Acclaimed by many as the most vibrant act at Womad this year, British Asian group Fun-da- mental is as politically uncompromising as it is musically innovative, writes Nashen Moodley
Fun-da-mental’s performances at Womad will remain etched on the memories of all who watched them for several reasons. Womad, though a wonderful experience by all accounts, was largely a showcase for a wide array of international musicians who sat their bottoms down and played their instruments with great proficiency.
Fun-da-mental, on the other hand, snorted, shouted, gyrated and did unmentionable things with the Stars and Stripes and the Union Jack in a frenzy of the finest order. On one level, that is what their performance will be remembered for. On another, their music was amazing, vicious and beautiful in turn; fusing hard hip-hop, Indian classical music, punk and obscure samples.
Fun-da-mental will also be remembered as probably the only band at the festival to be heckled by the audience. That the few hecklers were spewing forth racist vitriol reminded us all that we were in Benoni, but more importantly, that we are in a country where the illusion of racial harmony is withering away by the day – that at-the- end-of-the-rainbow ethos is a can of worms so deep that there is no bottom.
And what were the racist demagogues upset about? Initially it was a plea to stop war that raised their ire, and then it was Aki Nawaz’s suggestion that whites and Asians should kiss the feet of Africans; should ask forgiveness for the repulsive atrocities committed against Africans throughout history … to show some love.
I met Nawaz while he was working on a track with South Africa’s premier hip-hop band, Prophets of da City. Contrary to the perception propagated by elements within the British media machinery, Nawaz is not some crazed Muslim fundamentalist (whatever that means!). In the two-and-a-half-hour interview, his most noticeable characteristics were his obvious, and rather disarming, warmth, his intelligence and his complete lack of the pretension and contrivance frequently associated with musicians.
Having encountered similar tension in the United States, Australia, New Zealand, the United Kingdom and even Finland, the aggressive reaction of certain elements of the South African crowd is hardly unique in Nawaz’s experience. He is still somewhat perplexed though: “The amount of antagonism that it causes people to be told `learn to love’, is just shocking. You ask somebody to love people and they question something positive.”
For Nawaz, the key to improving race relations is not a simple and fallacious gleaning over of the past; a whitewashing of the facts. “The African man has suffered the worst in world history and has never been repaid. Words are not enough – reparation must be financial. What is most amazing about South Africa is that the African people have not sought any kind of revenge; that’s what love is and that deserves the biggest amount of respect. That’s why I say we should kiss their feet,” he said.
Nawaz is no stranger to South Africa and has a very strong interest in this country’s future, to the point where he has even considered moving here. This interest was reflected in Fun-da-mental’s brilliant 1995 album Seize The Time. Fun-da-mental first visited South Africa just a few weeks after the first democratic election in 1994, and played at Yeoville’s legendary Tandoor. They also recorded the African National Congress choir and created the powerful White Gold Burger using these samples.
“You sit on the land that belongs to the other man/Claiming that you’re South African, don’t give a damn/Following the ways of the Babylonian days/You took the country, killed the resident” the song begins. The video portrays a revolution staged by domestic workers in a white suburban home juxtaposed with images of white people disguised in gold paint shedding tears (Of guilt? Or of sorrow at losing their land to blacks?).
It is not entirely surprising then that some white South Africans are quite taken aback by Fun-da-mental’s unashamedly political stance. “It’s not my fault!” I heard someone shout at Fun-da-mental’s Womad gig. I asked Nawaz what he thought about that particular attitude; a separation from the sins of forefathers. “As much as black people have been the victims of racism, white people have been the victims of their own racism – mentally and psychologically. It is your fault, if you’re not doing anything to actively overcome it. How many white organisations have tried to rehabilitate their people of the apartheid mentality? What we say is not meant to offend, but if it offends a lie, then I don’t mind,” he insisted.
We spoke about music for a small proportion of the time, and politics for the majority of the time. While Fun-da-mental continues to challenge musical parameters, it is difficult not to appreciate their music as a means to an end, and that end is a world free of “economic terrorism”, racial hatred and intolerance.
It would be difficult to happen upon a more passionate and uncompromising band. As Nawaz says: “We’re 100% political and we make no apologies for that. It’s fine if bands are aspiring to normal success, there’s a whole big cake for everyone to enjoy – but we don’t give a fuck, we don’t want it – it’s not sweet enough!”
Fun-da-mental’s London management report that the group is soon to embark on a tour of Russia