No Agreement: The Hypocritical Commercialization of Fela’s Legacy   “No agreement today/ No agreement tomorrow/” —Fela Anikulapo Kuti (With Africa 70), “No Agreement,” No Agreement, 1977. I’m sorry: It’s not enough to simply watch “Music is the Weapon,” or pour through Michael Veal’s impressive biography, Fela: The Life And Times Of An African Musical Icon, or, for the younger ones, bob your heads frantically to the pulsating polyrhythms of Red Hot + Riot: The Music and Spirit of Fela Kuti. Nope! There’s a Fela hysteria sweeping the nation, captivating minds that ordinarily wouldn’t have nothing to do with Afrobeat, or couldn’t tell you what place on the world map Nigeria is located. But this is the sort of event those of us who not only grew up listening to Fela, but grew up in the conditions he spoke life and meaning to, saw approaching a million miles away. We knew the same cast that commercialized Bob Marley’s legacy, and reduced his politically-charged music to mere aestheticism, had eyes set on an equally great icon—Fela Anikulapo Kuti.  Hollywood liberal commercialization of Black culture is nothing new. For as far back as history dates, the relationship of Blacks with Hollywood has been of co-optation and commodification. Nothing new here. But Hollywood especially prefers these Black rebellious souls when dead or too impotent to fight back. Tupac and Muhammad Ali are two succinct examples. When alive or, in Ali’s case, alive!, both were reviled by the White bourgeoisie of Hollywood, portrayed as miscreants with maniacal motives. Both caught hell for bearing their heart out and telling the white world what it needed to hear from a people taught to bow and scrap before their former masters’ offspring. Both faced the brutal backlash of a White majority not too fond of indignation from Negroes. But since death—in Tupac’s case—and since retirement—in Ali’s case—both have been resurrected as mainstream icons, accepted and appreciated by former presidents, current presidents, and, as was revealed a couple of weeks back, even the Vatican. It’s hard to miss why: When alive and in the prime of their youth, both—in equal measure—could push back hard against any attempts to be made into caricatures by Hollywood’s billion dollar machine. But, as confirmed with Will Smith’s horrendous portrayal of Ali in the 2001 biopic, in due time even historical facts could be rewritten and rearranged to meet specific agendas. This should give worry to anyone familiar with Fela’s true legacy. Those who were in touch with his music understood how much a threat he was to General Sani Abacha’s regime of terror, not only for his courageous songs of protest but for his growing popularity amongst oppressed peoples in Nigeria—and beyond. Fela was also a threat because, unlike musicians before him, he saw the unity of African countries as more important than the singular independence of those same countries from forces of colonialism. Fela was a miracle to millions whose freedoms had been truncated to stash the trunks of dictators and money-worshipping embezzlers. No artist before him had spoken with such unflinching candor to authority figures whose names immediately conjured urban legends of mass-executions, mass-graves, and mass kidnappings. Fela wasn’t just some half-naked multi-instrumentalist secluded in a “Shrine.” The music was, yes, integral to his mission; but the message was more important. Fela understood, much like Paulo Freire did (Pedagogy of the Opressed), that to help an oppressed people out of their subdued state, the pedagogue, or musician in Fela’s case, had to minister to them in ways unlike that which the oppressor had used to keep them fearful and feckless. Any attempt to reach them couldn’t be didactic or condescending. The agent had to walk amongst the people—not ahead of them. The agent had to speak to the people—not over them. Fela mastered these concepts and, in short time, rose as leader of a revolution threatening to bring back power to the disenfranchised. “No agreement now, later, never, and ever/” But Fela also knew more was at stake. He knew without the backing of megalomaniac Western companies and governments, most of those leaders couldn’t carry out serial crimes against their own people. When he toured the U.S. in the late ‘60s, the militancy of Malcolm X and the Black Panther Party helped put in perspective many of the ideas he had about liberating Africa from its oppressors’ grips. And as he prescribed much later on, the key to African unity was simple: “No Marxism, no Leninism, no Capitalism—Africanism.” This made Fela an even greater threat—to Western powers. Fela understood that, since the advent of colonialism, any African who dared unite Africa faced not only insurmountable obstacles but also the very real prospect of death. Kwame Nkrumah was living proof. Today, rarely are these issues discussed. What we have, instead, is a fetishization of Fela’s legacy—a hypocritical commercialization that seeks to rebrand that ferocious rebel into a commodity. Now, you can go to the store or Broadway and purchase a piece of Fela. It was surprising to read the New York Times review of the hit Broadway show, “FELA!” Hardly a progressive or leftist or liberal establishment, the Times hasn’t been too kind to Fela in the past. More than two decades ago, when “Music is the Weapon” was first released, a Times critic, John Corry, complained that “Fela’s accent may make him unintelligible to American listeners.” Strike one! He went further in disparaging the “careless thinking” of the “romantic French film makers” who let Fela tell lies about the evils of his government: “In 1979, in an extraordinary experiment in democracy, the military government voluntarily returned the country to civilian rule. A country made up of 250 ethnic groups held elections. The military replaced the civilian government in December 1983, at the time he was interviewed, Fela was living in a free society.” Strike two! (Never mind that Fela was arrested some 356 times for his activism.) This great apologist for the evils governments do felt so swell about his astute […]

We recently highlighted major trends of 2009 in the urban market. Now it’s time to focus in on key pieces of the year and vote on whether they have longevity or not.   Cassie   Cassie is rocking one of them above – the romper. This one piece delight is made in all different fabrics and fits, and saves a lot of time for us ladies when it comes to matching up tops and bottoms!   Do you think it will stick around for a while?     The harem or “MC Hammer” pant is a questionable piece, flattering in some cases and not so much in others. This pant comes in various fabrics, lengths and degrees of bagginess.     Oh, the leotard. We saw it go from Rihanna‘s on stage attire to everyday wear. Do you think this trend will continue spreading or disintegrate quickly? It requires lots of confidence, especially when worn without tights like Nicki Minaj did above.     With the rock trend being such a hit this year, it was inevitable that leather would takeover everything from pants to dresses and tops. Leather (or even faux leather) leggings and pants were rocked from the office to the club in many cases this year. Are you sick of seeing this look?     Buffalo plaid…seriously, it has been everywhere this year. Black combined with yellow, pink, teal, purple, blue – you name it. While well known brands were knocking them out, so were stores like Forever 21 and Strawberry under private labels or generic brand names. Lately we’ve been seeing brands flirt with variations on the typical check design. Is it played out?     After a period of clean denim being in, heavily destructed denim took the stage. Bleached, ripped, distressed – have we had enough of these loud styles? Is it back to clean, crisp denim soon?     Ah, the murse. With fans like Kanye assisting in their popularity, and brands like COOGI creating some dope designs, will more men start carrying them?   DSquared   Short(er) shorts for men. It may be a runway image you see above, but even urban brands like CAVI and LRG have started slimming their shorts’ fits and cutting them just above the knee. Are the days of drooping, wide shorts over?   Chris Brown   Flashy high top sneakers in bright or shiny metallic colors – will they have to make room for the cleaner more understated kicks?   Let us know your thoughts, and if we missed any other notable fashion pieces of 2009!