Sweet and Dangerous Music: Soundtrack For A Secret Country
By Aziz Choudry
ZNET
Commentary
November 07, 2002
Music has moved many of us to act, and inspires us in our work
for justice and liberation. Close friends and comrades tell of
how music has helped form, frame and inflame their political consciousness
and hunger for justice. While much of the world is being colonised
and doped up with formularized vacuous corporate pop/pap, music
and the other arts still communicate with our hearts, minds and
spirits, to sustain, nourish and move people in ways that articles,
books and speeches perhaps donıt.
The words and music of Australian singer-songwriter Shane Howard
(www.shanehoward.com.au) have occupied an important space in my
life during the past twenty years. In 1982 I scoured Londonıs
record stores for a pricey imported copy of Goannaıs "Spirit of
Place" LP, after hearing Howardıs "Solid Rock (Sacred Ground)",
an indictment of the colonisation and dispossession of Indigenous
Peoples in Australia. Howard has written many other equally fine
and powerful songs, but few pieces of music have ever resonated
as strongly with me. It was the first time I recall hearing the
word "genocide" in a song.
"They were standing on the shore one day Saw the white sails
in the sun Wasnıt long before they felt the sting White man
white law white gun Don ıt tell me that itıs justified Cause
somewhere Someone lied Someone died Genocide"
In an interview with Goldmine (May 2002) Howard described his
feelings about a visit to Uluru (Ayers Rock) and Alice Springs
in central Australia which led him to write the song. "I realised
that this country that I grew up in, that I thought was my country,
it wasnıt. I had to reassess my whole relationship with the land
and the landscape, and understand that we had come from somewhere
else, and we had disempowered a whole race of people when we arrived."
In 1986 I lived and worked in Australia, saw Goanna in concert
in Melbourne and found that the words and music of Goanna, Shane
Howard, and his sometimes co-writer and bandmate, Aboriginal musician
and poet Bart Willoughby, greatly helped me to understand what
John Pilger has aptly dubbed "A Secret Country". While there,
I hitchhiked along the Great Ocean Road through Gunditjmarra country,
in South West Victoria, where Howardıs musical family and Goanna
hail from, still home to a vibrant and politically engaged music
scene of black and white musicians, many of them recording in
the same folk/rock idiom.
Since then, from London to Lahore, Melbourne to Montreal, Howardıs
songs have never been far away from me. They have been havens
of refuge and relief in my personal and political life as I have
battled to make sense of what one of his songs calls "a world
all cut up with barbed wire fences" ("Free As Stone").
Living in Aotearoa (New Zealand), another white colonial settler
state, working for social and economic justice, and in support
of struggles for Indigenous Peoplesı self-determination, they
have been touchstones for much of my activism. Goanna recorded
two other albums, "Oceania" and "Spirit Returns", combining Howardıs
songwriting, singing and playing with those of his sister Marcia
and Rose Bygrave, both fine writers and singers in their own right
(see my review of Bygraveıs impressive 2001 CD, "Walking Home",
at www.voiceoftheturtle.org/reviews/music). In 1983, Goanna recorded
Howardıs "Let The Franklin Flow" as a single and released it under
the pseudonym Gordon Franklin and the Wilderness Ensemble. The
song, written after Howard had joined the major protest actions
against the proposed damming of Tasmaniaıs pristine Franklin River,
hit the Australian top 20 and became an anthem for the movement
which ultimately won the fight to stop the dam and an ecological
disaster. Just as his music reflects the landscapes of Australia,
a passion for environmental justice has remained a major theme
in his work.
Shane Howard has released six solo CDs, the latest of which,
last yearıs self-financed and produced "Beyond Hopeıs Bridge",
is a masterpiece of Irish influenced Australian folk music.
Musically and lyrically Howard has increasingly reflected on
the history of his forebears that fled to Australia from Ireland
during the Famine in the 1850s: "What I saw when in time we reached
that fatal shore Men whose crime was to defend their native land
and lore Dark skinned men with noble heads bound in iron chains
Native people at the mercy of my same oppressorıs reign" ("Silvermines",
from "Clan", 1996)
Building on his folk music roots, his journeys to Ireland and
connections with many Irish musicians have deeply enriched his
recordings musically and thematically as he looked at his own
history and drew parallels between the Irish experience of dispossession
and emigration, and the colonisation of Australia. At the same
time he has continued to co-write and play with Aboriginal artists
like Willoughby, Kev Carmody, the poet Lionel Fogarty and Andy
Alberts. He has also produced releases by Alberts, Jimmy Chi and
the Pigram Brothers, among others.
As he put it in the liner notes to 1996ıs "Clan": "Here we are,
as Australians, descended of migrants of many cultures, now living
on Aboriginal country under a British colonial political system.
How do any of us non-aboriginal people make sense of ourselves
and who we are and what we are doing here? How do we reconcile
the past with the present and future? How do we deal with living
in a nation whose legacy to us is one of conquest. How do we face
up to the immoral dispossession of the indigenous inhabitants?"
Howardıs songs continue to explore these questions. About myth
and reality. But he is as equally adept at singing about relationships,
love, loss and hope. About life in big cities, and the remote
Outback. Rivers, mountains, deserts and oceans sweep through his
songs. His music draws links and connection between people, places
and struggles for a better world, but also reminds us not to lose
sight of the simple things in life.
Howard is a consummate weaver and teller of stories. The Melbourne
Ageıs Warwick McFadyen calls him a "sculptor of song, chipping
away at the rock of ages." The characters and situations he sings
about seem alive and real. Like the Aboriginal war veteran in
"One Eyed Johnny" from his debut solo CD, "Back To The Track":
"I was a soldier in the Army, an educated man, a medal for bravery,
a letter from the king, then I come back here, back to my home
land, sorry about the job youıre just the wrong colour manı".
While they are deeply evocative of Australia, a "spirit of place",
Howardıs songs have a global reach. Music is an important part
of my life, and there are few contemporary musicians who have
made such an enduring impact.
In our struggles for a better world we need to take strong positions
against imperialism and all forms of injustice. We need theory,
we need to assert our values, we need to organise, to build strong
communities of resistance and find courage to carry on. But to
stay sane and balanced, we also need the music of people like
Shane Howard to feed our souls and keep our hopes alive for a
better future.
Used by kind permission of ZNET
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