For the other half of the story check The Globe.

This is my new favorite music group, Up, Bustle and Out!. Originally represented by the legendary label Ninja Tunes, these guys are the king of the remix. I have been listening to the Mexican Sessions non-stop for the last 24-hours since Josue sent it to me. I feel so guilty when I listen to them, but I feel like they're the perfect soundtrack to my last post. My love affair for this group lead me to their MySpace page (okay fine, so I use it sometimes), and I posted a comment to share a bit of love/confusion. The conversation unfurls below:

i heart heart heart mexican sessions. dub plus cumbia = mi mejor amigo en el mundo. has escuchado del disco de la calle "reggae azteca". muy muy buena musica. but my question is, what does this all mean? this global mashup of pop culture. has anyone ever been mad at you for stealing their tunes? their culture? dime que piensas.

----------------- Original Message -----------------
From: Up, Bustle and Out
Date: 25/09/2007


Hi qnp,
we are glad you enjoy the sounds.
I don't think anyone has complained about 'stealing their culture', we worked with many Mexican musicians to create this album.
And anyway, all cultures take their influences from other cultures. If you look how Jazz, Hip Hop, Rock and Dance have fused with all the many world cultures you will see that there is no 'cultural apartheid'. Everyone just wants to make music that people will enjoy, it's simple!
Best regards - Ein (UB&O)

-----------------------------------



Hey Ein,

Thanks for replying so quick. That's really cool that you were working with the actual artists in the studio. I'd love to read more about the process of making the CD. Are there any articles online about it? I'm really into Latin American Studies and Remix culture, so your disk is super interesting for me. If there aren't any articles online, I'd love to do an interview with you as I think it would be a really interesting piece. I disagree that there is no cultural apartheid, as the mainstream media definitely privileges western definitions of what is cool/beautiful. I think the interesting point lies where the remix and new media can reconstruct these media hegemonies and rewrite the story.

I'm interested to learn more!

Lisa

I am writing up my plan of study for my Master of Environmental Studies, pitching the idea of using How Inappropriate: An Exploration of Cultural Appropriation as a jumping ground for a global youth anti-racist mash-up video project and I realized that I'm almost at 1000 hits!

As much reading and thinking that I've done on this issue, I still have milestones to go in terms of perfecting my analysis. This weekend was a good learning point, as I hung out all day Sunday at Manifesto at Nathan Phillips Square at the Youth Action Network (YAN) booth. Bayan and I hung out for a good 6 hours, checking out other cool youth-run NGOs and young artrepreneurs. Bayan is in High School and is YAN's new finance director, and happens to be a young genius. We spent the day talking about linguistic anthropology, arab culture, hip hop, and cultural appropriation. As I stated in a previous post, keffiyehs are the new dreadlocks, and youth across the city are embracing this cultural symbol of resistance and dumbing it down to pure looks.



So as Bayan and I ooed and aahed at the various ways that hip[hop]sters have adopted arabic fashion, I began to question my own adaption from other cultures. Wikipedia states;

Keffiyehs became trendy in Israel in the 1970s and are still trendy. They also became popular in the United States in the late 1980s, at the start of the First Intifada, when bohemian girls wore keffiyehs as scarves around their necks. In the early 2000s, keffiyehs were very popular among youths in Tokyo, who often wore them with camouflage clothing. The trend recurred in the mid-2000s in the United States, Europe, and Australia, when the keffiyeh became popular as a fashion accessory, usually worn as a scarf around the neck in hipster circles. Stores such as Urban Outfitters and TopShop stocked the item. (After some controversy, however, Urban Outfitters pulled the item.) In April 2007 the Manchester branch of Urban Outfitters re-instated the item as the fashion trend took off again.

I have to admit, I own a keffiyeh. I bought one in Jaffa, and I remember the curious look the shop keeper gave me. I wore it right before I journeyed to the West Bank to volunteer for 10-days with the International Solidarity Movement. For me my keffiyeh is a symbol of solidarity, but I question when myself about when I bring it out, when I feel comfortable wearing it. After Bayan and my discussion, I brought my keffiyeh back out of the closet. Yesterday I wrote it out, and today as well, but I couldn't help but notice a tinge of discomfort in myself. Why do I like to wear it, because it is cool or because it is political? Am I drawing on resistance movements for my fashion statements? Does that commodify, recodifying or depoliticize them?

What do you think about non-arab peoples sporting the keffiyeh?

post-structural
objective subjectivities
triangularly hover
reflecting inductive meanings
hegemonic histories unravel
through dialectical reinterpretations