On 'World' Music
8 min read
Last tended to: 7 months ago
In our increasingly interconnected world, where cultures and traditions blend and interact, the way we categorize and talk about music is more important than ever. The term “world music,” a commonly used label for anything that falls outside the Western musical tradition, has been a subject of contention for years. This term, while it may seem harmless or even inclusive at first glance, actually carries with it a host of problematic implications. It’s a topic that demands a nuanced discussion, one that I feel is crucial as we navigate the complexities of cultural exchange and representation in the 21st century.
When we refer to non-Western music as “world music,” we are, perhaps unwittingly, imposing a cultural hierarchy. This classification subtly suggests that Western music is the norm, the universal benchmark, while music from other parts of the world is relegated to a special, niche category. This isn’t just an issue of semantics; it’s a reflection of a deeper, more insidious mentality that has its roots in colonialism. The narrative that non-Western cultures and their artistic expressions are somehow secondary or lesser than their Western counterparts is an outdated notion, yet it continues to echo through our contemporary classifications and discussions.
Take, for example, my own interactions with music. Whenever I add new tracks from diverse cultures to my Apple Music library, I make it a point to change the ‘World’ genre category. It might seem like a small gesture, but it’s my way of rejecting this implicit hierarchy. It’s a personal stance against a classification system that, in my view, does more harm than good.
The term “world music” not only establishes a hierarchy but also leads to a dangerous oversimplification of rich and diverse musical traditions. By lumping together all non-Western music into one broad category, we lose the nuances and unique identities of each culture’s musical heritage. The intricate classical ragas of India, the soul-stirring Cumbia of Colombia, and the vibrant Afrobeat from Nigeria - each of these represents a complex musical tradition with its own history, rules, and cultural significance. To ignore these distinctions is to do a disservice to the artists and the cultures they represent.
This oversimplification isn’t just an academic concern; it has real-world implications for the musicians and their communities. When we fail to acknowledge the diversity within the “world music” category, we are effectively erasing the individuality of these artists. They become faceless representatives of an exotic other, rather than respected musicians in their own right. This can impact how they are viewed and valued, both within their communities and on the global stage.
Moreover, the commercialization of non-Western music under the umbrella of “world music” often leads to economic exploitation. The global music industry, driven by profit and marketability, tends to commodify these musical traditions. Artists from non-Western countries are frequently underpaid and undervalued, their music repackaged and sold without them seeing fair financial return. In some cases, the unique aspects of their music are watered down or altered to make them more palatable to Western audiences, stripping away the essence of the original art form.
This commodification is closely tied to the issues of cultural appropriation and misrepresentation. In the quest to make non-Western music more marketable, elements are often borrowed out of context, leading to a superficial and sometimes disrespectful portrayal of these cultures. When Western artists incorporate sounds or styles from non-Western music without a deep understanding of their cultural significance, they risk perpetuating stereotypes and misrepresentations.
In my journey as a music enthusiast, I have witnessed how cultural appropriation in music is not just about borrowing sounds or instruments; it’s about power dynamics. It’s about who gets to tell the story and who profits from it. When Western artists use elements of non-Western music in their work without proper credit or understanding, they contribute to a narrative that devalues the original creators and their cultural heritage.
So, what’s the alternative? There’s a growing movement within the music industry and among scholars and enthusiasts to rethink the way we categorize and discuss global music. This movement calls for abandoning the term “world music” in favour of more specific and respectful terminology. Rather than lumping diverse musical traditions into one vague category, we should strive to recognize and appreciate the individuality of each. This change goes beyond mere words; it’s about adopting a new perspective, one that values cultural exchange and understanding oversimplification and commodification.
This shift in perspective is crucial in a world where cultural exchange is more prevalent than ever. Music has always been a powerful medium for cross-cultural communication, and in the age of the internet and global travel, it has the potential to bring us closer together, to foster a deeper understanding and appreciation of our shared humanity. But to do so, we need to approach it with respect and mindfulness.
Essentially, the way we talk about music matters. It reflects our values, our attitudes, and our understanding of the world. By moving away from the term”world music” and embracing a more nuanced and respectful approach to global music, we can begin to address the implicit hierarchies and oversimplifications it perpetuates. This is more than just a semantic change; it’s a step towards a deeper appreciation and understanding of the rich tapestry of global musical traditions. It’s about recognizing that each musical culture, with its unique history and intricacies, deserves to be appreciated on its terms, not just as an exotic counterpart to the Western norm.
In my own experience, this approach has transformed how I interact with music from different cultures. It’s led me to explore the stories behind the songs, the histories of the instruments, and the lives of the artists. This journey has been enlightening, revealing the depth and complexity of musical traditions that were once foreign and distant to me. It has also been humbling, as I’ve come to realize the vastness of what I do not know and the importance of approaching other cultures with respect and openness.
This isn’t to say that we should shy away from enjoying and celebrating music from different parts of the world. On the contrary, we should embrace the diversity of global music with enthusiasm. But our enjoyment should be accompanied by a commitment to understanding and respect. We should be curious about the origins of the music we listen to, mindful of the contexts from which it emerges, and sensitive to the meanings it holds for its creators and their communities.
Moreover, as listeners and consumers, we have a role to play in challenging the structures within the music industry that perpetuate these problems. We can support artists directly, seek out music that represents a wide range of cultures respectfully and authentically, and be conscious of the narratives we perpetuate through our music choices.
In the realm of music education, too, there is much work to be done. Western classical and popular music have long dominated curricula, leaving little room for the exploration of non-Western musical traditions. By expanding our educational frameworks to include a wider range of musical cultures, taught with the same depth and seriousness as Western music, we can begin to dismantle the hierarchies that have long shaped our understanding of the musical world.
The issues surrounding the term “world music” and the broader questions of cultural representation and appropriation in music are complex and multifaceted. There are no easy answers, and the path forward requires ongoing dialogue, self-reflection, and a willingness to listen and learn. But by acknowledging these issues and taking steps to address them, we can move towards a more inclusive, respectful, and enriching musical world.
In the end, music is a universal language, but it speaks with many accents and dialects. It tells the stories of people and places, of struggles and celebrations, of history and hope. By listening closely, with an open heart and an open mind, we can hear not just the notes and the rhythms, but the rich tapestry of human experience that music weaves. In doing so, we can find not only entertainment but also empathy, understanding, and connection in a world that is ever more interconnected yet still deeply divided. This is the power of music, and it is a power that we should wield with both joy and responsibility.