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California has been fertile ground for country music since the 1920s, nurturing a multitude of talents from Gene Autry to Glen Campbell, Rose Maddox to Barbara Mandrell, Buck Owens to Merle Haggard. In this affectionate homage to California's place in country music's history, Gerald Haslam surveys the Golden State's contributions to what is today the most popular music in America. At the same time he illuminates the lives of the white, working-class men and women who migrated to California from the Dust Bowl, the Hoovervilles, and all the other locales where they had been turned out, shut down, or otherwise told to move on. Haslam's roots go back to Oildale, in California's central valley, where he first discovered the passion for country music that infuses Workin' Man Blues. As he traces the Hollywood singing cowboys, Bakersfield honky-tonks, western-swing dance halls, 'hillbilly' radio shows, and crossover styles from blues and folk music that also have California roots, he shows how country music offered a kind of cultural comfort to its listeners, whether they were oil field roustabouts or hash slingers. Haslam analyzes the effects on country music of population shifts, wartime prosperity, the changes in gender roles, music industry economics, and television. He also challenges the assumption that Nashville has always been country music's hometown and Grand Ole Opry its principal venue. The soul of traditional country remains romantically rural, southern, and white, he says, but it is also the anthem of the underdog, which may explain why California plays so vital a part in its heritage: California is where people reinvent themselves, just as country music has reinvented itself since the first Dust Bowl migrants arrived, bringing their songs and heartaches with them.

Music provides unique opportunities for understanding both brain and culture. But globalization means that time is running out, warns David Huron, for the quest to encounter the range of possible musical minds.

Owing much to its dual heritage, Barbadian culture is a mix of primarily African and British traditions. Unique forms of indigenous folk music include tuk and spouge music. Tuk music, a local version of the common fife-and-drum marching band, dates back to the 18th century (Bilby, 2008). Tuk music is “lively, with an intricate, pulsating and quick rhythm” (Marshall & Watson, 2008, p. 347). Spouge is a 20th century development (Best, 2005). The Crop Over festival, which originated during colonial times as a harvest festival and which was revived in the 1970s as both a cultural and commercial event, provides an annual venue for traditional and popular music as well as other cultural activities.

He wanted to hear the sound of his own voice. – Toni Morrison, Song of Solomon What is realized in the novel is the process of coming to know one's own language as it is perceived in someone else's language. – Mikhail Bakhtin, “Discourse in the Novel” SINCE its publication in 1977, Song of Solomon has most often been read as an initiation novel of mythic quest in which the male protagonist, Milkman Dead, must come to terms with his personal and collective history to achieve a sense of identity. Traditionally, this perspective on the novel focuses on oppositional patterns of competition and resistance between Milkman and others, the self and community. Such thematic interpretations, even when they acknowledge the black community as a metaphorical chorus and situate this chorus in the African American oral tradition, tend to view it, nonetheless, as a monologic structure with which the hero must contend. Although other interpretations view the community as a complex structure, they focus on the visual images of self and other and attribute this complexity more to definitions of self based on the perceptions of others than on the endless network of voices within the community represented in the text. Cynthia Davis argues, for example, that all of Morrison's characters suffer the consequences of internalizing the “look” of the racial other by trying to live up to an external image.

Host-microbe interactions are often portrayed as a game of molecular hide-and-seek or tug-of-war where one partner seeks to establish an upper-hand over the other. Perhaps a more useful analogy is the traditional call-and-response preaching method used so effectively in churches of the southern USA to encourage participation by the assembled parishioners. The preacher calls out a line of a gospel or hymn and the congregation responds as one to the cue. A recent paper identifies Nramp as a potential molecular preacher, and Salmonella, and probably other pathogenic bacteria, are singing back full-throated.

[commentary, Music and Sound, Music and Sound Interest Group, Zulu, gospel music, HIV, AIDS, South Africa, Southern Africa, jazz, North America, performance and festivals]

Pt. Vishnu Narayan Bhatkhande's entry into the field of music brought a turning point in Indian Classical Music. He devoted himself full-heartedly to the cause of uplifting the status of music in the society and brought it to the respectable families and secured social justice for music. This paper describes his contribution to the revival and growth of classical Indian music. He worked on the technical revival of music and gave simple and convincing explanations and interpretations to clear the confusion among musicians and musicologists of that time. He introduced ‘thaat’ system and ‘notation’ system for Northern Indian Classical Music which helped students and enthusiasts to understand music easily. He collected musical compositions from various ‘ustads’ and put them into notation in 7 volumes, by which students of music are still being benefitted. Any discussion in music would be incomplete without referring to Bhatkhande's work.

Viewed from the West, the topography of late twentieth-century world music presents a teeming array of interlocking traditions and contexts. While the boundaries between musical traditions have never been fixed or impermeable, the political, scientific and social revolutions of this century have catalysed a remarkable process of diffusion and exchange that has fundamentally reshaped the sensibilities of those who make and listen to music everywhere.

In his fresh and insightful paper, Ronald Radano conveys the cultural work African-American music performs for the nation. The paper calls to mind reflections James Baldwin made about the subject a half-century ago. "It is only in his music," Baldwin wrote, "that the Negro has been able to tell his story" (Baldwin 1985, 65). According to Baldwin, music supplied this vehicle because it commanded the attention of white Americans. Yet he carefully pointed out that black music also hindered their ability to fully understand the sonic stories. Both Baldwin and Radano agree that black music has had a powerful hold on Americans. To account for the influence, Baldwin pointed out that black music inspired a "productive sentimentality among white audiences," preventing them from comprehending its deeper messages (65). Building on Baldwin, Radano concentrates on how African-American music functions in American life. Looking beyond style to consider its broad contours, Radano argues that black music assists in the construction of race. Placing race within a broader historical context lends added salience to Radano's intriguing assertion. Since the eighteenth century, race has provided the basis of a social hierarchy, with whites situated at the top and blacks occupying the bottom. Despite the destruction of slavery, and even Jim Crow, ideas about white supremacy and black inferiority have persisted. Radano traces how discourses about African-American music cultivated a sense of black superiority providing a crucial counter narrative to notions of black inferiority. As early as the 1850s Americans--black and white--began regarding African-American music as decidedly more authentic than nonblack forms. These twin discourses have proved decisive, in some cases tragic, for black singers and musicians who gained stature as national celebrities. As it garnered national and international attention, African-American music emerged as a vehicle for gaining upward mobility. Over the course of the twentieth century a host of black singers and musicians such as Nat King Cole, Bessie Smith, and Louis Armstrong became household names. Their lives on and off the stage, however, could not have been more different. The notoriety and acclaim they could command did not transform the prevailing prejudice and discrimination that imposed constraints offstage. These men and women warrant discussion because, unlike the listeners on whom Radano focuses, they call attention to the limitations of black music. Of course the music operated much differently for audiences. In a nation that championed democracy, slavery and discrimination threatened to undermine this cherished ideal. …

Rock music - powerful, sensual, loud and full of energy. It has changed the face of modern music. But what is its fascination for, and its significance in contemporary society and what cultural values does it reflect? Peter Wicke addresses these issues in a stimulating and penetrating study of rock music tracing the genesis and influence of this diverse strand of popular music. Beginning with the advent of rock 'n' roll, Wicke chronicles the development through Elvis Presley and the Beatles to the current music industry, its performers, and the impact of the music video. The book will appeal to readers with an interest in music history, popular culture, and media studies.

Today, country music enjoys a national fan base that transcends both economic and social boundaries. Sixty years ago, however, it was primarily the music of rural, working-class whites living in the South and was perceived by many Americans as "hillbilly music." In Smile When You Call Me a Hillbilly, Jeffrey J. Lange examines the 1940s and early 1950s as the most crucial period in country music's transformation from a rural, southern folk art form to a national phenomenon. In his meticulous analysis of changing performance styles and alterations in the lifestyles of listeners, Lange illuminates the aculturation of country music and its audience into the American mainstream. Dividing country music into six subgenres (progressive country, western swing, postwar traditional, honky tonk, country-pop, and country-blues), Lange discusses the music's expanding appeal. As he analyzes the recordings and comments of each of the subgenre's most significant artists, including Roy Acuff, Bob Wills, Bill Monroe, Hank Williams, and Red Foley, he traces the many paths the musical form took on its road to respectability.

Because of the spontaneity and high level of call and response, many charismatic churches have verbal and musical communication problems that stem from highly reverberant sound fields, poor speech intelligibility, and muddy music. This research looks at the subjective dimensions of room acoustics perception that affect a charismatic worship space, which is summarized using the acronym RISCS (reverberation, intimacy, strength, coloration, and spaciousness). The method of research is to obtain acoustical measurements for three worship spaces in order to analyze the objective parameters associated with the RISCS subjective dimensions. For the same spaces, binaural room impulse response (BRIR) measurements are done for different receiver positions in order to create an auralization for each position. The subjective descriptors of RISCS are analyzed through the use of listening tests of the three auralized spaces. The results from the measurements and listening tests are analyzed to determine if listeners’ perceptions correlate with the objective parameter results, the appropriateness of the subjective parameters for the use of the space, and which parameters seem to take precedent. A comparison of the multi‐source auralization to a conventional single‐source auralization was done with the mixed down version of the synchronized multi‐track anechoic signals.

I happened to travel to New York City on May 30, 2002, the day that ceremonies were held to mark the completion of the clearing of the rubble at the site of the World Trade Center. At a downtown law firm's expense, I was staying at the Ritz Carleton Battery Park, and could see "Ground Zero" from my hotel room. Walking through the hotel lobby the next day, I noticed to my surprise that Arab instrumental music was playing over the loudspeakers. I didn't recognize the piece, but it was clearly Arab, set within a distinctively contemporary musical framework, richly produced, and with a subtle dance rhythm. That Arab music would be played in 2002 at an upscale New York City hotel located just a few blocks from the WTC site, I would argue, is not anomalous, but rather a reflection of the remarkable fact that Arab music acquired a certain "hipness" in the U.S., post-9/11. In this article, I chart some of the twisted and contradictory paths Arab music has taken on its way to becoming cool.Pre-9/11 InroadsEver since the mid-1980s, when "world music"-the Western marketing category that encompasses a wide variety of international music-first emerged, popular music from the Arab world has remained a fairly minor player. Aimed in large part at what could be described as a National Public Radio (NPR)-listening "adult" audience, world music has a small share of roughly 2-3% (comparable to classical music and jazz) of total music sales, but its audibility increased during the 1990s.2It should be underscored at the outset that music from the Arab world faces a particular obstacle on the U.S. scene that is not encountered by musical genres emanating from most other parts of the globe. That impediment is the special antipathy found in the U.S. toward virtually all things Arab and Muslim. This exceptional aversion, as is well known, was discussed and diagnosed intensively by the late Edward Said (see in particular, Said, 1979a; 1979b; 1981). The U.S., as Said argues, not only participates in the generalized Western discourse of Orientalism, but U.S. Orientalism possesses a particular and often virulent character. This is due, in part, according to Said, to the sheer distance of the U.S. from the Arab world/Middle East, by comparison with Europe, which produces a generalized public ignorance and disinterest when it comes to things Arab and Islamic. Added to this is the strength of sympathy for Israel in the U.S., a force that one finds no where else in the Western world. This peculiar U.S. abhorrence toward Arabs and Muslims, plus the relative weakness of U.S. movements in solidarity with Arab causes, makes it quite difficult for any overtly politicized Arab music to gain acceptance via the U.S. world music market.This is in marked contrast to other genres of world music which have won audiences in the U.S. In his Dangerous Crossroads, for instance, music critic George Lipsitz (1994) investigates the work and Western reception of world music artists such as Fela Kuti (Nigeria), Ruben Blades (Panama/U.S.), Yothu Yindi (Australian aborigines), and Thomas Mapfumo (Zimbabwe), all known to be associated with various progressive causes. In the U.S., however, it is much more politically acceptable to be against white racism in southern Africa or in favour of Aboriginal rights than it has been to be identified with the cause of Palestinian national liberation or with the campaign against the UN sanction regime in Iraq. This has meant that one of the main avenues to world music fame in the U.S., which involves a combination of progressive politics and commercial circuits, has been virtually closed to Arab musicians.3On the other hand, it could be argued that there are fewer obstacles to the penetration of Arab popular music into the U.S. than exist for other genres of Arab culture, such as films or novels. Arab popular music is arguably a more mobile, cheaper, readily consumable and ultimately accessible form than are Arab novels or films. …

This essay deals partly with issues of canonicity, partly with a critical evaluation of the work of the late poet Ted Joans and demands for his inclusion in the canon of African American writing. (1) I focus on Joans, not because he has the most urgent case for such appraisal, but in response to assertions of blindness or bias on the part of individuals with influence on the canon-making process. Joans' supporters claim the canonizers treated him unjustly. Is this allegation legitimate? What indeed are the qualifications for inclusion in the canon? Who establishes them? Are the criteria unchanging? My concern here is the reach of the canon of African American writing--its scope or magnitude--and its breaches: what is omitted that should be included, what is included that could be left out. Was Ted Joans excluded from the canon because it cannot contain every black author? Was he excluded by partiality or oversight, as his defenders allege? Or was he judged insufficiently important for inclusion? Though he has enthusiastic supporters, there currently is no substantive body of criticism on Joans. (2) If he had received more critical attention, would this have facilitated his entry into the canon or militated against it? The issue of the reach of the canon is more crucial now than in the past. Back in the seventies, I heard the late June Jordan argue that the notion of a black literary canon was premature because there were not enough works of sufficient quality to constitute one. Two recent efforts to propose a canon, The Norton Anthology of African American Literature (1997) and Call and Response. The Riverside Anthology of the African American Literary Tradition (1998), have 2665 and 2039 pages respectively, and the significance of the majority of the work they contain is largely incontrovertible. The section of the Norton dealing with literature after 1970 begins on page 2011; the pre-1970 material constitutes about 80% of the book. The material in the Riverside covering 1960 to the present begins on page 1343; the pre-1960 material accounts for 65%. In both cases, the period that Ms. Jordan (a canonical figure herself, included in both anthologies) believed to be largely destitute of significance today makes up the bulk of the African American literary tradition. (3) A decade before the publication of the Norton, Cornel West had questioned the legitimacy of such a project, arguing that "it is difficult to imagine an Afro-American canon formation that does not domesticate and dilute the literary power and historical significance" of those authors West considered "major figures" (199). With due respect to West, this is unconvincing. Have Thoreau's essay on civil disobedience, Melville's "Bartleby the Scrivener," or Ginsberg's "Howl" been domesticated and diluted as a result of their inclusion in the American canon? If one reads African American literature as oppositional or revisionary, why would juxtaposing it with "mainstream" American literature not keep the particular qualities of black literature intact? What can lead to dilution is the use of excerpts rather than complete works, a frequently unavoidable characteristic of anthologies and one of the reasons many teachers shun their use. For one may argue that the Norton and Riverside anthologies do not constitute the canon of African American literature per se but are efforts to assemble a tradition in a marketable form that may become standardized. Obviously a canon is that body of works judged worthy of preservation and still relevant pedagogically, but it should exist apart from commercial considerations. Ishmael Reed, firmly situated in the canon, has referred to the Norton as a "feminist propaganda volume" and criticized what he feels is the perfunctory treatment given to "the black writers of the 1960s," who he sees as "the most influential writers since the Imagists of the turn of the century" (Dick 230). Reed further claims there has been an unwarranted "inflation" of value in the assessment of black writers. …

Two quotes drawn from pages of The Cricket, mimeographed music magazine edited by LeRoi Jones, Larry Neal, and A. B. Spellman in 1968 and 1969, most aptly reflect the intent of the magazine's vision of inter-arts solidarity, aspiration, and attitude. James Stewart's essay "Revolutionary Black Music in the Total Context of Black Distension" proclaims, "Black art is movement, being and becoming. Black art is fluid. Black creation is flux. Speech, poetry, dance and music" (Cricket 3: 14). And considering a new album by Albert Ayler in the final issue of the publication, Larry Neal writes: Music can be one of the strongest cohesives towards consolidating a Black Nation. The music will not survive locked into bullshit categories. James Brown needs to know Albert Ayler, Sun Ra, Cecil Taylor, and Pharoah Sanders.... Implied here is the principle of artistic and national unity; a unity among musicians, our heaviest philosophers, would symbolize and effect a unity in larger cultural and political terms. Further, there should be more attempts to link the music to other areas of the Black Arts movement. LIKE: REVOLUTIONARY CHOREOGRAPHERS LIKE ELMO POMARE, JOHN PARKS, JUDI DEARING, TALLY BEATY SHOULD BE CHECKING OUT CECIL TAYLOR'S MUSIC WHICH IS HEAVILY POSITED ON DANCE CONCEPTS. HOW DOES POETRY AND MUSIC OPERATE IN THE CONTEXT OF POLITICAL AND RELIGIOUS GATHERINGS. PHAROAH NEEDS A TEMPLE. SUN RA IS A BEAUTIFUL BLACK INSTITUTION. POETS SHOULD WRITE SONGS. (Cricket 4: 38-39) While these two transmissions most fittingly reflect the mission of The Cricket, nearly everything that appeared in the magazine functioned to promote music as a cultural nucleus. Though only four issues were produced, The Cricket--subtitled Black Music in Evolution--vitally represented and upheld accelerated standards for progressive art by insisting on a flow between various creative forms after bebop became mainstream. Alternative forms of Black protest music emerging subsequent to bebop significantly influenced writers contemporaneously engaged in the process of provoking cultural evolution and revolution. With the extended improvisations of jazz, the unfettered conceptual organization and whole experience of new veins of the music became a tribal chorus that initiated a breakthrough point for artists working in other forms of expression. In the 1960s, progressive interpretations of this music helped to tear away restraint away from a group of writers who assertively formed their own events, publications (printed, audio, and filmic), and institutions to provide an outlet for honest, insightful dialog and expression amongst their African American peers and communities. Bandleader/composer/pianist Sun Ra's poem "Music the Neglected Plane of Wisdom" resounds the intensity that music was felt to embody: Music is existence, the key to universal Language Because it is the universal language ... ..... Freedom of Speech is Freedom of Music. Music is not material. Music is spiritual. Music is a living soul force. (Cricket 3: 20) LeRoi Jones and Larry Neal were forward-looking writers who by 1968 had already co-edited Black Fire: An Anthology of African American Writing. The pair identified directly with musicians, shared beliefs and concerns with them. Jones and Neal sought to share resources, space, and the page with peers they viewed as "the priests of pure wisdom, in essence the voice of a people" (Cricket 1: a). Closely aligned with radical jazz music and musicians, they knew the political and cultural significance of Black music as a rejection of an oppressive European colonialist mind set. Jones's books Blues People (1961) and Black Music (1967), and various essays by Neal in The Cricket and elsewhere, demonstrate a thorough knowledge of the subject. Stylistically, their words in all forms embody mighty verbal jazz, an excursion in tune with the immediate world. …

It is common for historians to view the development of American popular music in terms of the blending of African and European musical elements and the melding of folk and popular traditions. A textbook designed for use in university-level classes in popular music history, for example, states: "A distinctive popular tradition emerged only through cross-pollination of established European styles with white and AfricanAmerican folk music. African-American music has been the primary catalyst in the evolutionary process. Change has come about mainly through the infusion of African elements into the prevailing popular style" (Campbell 1996, xiii). The well-known story of Sam Phillips, head of Sun Records in Memphis in the 1950s, whose search for a white singer who sounded black ultimately resulted in launching the career of Elvis Presley, is only the most calculated instance of this process at work. Working backward from the present, we can see this pattern underlying the development of virtually all genres of popular music, including rap, rock, rhythm and blues, gospel, jazz, ragtime, and country. Blackface minstrelsy is often seen as the first manifestation of this process, but the roots of black-white musical interchange lie even deeper than that. The earliest meeting ground between white and black musicians was dance music played primarily on the fiddle. This merging of traditions began at least as early as the late seventeenth century and has had an impact that continues to the present. The threads of this interchange are woven PAUL F. WELLS is Director of the Center for Popular Music and Associate Professor of Music at Middle Tennessee State University. His research interests include fiddling and fiddle tunes, bluegrass, country music, Irish music, and the history of music publishing. A past president of the Society for American Music, Wells plays American, Canadian, and Irish traditional music on fiddle, flute, guitar, mandolin, and banjo.

The notion that various kinds of popular entertainment do "cultural work" for their respective audiences is now a commonplace of cultural studies. While scholars might disagree sharply over what that work consists of, and debate in particular whether it meets an audience's authentic needs or purveys a kind of false consciousness (or does some measure of both), there is widespread agreement that popular entertainment does more than merely entertain.' Literary historians, for example, have shown how the genre of the novel emerged as a response to particular social conditions: people began reading novels because the form of that genre and the stories appropriate to that form dealt in a variety of ways with the changing relation between public and private spheres, with changes in class identity and formation, with changes in gender roles, and so on.2 In film studies, similarly, cultural historians have examined the work done by film noir, by "slasher," "buddy," "action," and other genres of film.3 In all instances, scholars attempt to identify the formal characteristics of a genre and then link those characteristics to specific cultural needs, whether these be the needs of an audience consuming the genre or the needs of a hegemonic order producing, disseminating, and profiting from that genre. The cultural work performed by the musical genre of the blues has

Tables Preface Introduction The Australian Rock Music Scene by Susanna Agardy and Lawrence Zion Culture, Media and the Music Industry in Brazil by Nelly de Camargo The English Experience by Alison J. Ewbank Popular Music and the Music Industry in Greece by Fouli T. Papageorgiou A Brief History of Music Production in Hawaii by Elizabeth B. Buck Music in India: A Look at Something Different by Usha Vyasulu Reddy The Israeli Musical Environment: Cultural Heritage and Sociocultural Change by Hanna Adoni Local Musicians in Jamaica: A Case Study by Marlene Cuthbert and Avonie Brown Interactions of Imported and Indigenous Musics in Japan: A Historical Overview of the Music Industry by Toru Mitsui The Problem of Our Time: Culture or Industrial Culture? Musical Creation or Industrialized Musical Products? The Spanish Case by Blanca Munoz Seeking the Best Integration: Popular Music in Taiwan by Georgette Wang Visceral Vibes and a Place in the Sun: U.S. Popular Music by Deanna Campbell Robinson, Jack Banks, and Nancy Breaux Uruguayan Popular Music: Notes on Recent History by Carlos Alberto Martins and Carlos Dumpierrez Index

The paper examines historical and cultural influences of African music traditions on African–American gospel and spiritual music. Gospel music is one of several African–American genres of sacred music developed during the 1920’s and 30’s when musicians combined elements of blues and jazz music with church hymns and spirituals. The paper examines scholarly investigations of the impact of African music traditions on the development of gospel and spiritual music in America. In addition, the paper will explore unique African and American cultural influences on specific vocal‐style characteristics. The session will feature The Ohio State University African American Music Chorale, which will perform representative short examples of African–American gospel and spirituals. The chorale also will present a short concert of complete works immediately following the session.

This new series, co-sponsored with The Center for Black Music Research of Columbia College, seeks to increase our understanding of black music genres and their importance to the cultures of the Atlantic world, including their influence on African musical styles. Books in the series will examine the wide-ranging music of the African diaspora--including the folk-derived musical styles of the Americas as well as European-influenced concert hall music of the entire black Atlantic world--by analyzing issues critical to our interpretation of the music itself and exploring the relationships between music and the other black expressive arts. Focusing on blues, jazz, gospel, rhythm and blues, and soul music, California Soul is one of the first books to explore the rich musical heritage of African Americans in California. The contributors describe in detail the individual artists, locales, groups, musical styles, and regional qualities, and the result is an important book that lays the groundwork for a whole new field of study. The essays draw from oral histories, music recordings, newspaper articles and advertisements, as well as population statistics to provide insightful discussions of topics like the California urban milieu's influence on gospel music, the development of the West Coast blues style, and the significance of Los Angeles's Central Avenue in the early days of jazz. Other essays offer perspectives on how individual musicians have been shaped by their African American heritage, and on the role of the record industry and radio in the making of music. In addition to the diverse range of essays, the book includes the most comprehensive bibliography now available on African American music and culture in California.

iffs-short repeated segments of sound, deployed singly, in call and response, in layers, as melody, accompaniment, and bass line-per- vade African-American musics and various world popular musics, especial- ly those of the African diaspora. They are but one aspect of a multilayered set of musical and cultural practices contributing to an African American musical sensibility, and they interact freely with the entire musical complex that Samuel Floyd (1995) has termed ring shout elements: Calls, cries, and hollers; call-and-response devices; additive rhythms and poly- rhythms, heterophony, pendular thirds, blue notes, bent notes, and elisions, hums, moans, grunts, vocables, and other rhythmic-oral declamations, interjec- tions and punctuations; off-beat melodic phrasings and parallel intervals and chords; constant repetition of rhythmic and melodic figures and phrases (from which riffs and vamps would be derived); timbral distortions of various kinds; musical individuality within collectivity; game rivalry, hand clapping, foot pat- ting, and approximations thereof; apart playing; and the metronomic pulse that underlies all African-American music (Floyd 1995:6). In jazz, the alleged monotony and repetitiveness of riff patterns, as well as their supposed non-developmental quality in a large-scale structural sense, have been grounds for the ambivalent admittance of musicians such as Count Basie into the modernist critical canon. Gunther Schuller finds inherent flaws (including harmonic stasis and lack of melodic interest) in the "riff cum blues" format of many Basie compositions, and Andre Hodeir, while praising Basie's rhythmic sensibility, finds his recordings character- ized by "extreme melodic monotony" (Schuller 1989:253; Hodeir 1962:97). A more pessimistic view of repetition in modernist critical theory can be found in the work of Theodor Adorno, who, through a chain of metaphor- ical associations, equates the repetition in popular music with industrial standardization, loss of individuality, military marching, and hence fascism (Adorno 1941; 1990:61).

Popular Music's status as an academic publication should not preclude it from publishing polemical articles. Far from it. However, it is incumbent on Popular Music's contributors to present their arguments in a scholarly and objective manner. This was clearly not the case with Charles Hamm's 'Graceland Revisited' 8(3), which handled a notably controversial issue in a way which generated more heat than light. Let us begin with the references. A series of books and journal articles are identified from which quotations are taken to support the Hamm attack on Paul Simon, Miriam Makeba and Harry Belafonte. But there are no sources provided for the alleged views held by these artists and their congruence with those of the South African authorities.