Having listened to considerable music throughout my life, I have always been curious about how music really
had its genesis. Embarking on this journey has provided its fair share of fascination, more so because everyone has his own theories.

With each country having its own musical history, the voyage becomes more complicated. Take India, for instance. The inherent musical riches within her can take a person a lifetime in discovering or understanding it, and you still cannot manage doing so. Therefore, instead of taking on the onerous task of becoming a musicologist — I leave that to others — I decided to reconnoitre a musical genre that I find both captivating and immensely listenable: Blues.
Though my music initiation primarily commenced in the late ’80s with the sounds of the disco genre, I discovered that a lot of hits that I heard then, like Amii Stewart’s Knock On Wood/Light My Fire, Munich Machine’s A Whiter Shade Of Pale, Giorgio’s Nights In White Satin, and Boney M’s Still I’m Sad – were actually “classic” songs and/or composed by legendary bands, all firmly entrenched in rock music.
The unexpected move backwards made me discover the acts that had, in fact, been influenced by an earlier decade or era. As I went back in time, I discovered the Rolling Stones and, of course, the Beatles and, with them, the entire “black” era of R&B, rockabilly, and rock ‘n’ roll.
The ’50s became just a wee bit more complicated, as several musical genres evolved during that period. Little Richard, Fats Domino, and Chuck Berry, as examples, aided me on an expedition into black American music that, among other genres, resulted in providing the world with two of the all-time enchanting music genres that still often go hand-in-hand: Jazz and blues.
With my bias toward blues — after all, I find it easier listening, and a lot less complicated than its jazz brethren — I followed the influences of Chuck Berry into the likes of John Lee Hooker, Lightin’ Hopkins, Howlin’ Wolf, B.B. King, T-Bone Walker, Muddy Waters and, eventually, Robert Johnson. The latter musician, as legend has it, sold his soul to the devil in exchange for being able to play the blues proficiently. While I don’t know how factual that story is — though I have a lot of reference material which actually supports that argument — one thing was a certainty: If one looks at the beginnings of blues, it certainly passes through Johnson, whose career ended at 27, but whatever he composed then is certainly everlasting.
As examples, Eric Clapton — and many, many others — have performed Crossroads, or there have been a multitude of Sweet Home Chicago renditions, including the one by Buddy Guy at last month’s Mahindra Blues Festival, in conjunction with Serbian Ana Popovic and US-based guitarist Taj Mahal.
So, was Johnson the man behind the blues? Yes, if you consider popular blues, but I always felt — and believed — that there had to be something that persuaded him into developing that kind of sound. His songs helped me discover that the musical styles — and lyrics — had a lot to do with the black slaves who “sang” while working on the fields (referred to as “field hollers”). It was a combination of Christian religious music with the “call-and-respond” style evolved by the slaves that resulted in the blues, which is characterised by a twelve-bar structure. The lyrics spoke about the oppressive living and working conditions of the slaves, with the vocals imitating instrumentation or vice-versa. It called for a simple question: Is the blues really American music?
I am convinced that the music was merely moulded in North America during the 1800s. The true basis of blues is, in reality, within Africa. To support my case, here are a few supporting arguments.
One, an African instrument by the name of akonting is considered as a precursor to the all-American banjo. Two, instead of the modern-day plectrum to play the guitar, it used to be a knife, a technique that is apparently still common in Western and Central Africa. And three, the very nasal intonation in early blues is similar to “singing” in parts of Africa.
So where do I fit into this puzzle? If I have a single, unfulfilled wish today, it is to take a sabbatical of several months — if not years — from my ongoing corporate life, and visit parts of central and western Africa, and discover for myself (no more prompting!) that blues is not an American phenomenon, but an African one!