's based here in Zambia, and his style is 100%.  He is solid.  He just goes out there to boogie.  At about eight tracks on his album, three or four of them will be really boogie stuff, and any other five will be the more slow, piano, keyboard stuff.

B.E.:  How big is Zambian gospel music now?

C.F.:  Zambia is a Christian nation, and the gospel music scene is humongous.  There are lots of different styles, and lots of different records, lots of different capacities.  It sells quite strongly, especially the stuff that crosses over.  Sometimes you're dancing to a song but you don't know is gospel, until you listen to the words.  Oh, okay.  And that’s some of the stuff that really sells the best.  As a music producer, it's one of the most important issues.  Gospel music should reach out to people who don't know what, so that they actually also listen to the words.

B.E.:  Over the course of all this history and music, we hear influences from other countries: US country music for copperbelt guitar minstrels, rumba from Congo, South African music, Zimbabwe?, and now rap, raga, R&B, hip hop.  How have Zambian musicians—then and now—worked to establish a local identity while still embracing these trends?  To some ears much of the current crop of Zambian music sounds overwhelmingly influenced by American and Jamaican music.  Do you worry that today’s musicians have given up too much local identity?

C.F.:  It's a great question, Banning.  What I've done, first of all as a businessman, it's for the money.  If the local people want a certain type of music, then we will produce and publish it for them.  That's simply that.  If we don't, someone else will, and we want to be the leading record company.  We are the leading record company in Zambia, so we will do that.  My thoughts really are that Zambian music has never had that much of the strong personality.  It's always been more adaptive.  It's the kind of thing whereby if it lived in America, it would take an American accent.  If it lived in Australia, it would take an Australian accent.  So we are waiting for the day when the music does get to have its own personality, and people will be able to hear two bars of a song and say, "Oh, I know where that's from.  That must be from Zambia."  It hasn't happened yet.  There are different styles that come up and dominate for a little while in the Zambian music circles, and then other people don't take them up.  I always blame the musicians themselves.  I say, "You guys can only make something really happened internationally that is recognizable if you copy each other, emulate, develop, and formulate."  It's one of those things.  It just doesn't seem to happened.  Everybody just seems to adapt and adopt, and we always have, adapted and adopted.

B.E.:  That's interesting.  Is this something that artists talk about as a goal?

C.F.:  I don't think a lot of Zambian artists are really thinking about it that much.  We are a pretty poor country.  Our per capita income is low.  A lot of people living under a dollar a day.  I think most people are just basically trying to make something and get on with the situation that they're in.  So that's not their priority.  Let me be honest.  And a funny thing is, as a record company working in Africa, one of the things we've noticed is that a lot of the music that's very popular outside of Zambia, is not the stuff that's most popular inside of Zambia.  And across Africa, there's this new thing of urban, African music.  If you look at Kenya, you've got groups like Gidigidi Majimaji who make brilliant hip-hop.  That's all it is.  It's just hip-hop.  And that music, I can tell you, sells massively well here in Zambia.  That is what people want.  They’re listening to 50 Cent, Eminem, Kelly Clarkson, and they want that.  So I'm not sure where the future of African music is.  Whether we’re all going to homogenize into this one type of sound that everybody's happy with, or whether people are going to keep pioneering these new styles.

Of course, we know in music if you don't change and adapt and present something new, then it won't work in the long-term.  So we hope that something will come out of it and develop, but it's something that can't be forced.  You can't force a musician to make a certain kind of music, because first of all, he wants to get paid.

B.E.:  One last question.  What has been the role of politics in popular music in Zambia, during colonialism, the Kaunda years, and now?

C.F.:  Politics and Zambian music.  Zambia's are not a very political people.  We are very polite, even obsequious; we are very reverential towards authority.  Every once in a while, an artist will come along with a political song.  An example would be on the Daddy Zemus thing we did in ‘99.  He had a song called "Fatness.”  The chorus was SINGS, which means, "When are we going to get fat?  When are we going to get fat like some of these big men that we see around.  We see politicians going around driving these big cars."  It was banned on radio.  It did not last very long.

B.E.:  So they don't hesitate to ban a song if they feel it has crossed the line.

C.F.:  No.  Definitely not.  I mean that is the type of African culture that we have.  Here in Africa, we work for politicians, whereas in the Western world, the politicians work for the people.  So in general, politics rears its head every once in awhile, but not generally.  We don't have artists like Thomas Mapfumo will openly defy the authority of a political figure.  It just doesn't happen here in Zambia.  Not because we as a record company wouldn't release it.  It's just the artists themselves, they just don't.

B.E.:  I suppose if a lot of artists did, your life would become a lot more difficult.  You would probably have issues with the government.

C.F.:  We would.  But at the same time, I think we've reached the point where we've had some very controversial music that has been banned on the radio.  We don't hesitate.  We as a record company know that we are making music for the people.  "Fatness" was the first song of ours that was banned in 1999, 2000.  And then we had “Yakumbuyo” itself, which was talking about the homosexual thing.  Then the last track we had that was banned was a song called “Mwe Makufi,” which was by a brilliant young gospel artist called Nathan Nyarenda.  He was singing about how Zambians were on their knees begging to God to deliver them a better country.  And some of the politicians didn't like it, but it's one of the best songs, and one of the most popular, fastest selling songs.  It was brilliant.  It really moved here from the heart.

B.E.:  I have certainly seen that in Zimbabwe.  When it banned songs, sometimes they become huge hits.

C.F.:  I think you might even and the program with that “Mwe Makufi.”  It's a great song.

B.E.:  Thanks, Chisha.  You’ve taught us a lot.

C.F.:  Thank you.

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