This article was downloaded by: [Lancaster University Library]On: 30 October 2014, At: 12:21Publisher: RoutledgeInforma Ltd Registered in England and Wales Registered Number: 1072954 Registeredoffice: Mortimer House, 37-41 Mortimer Street, London W1T 3JH, UK

Musicology AustraliaPublication details, including instructions for authors andsubscription information:http://www.tandfonline.com/loi/rmus20

Popular Music as Local Culture: AnEthnographic Study of the Album MathaWa! by the Band Paramana Strangersfrom Papua New GuineaOli Wilsona

a Otago University, Dunedin, New ZealandPublished online: 17 Dec 2013.

To cite this article: Oli Wilson (2013) Popular Music as Local Culture: An Ethnographic Study of theAlbum Matha Wa! by the Band Paramana Strangers from Papua New Guinea, Musicology Australia,35:2, 253-267, DOI: 10.1080/08145857.2013.844516

To link to this article: http://dx.doi.org/10.1080/08145857.2013.844516

PLEASE SCROLL DOWN FOR ARTICLE

Taylor & Francis makes every effort to ensure the accuracy of all the information (the“Content”) contained in the publications on our platform. However, Taylor & Francis,our agents, and our licensors make no representations or warranties whatsoever as tothe accuracy, completeness, or suitability for any purpose of the Content. Any opinionsand views expressed in this publication are the opinions and views of the authors,and are not the views of or endorsed by Taylor & Francis. The accuracy of the Contentshould not be relied upon and should be independently verified with primary sourcesof information. Taylor and Francis shall not be liable for any losses, actions, claims,proceedings, demands, costs, expenses, damages, and other liabilities whatsoeveror howsoever caused arising directly or indirectly in connection with, in relation to orarising out of the use of the Content.

This article may be used for research, teaching, and private study purposes. Anysubstantial or systematic reproduction, redistribution, reselling, loan, sub-licensing,systematic supply, or distribution in any form to anyone is expressly forbidden. Terms &Conditions of access and use can be found at http://www.tandfonline.com/page/terms-and-conditions

Musicology Australia, 2013 Vol. 35, No. 2, 253–267, http://dx.doi.org/10.1080/08145857.2013.844516

Popular Music as Local Culture: An Ethnographic Study of the Album Matha Wa! by the Band Paramana Strangers from Papua New Guinea

OLI WILSON

Otago University, Dunedin, New Zealand

This paper explores the capacity for commercially recorded popular music to sustain local culture by

presenting the ways in which recordings by the band Paramana Strangers from Papua New Guinea are

imbued with meanings that are understood locally as having roots in traditional culture. I present examples

in the form of song texts from the album Matha Wa! (1981) to demonstrate how traditional metaphors and

cultural practices surrounding music composition are sustained through popular song traditions. I focus

my analysis on what the song composers deem important, and explore ways that recordings are utilized to

sustain culture, not only as ‘documentations’ of culture, but also through the practices of music making and

sharing. By doing so, indigenous ways of knowing and imparting knowledge are given priority, providing

local perceptions about traditional culture and its sustainability.

Introduction

It is becoming increasingly recognized in ethnomusicology and related fields that popular song traditions can play an important role in the sustainability of local cultures. Several existing studies onmusic in Papua New Guinea (PNG) have identified this as an important issue worthy of investigation. These studies encompass a range of cultural contexts and theoretical and methodological approaches, and include both rural-based ethnographies and textual analysis. In his study of popular music production in Rabaul, Webb (1993, 96) asserts that popular songs can ‘fulfil traditional functions’, and suggests links between popular music production and traditional music-making practices (see also Webb 1995a, 1995b). Other research focuses on indigenized stringband music, arguing that it is neither exclusively ‘traditional’ nor ‘popular’ in its cultural meanings and functions. Both Denis Crowdy and Jun’ichiro Suwa for example, maintain that stringband songs simultaneously symbolize modernity and sustain traditional belief systems and aesthetics (Suwa 2001, 51; Crowdy 2005, 110). Additionally, Steven Feld in his seminal work among the Kaluli notes that the Kaluli ‘sonic model’ reverberates through stringband music, and suggests links between popular music styles and traditional music making practices (Feld 1988, 6).

This article explores and exemplifies these broader assertions, and demonstrates the capacity for popular music traditions to sustain local culture by providing an ethnographically informed lyric-focused case study. Specifically, this article examines stringband songs from the album Matha Wa! (1981) by the band Paramana Strangers, who originate from Paramana Village, located about five hours’ drive from PNG’s capital, Port Moresby.1 This article focuses on songs from this album that were identified by band

1 The group was the first PNG band to commercially record and release locally with the 1978 album Paradise

Calling. They have subsequently enjoyed considerable nationwide popularity. Tereakone Iro, Kiki Geno and

q 2013 Musicological Society of Australia

Dow

nloa

ded

by [

Lan

cast

er U

nive

rsity

Lib

rary

] at

12:

21 3

0 O

ctob

er 2

014

254 Musicology Australia vol. 35, no. 2, 2013

members as being particularly important, because they featured various lyrical and thematic elements that have roots in traditional culture. These elements will be explored below, and centre on texts and a type of traditional poetic language known as Keapara, or Old Aroma. These songs also embody traditional beliefs surrounding music performance and composition, and are characterized by frequent use of traditional metaphors that have origins in ancient legends and traditional ecology and cosmology. This article is therefor framed by the Paramana Strangers’ perspectives the album as an important historical record, as well as a cultural text with ongoing relevance.

To establish the theoretical and methodological context of this study I begin with a discussion of the ethnographic process, and establish the analytical framework through which the groups’ own interpretations takes precedence. My analysis is therefore framed by indigenous ways of knowing and sharing knowledge, as well as the ‘social distance’ between the participants and myself (see Strathern 1987). Recognition of this approach is important in the broader context of cultural research in the Pacific, as a growing number of scholars (both indigenous and non-indigenous) argue that Pacific cultures have been misrepresented through the dominance of western theoretical and epistemological paradigms, and have advocated for scholarly recognition of indigenous epistemologies and ontology (Keesing 1989; Trask 1991; Linnekin 1992). This sentiment is summarized by Teaiwa (2006, 73), who states that despite being the centre of enquiry: ‘the Pacific is not brought to the table as an equal partner in any conversation about the nature of humanity or society’ (also see Hau’ofa 1975, 1993, 2000; Hereniko 2000; Henry and Pene 2001; Pihama et al. 2002; Hviding 2003; Walker et al. 2006).2

This article draws on sound recordings for its analytical content. Sound recordings have had a profound influence on the methods and theoretical approaches that have come to characterize ethnomusicology (see Seeger 1986, 1996, 2004; Shelemay 1991; Lancefield 1998; Brady 1999; Ruskin 2006; Rice 2008; Fargion 2009; Samuels et al. 2010; Lobley 2011). It has, however, also been argued in ethnomusicology that sound recordings tend to be made for the researcher’s own purpose, due to recordings’ rich descriptive capacity (Fargion 2009, 77–9), or for salvage purposes, which risk de-contextualizing sound from source. 3 A growing number of ethnomusicologists have argued for less emphasis on preservation, and more for the facilitation of cultural continuity, offering practical solutions involving archiving and dissemination (see Lancefield 1998; Seeger 2001; Bendrups 2005, 2006; Ruskin 2006; Lobley 2011). It is noteworthy that this study is based on recordings that the band had recorded without any direct input from ethnomusicologists or other academics.4 These songs were recorded in 1981, and were utilized by the band as a key historical resource for this research.

Footnote 1 continued

Vevao Geno were the three original Paramana Strangers. When Vevao, the eldest brother died in 1973, (the

now) Dr. Warilea Iamo, Samuela Pepena, and Vagi Geno joined the band. Tereakone, however, was killed in

1994 when he was shot along Maggi Highway near the Hood Lagoon turn-off. The bands Paramana

Strangers II and Parmana Strangers III also feature relatives of the original band-members. In 2007 the PNG

governor general made Kiki Geno a Member of the Order of the British Empire for his services to music.

2 Acknowledging and including indigenous epistemologies into academic research is considered an important

part of de-hegemonization, and decolonization. See Hau’ofa (1993) and Gegeo and Watson-Gegeo (2001).

3 Anthony Seeger (1986, 1991, 1996, 2001) has addressed a range of concerns on this topic, particularly in

relation to archiving.

4 These recordings were made by CHM, an Asian-owned PNG-based record label. For more information see

Webb and Niles (1987), Webb (1993, 1998) and Philpott (1995, 1998).

Dow

nloa

ded

by [

Lan

cast

er U

nive

rsity

Lib

rary

] at

12:

21 3

0 O

ctob

er 2

014

Musicology Australia, Oli Wilson, Popular Music as Local Culture 255

The analysis of these recordings is inevitably characterized by a range of ethnographic limitations. Consequently, a number of other facets of Paramana song traditions, including the historical reception of these recordings, as well as other local cultural and social functions of these songs are outside the scope of this article, and warrant further scholarly attention. This article focuses on the perspectives of two key participants; the group’s main songwriter Kiki Genorupa, and his elder brother (and band member) Vagi Genorupa. These individuals provided the translations of the lyrics (which are intentionally floral), and are self-acknowledged culture-bearers whose authority is linked to their nationwide recognition as songwriters and performers. Their local social status provided these individuals with authority to determine and represent their community’s musical traditions in this forum, and is an issue I will come back to later in this article.5 References to ‘tradition’ and ‘traditional culture’ are applied in the ways the group uses these terms, which serve to differentiate their ancient music and beliefs from those that are perceived as ‘modern’ or ‘foreign’.

It is also important to note that the recordings selection was made with a good understanding of academia and ethnomusicology. Several of the band-members hold university degrees, and a former member Wari Iamoulea has a PhD from the University of PNG, and conducted ethnographic research (concerning dispute management) for his honour’s thesis in Paramana Village (Iamoulea 1979). The founding band members’ parents Geno Rupa (F) and Vane Ravu (M) had also recorded a number of traditional Marikamu melodies in 1981 with Don Niles from the Institute of Papua New Guinea Studies, and some members had copies of this recording in their personal music collection (Niles 1981). They also have connections to ethnomusicologist Denis Crowdy, who is married to a relative of the band members.6 I am fortunate that the ‘shadows’ cast by previous ethnomusicologists permitted a productive and supportive research context.7

The Paramana Strangers and the Ethnographic Process

I initially became interested in the Paramana Strangers after learning of their local historical significance, and I wanted to write a history of the band to include in my PhD thesis. Up to this point, my fieldwork (which took place between 2007 and 2009) consisted mostly of ethnography conducted in recording studios around Port Moresby, where I explored notions of identity and belonging in popular music production. Over several months of interviews and discussions with the Paramana Strangers, I became increasingly involved in documenting their present recording and performance projects. I then started to enquire about the local meanings of their songs, both new and old, and began to explore their performance and compositional practices. I was particularly interested in the band’s assertion that some songs, despite having few obvious signifiers of traditional culture (in the form of traditional melodies or instrumentation) were imbued with musical and cultural traditions. I was subsequently urged by the group’s leaders to go to their home village to experience daily Paramana life, and to study traditional music. I was advised that

5 The local status of informants has been acknowledged as critical in Pacific research, especially concerning

perspectives on ‘traditions’, and what constitutes ‘traditional culture’. See Cattermole (2011), for example.

6 Denis Crowdy’s ability on guitar and good nature is famous among Central Province musicians. He also

previously taught at the University of Papua New Guinea, and conducted ethnographic research on stringband

music in the Central Province in the early 2000s that is referenced throughout this article (Crowdy 2001,

2005, 2006).

7 For critiques on researcher engagement with indigenous and PNG cultures, see Gewertz and Errington

(1987), Barz and Cooley (2008), Strathern (1983), and Gillespie (2009).

Dow

nloa

ded

by [

Lan

cast

er U

nive

rsity

Lib

rary

] at

12:

21 3

0 O

ctob

er 2

014

256 Musicology Australia vol. 35, no. 2, 2013

only after experiencing life in the village could I understand why their ‘popular’ style songs function as vehicles for the preservation of important traditions. I therefore moved from an urban recording-studio-based project to living in a rural village studying traditional Aroma music and culture.

The Matha Wa! Album

When seeking musical examples for this study, I was directed to the band’s early commercially released recordings.8 These early recordings—of which Matha Wa! was considered one of the most important—are in a Central Province stringband style,9

which was an acoustic precursor to the electronically produced Lokal-style recordings that become commonplace from the 1990s onwards.10 In this context, the term ‘Lokal’ is important as it differentiates songs on Matha Wa! from traditional songs that contain ancient melodies called Marikamu. Matha Wa! (meaning ‘shameful deed!’) refers to an in-joke that was popular in Paramana in the late 1970s. The phrase is a reference to an affair between an old man and young woman, and was often used by old people to yell in jest to misbehaving youths. All of the twelve songs that feature on Matha Wa! are in the Aroma indigenous language. Four of these songs are considered ‘traditional’ or were identified as featuring some elements of traditional culture. The remaining eight are considered ‘love songs’ and are deemed less important. Table 1 lists the songs on Matha Wa!, attributes the songs’ composers, and identifies the song theme and language style.

The songs from Matha Wa! feature a rhythm section consisting of at least one strummed acoustic guitar and a wooden percussion instrument.11 The ukulele is also prominent, and is performed in a fast-strumming style. A bass part is performed on a ‘Bushell’s box’ made from a single piece of string connected to the top of a stick protruding upright from a wooden box, and to the box itself. The instrument produces simple walking bass lines that centre on the root and fifth degree of the chord. The vocal style has a distinctive nasal quality, and is harmonized in three parts (including the melody). Some songs feature verse – chorus structures, whereas others are strophic in structure, and sometimes feature a refrain. Gaps in the vocal melody are often filled by lead lines played on acoustic guitar. These are usually fast-picking semiquaver melodies counterpoint to the vocal lines. None of the songs from Matha Wa! feature traditional Marikamu melodies, or traditional instrumentation. Instead, the important elements of tradition that are sustained through these songs are the texts.

8 After lengthy discussion, it was decided that songs from the albumMatha Wa! should be the focal point of this

article, as well as other publications and conference presentations.

9 There are stylistic variations within Lokal musical styles (including Central Province styles) that have origins

in stringband music (see Crowdy 2005). For the purpose of this article, the term Central Province Lokal style

encompasses broad stylistic characteristics specific to Lokal music from Central Province as identified by

musicians in Port Moresby at the time of this research. In the analysis of songs from this album, I endeavour to

adhere to the band’s own classifications of the different types of songs discussed.

10 The Tok Pisin (the PNG lingua franca) term Lokal refers to a stringband-influenced style of (usually)

electronically produced recorded popular music. See Webb (1993, xix).

11 This would be either a toti (a small hollowed out piece of wood similar to a six-inch slit-drum struck by a small

stick) often used to accompany Ute, a Polynesian melody introduced by Pacific Island missionaries in the late

nineteenth century (Cook Island and Loyalty Island missionaries have been documented in Hanuabada

Village in Port Moresby; see Niles 2000) and found along the Central Province coast, or a small gourd (usually

used for transporting lime powder) or miscellaneous piece of wood hit by a small stick.

Dow

nloa

ded

by [

Lan

cast

er U

nive

rsity

Lib

rary

] at

12:

21 3

0 O

ctob

er 2

014

Table

1.

Songs,Composers,Themesan

dLanguag

esfrom

theAlbum M

atha

Wa! b

ytheParam

ana Strangers

Song Title

Composer

Song theme

Languag

e style

Gavurivo

Kiki Geno and others

Feelin

gs of unease exp

ressed through traditional

Old Aroma

metaphors

Pilis darlin

g

Navu Geno, Vag

i R Genorupa an

dLo

ve Song

Aroma

others

Thau

mo pararaman

igemu ai

KikiGenoTereko

neIroan

dothers

Love

Song(commissionedbyUaMaino)

Aromawithsome Old

Aroma

Orage iao

—goi vavine

Vevao Geno and others

Love Song

Aroma with some Old Aroma

Mam

ilagim

u geku

ai

Vag

i R Genorupa

Love Song

Aroma

Koki—ko

ki—

koki—

ve

Sam Pepena an

d others

Marikamu

lyrics

setto

new Lokal m

elody

Old Aroma

Excuse

me vavineo

Vevao Geno,TereakoneIroan

dKiki

Love

Song

Aromawithsome Old

Aroma

Gen

o

Veulamag

ivavinemu

WarileaIamoan

dothers

Love

Song

Aromawithsome Old

Aroma

Nakuira

Kiki Geno, Vag

i R Genorupa an

dMarikamu

lyrics

setto

new Lokal m

elody

Old Aroma

others

Pororiveva

wai

Late

Vevao Gen

oan

dothers

Love

Song

Aromawithsome Old

Aroma

Kwarali

Late Tereakone Iro and others

Requesting help through traditional m

etaphors

Aroma with some Old Aroma

Eolemapam

i rawalia

Late

Vevao Gen

oan

dothers

Love

song

Aromawithsome Old

Aroma

Musicology Australia, Oli Wilson, Popular Music as Local Culture 257

Dow

nloa

ded

by [

Lan

cast

er U

nive

rsity

Lib

rary

] at

12:

21 3

0 O

ctob

er 2

014

258 Musicology Australia vol. 35, no. 2, 2013

Sustaining Traditional Poetic Language and Metaphors

The most common way the Paramana Strangers’ songs are understood to sustain traditional culture is through a kind of ‘archiving’ of traditions through the texts. Some texts are adapted from traditional Marikamu songs, while others contain traditional poetic language referred to as Old Aroma (Keapara) and are characterized by the use of ‘traditional’ metaphors. Old Aroma language differs from colloquial Aroma in that it is highly metaphorical, and uses many archaic words that are no longer used in everyday conversation. Old Aroma also serves a symbolic function connecting these songs with past traditions, as the meanings of some Old Aroma words are unknown, and many Paramana Strangers’ songs contain only fragments of Old Aroma.

The most important characteristic of Old Aroma style poetry are metaphors that are intrinsically linked to the environment. These are known as ‘environmental metaphors’, and their use is determined by the social functions of that particular song.12 In Aroma culture, songs (both Marikamu and Lokal) often have specific purposes, such as to communicate messages to loved ones (or not so loved-ones) to remind them of their customary social obligations (i.e. through the wantok system that connects individuals through a system of exchange and reciprocity) (see Sillitoe 2000, 169). The social functions of songs are underpinned by the belief that human emotions are intrinsically linked to the physical environment. One’s emotional state is informed by environmental factors, specifically wind directions, temperature, and humidity. The most important metaphors in Old Aroma-style songs are the names for these different wind directions and weather patterns. The weather pattern most commonly used as a metaphor is the Gavurivo wind, which is a cool south­easterly afternoon sea breeze. The metaphorical use of this word is complex as it alludes to many different feelings and emotional states depending on the context in which it is used, as well as the context in which it is felt. Typically, however, if you were experiencing Gavurivo it would make you want to see your partner, think of loved ones or ancestors, and possibly make you feel simultaneously content and mournful. The Gavurivo wind also provides ideal fishing and ideal gardening conditions, and forces you to decide on one or the other; having to make this decision would give you worrisome feelings resulting in laziness. It was best described to me by the band’s principal songwriter Kiki Geno as producing ‘good feelings of sadness’. Gavurivo winds are especially important to composers of music, because inspiration for composing songs, whether Lokal or Marikamu, is brought by the Gavurivo wind. Lokal song composition is therefore also done in accordance with traditional beliefs and values concerning the origin of music and creativity. Instead of gardening or fishing, Gavurivo can make you indolent; you may feel like sitting on the veranda doing nothing but thinking, listening to your favourite songs, or, if you are a musician, compose.

The first example entitled ‘Gavurivo’ (see Table 2) employs this metaphor to express a state of confusion. In this song, the singer explains that a feeling or emotion has not been presented to him due to an absence of a Gavurivo breeze.

Gavurivo and its meanings are relative to other wind direction types, which are also employed as metaphors in song lyrics. For example, Gavuwathau, a trade wind that blows from the east, is a rough and dusty wind that blows sand around and sometimes brings rain. This wind prevents fishing, and produces restless and bad moods. Another wind metaphor, Gavuano is a cold wind that usually comes in the night, or late afternoon, and blows from

12 The significance of metaphors in PNG cultures has been discussed in Steven Feld’s seminal book on the Kaluli

(Feld 1982).

Dow

nloa

ded

by [

Lan

cast

er U

nive

rsity

Lib

rary

] at

12:

21 3

0 O

ctob

er 2

014

Musicology Australia, Oli Wilson, Popular Music as Local Culture 259

Table 2. Text for selected songs by the Paramana Strangers, with English translation provided by Vagi

Genorupa

Gavurivo

Arina emi rivoni From which direction is it coming?

Thau vilu ravaku Oh lonesome me

Wanai pemi rawali ku I’m expecting it right there

Olemaku My feelings

Nopere gavurivo pa? If they could appear to me like the Gavurivo Gaurai ravakuna If that’s a certainty, lonesome me

Ana rua venia rogo I’ll be standing waiting for it

Ririwaku thao My wishes for new-direction

Avari egaro As manifested in today’s weather

Kele—oma—oma rana The easing rippling waves

Pege mivarua aliku Have stroked my attention to a stand still

Malu rageku My descent into the valley

No pemi lea era Has come to a stand still

Pugori golorana The mountain valleys of aromatic flowers

Anami mari—mari rage I should recourse and sing all the way home

Gavurivo Gavurivo Vevuani pege pani Why has it been blocked away?

Eorai ravamai The eventual period has

Roga rai—rai ole Made us anticipate floating on the sea

Kwarali

E vewala e ariku My friends and my brothers

Amaku ivagaviku My fathers and uncles

Pe gavurivo pa? Is this a fine weather Gavurivo or Pe gavuwathau Rough weather Gavuwathau Geku kwarali I’d like to race my mini racing canoe

Ana ve manua And I’d to see how it can ripple through waves

Keakalo malagana The tribesmen from Keakalo

Gau maigo ala Wake up and do something

Ia olemari ari apuna What are we up to now

Gera kwarali mo Our mini racing canoes

Ravaria e The poor canoes

Geria ravu geri aimo They’re self propelled sailing through the sea

Puri peve olri e The clouds up in the sky

Veugari geku ai Making me feel, disheartened

Geku kwarali pemi ragili e Disguised by the disappearance of my canoe

Ipo ama nua ni—e But I can still see it over the horizon

Pere mavaneku If only I was a bird

Para vema nuamo I should try and fly over it in it journey and

Gena goli ai Enjoy it sailing

Elomea Pami Rawalia

Eolema pami rawali a Confronted by strange feelings

Epogi gemu ai Tonight with you

Oro gapi rageku ro If only I was accepted

Para valavu thao ri Your memories would be treasured in my heart

Epogi na verawali ai During the nights of our get together

Imamu ai ave rogo o I extended my hand and held onto your hand

Verele ai ova ikuo My heart was filled with excitement

Gavurivo pige rivo The fine Gavurivo blow Garo rai ravaku On the days I’m lonesome

Dow

nloa

ded

by [

Lan

cast

er U

nive

rsity

Lib

rary

] at

12:

21 3

0 O

ctob

er 2

014

260 Musicology Australia vol. 35, no. 2, 2013

Uamagiku gemi kamuni My feeling tend to grow incrementally

No goi gemu ai Toward you

Gemi puka kou garo rai Your days of togetherness

Valavu mui pigo alari You should make up your mind

E thoru ravaku Oh I’m a lonesome orphan

Paku wa pemi rau Physiologically separated by a huge distance

Koki-koki-koki-ve

Koki—koki—koki—ve The signs of cracks and tremors

Koki—te thao—te thaoni Significant tempo of cracks and tremors

Koki raka—koki—koki—ve Increasing tempo of the cracks and shaking

Koki—te thao—te thao ni Significant rumbling in continuation

Waira kere—vuathana The living legend crocodile of Wairakere

Mauli rau Long live

Mapa—rai—rai kwara I have floated closer and nearer

Waira tipai—aru ao The spirit god Wairatipai is standing Manu epiru—piru ni With a feature protruding in his hair

Marawa gavu rivo rana The seasonal times of the rosewood Gavurivo Eva thoa—vathoa ni The spirit god is refreshing and relaxing

Gamini—rui—rui The banana flowers

Matani—pune—matani thao I’m having a much closer look

Gamini—rui—rui—gauna The very flowers from this banana

Matani—pune—matani thao I’m having a much closer look

Nakuira

Naku ira—naku—naku—ira I’m uttering the myths and combing the hair of

Tepaku vuina—nakuira My head to lure, entice and attract beauty

Viu veuro—kwau veuro I’m chanting for the water container to outpour

Tepaku vuinai—pekara Its contents to grow the hair of my head

Golini gau—gau pevua All fruits formed and have ripened

Pune manuna—ene ganimo The Pune (female bird) will have to have a bite

Makini gau—gau pevua The bananas are fruiting and

Nepu manuna ene gani mo The nectar gets feed to Nepu (the male bird)

Pune manuna nepu manuna Both birds (Pune and Nepu) cooperate to feed

Maige gani kaka ragemo Likewise from bottom to top flapping their wings in mutual excitement

the northeast. Gavuano produces a ‘good feeling’ and can be a metaphor for a desirable female. Another commonly used wind metaphor, Gavuthavala is a temperamental wind that blows from the southwest and comes at the end of the year in November to December. This wind prevents fishing, and brings feelings of frustration. It is often used as a metaphor to describe an obstruction to something desirable. In the song entitled ‘Kwarali’ (Table 2), the composer uses the Gavurivo and Gavuwathau metaphors to call for unity between his relatives in response to some kind of threat.

The song’s lyric raise the question ‘is there a Gavurivo? (is this a good situation?) or, is this a Gavuwathau? (is this a bad situation?)’. In this song, canoe racing is also used to symbolize a serious challenge or competition, and the songwriter expresses a desire for relatives to unite and tackle this challenge head on. It is likely that when this song was written and recorded, most people from Aroma would have known what this ‘challenge’ was, which probably revolved around a major land dispute.

The next example entitled ‘Elomea Pami Rawalia’ (Table 2) features the Gavurivo metaphor in a different way, and exemplifies an important social function of Aroma songs.

Dow

nloa

ded

by [

Lan

cast

er U

nive

rsity

Lib

rary

] at

12:

21 3

0 O

ctob

er 2

014

Musicology Australia, Oli Wilson, Popular Music as Local Culture 261

The songwas composed to induce feelings of sorrow or pity in the listener, with the objective to motivate them to take some form of social action.13 The song deploys specific metaphors in a cryptic manner that might only be understood by particular people for whom the song was written. In the love song ‘Elomea Pami Rawalia’ (Table 2), the composer attempts to induce feelings of sorrow in the listener by describing himself as an orphan. The song compares feelings of loneliness with the feelings of sadness bought by the Gavurivo wind, which is usually associated with the memories of the deceased family members and spiritual ancestors.14 By using Gavurivo in this context the singer is expressing an extreme sense of loneliness that results from the loss of their closest loved ones.

Old Aroma is usually used in Lokal songs for this purpose, as using colloquial Aroma may not have the desired effect on its intended listener, because it would be too literal, and too many people could then understand the literal content of the song that was intended for just one person.

Setting Marikamu Texts to Lokal Melodies

A less common but equally important way traditional culture is understood to be sustained through Lokal songs is through the practice of setting ancient texts to Lokal melodies. Previously, these texts would have been set to Marikamu melodies, of which about twenty-two were recalled in Paramana Village at the time of this research. Marikamu songs usually contain a number of stanzas that are repeated with the same melody. Importantly, Marikamu melodies are often publically owned, and are considered vehicles for the text. Traditional texts are in the Old Aroma style, and are also characterized by the use of environmental metaphors. For example, in the song ‘Koki-koki-koki-ve’ (Table 2), which is an ancient Marikamu text arranged into a Lokal song, the metaphor Gavurivo is used in combination with other environmental metaphors.

The first half of this song describes the spirit-being Wairatipai, who oversees all the crocodiles living in the Wirakere mangrove estuary located near Paramana Village. In ancient Aroma cosmology, the change of season is initiated by the spirit gods, and happens when the gods are satisfied. In this song, the singer establishes that the spirit god is content by referring to the Gavurivo breeze, and thus it is ready to change season. Seasonal change is an indication that certain things have fallen in line with the spirit’s expectations; everything is ‘right’ and is as it should be. Pronouncing the Gavurivo as ‘rosewood’ reinforces the certainty of this situation. In the last stanza, the text describes the composer examining banana flowers closely. Here, the banana is a metaphor for a woman, and its use establishes that the singer has been thinking about this woman for some time, and is seriously considering pursuing her romantically. Environmental metaphors are also used in the song ‘Nakuira’ (Table 2), in which courting is described through the interaction of birds with flowers.15

In this example, the Pune and Nepu birds symbolize courting young men and women, and the banana represents something desirable. In this case, it is some form of sexual encounter. None of the band members could recite the original Marikamu from

13 The significance of inducing sorrow through song has been identified in other studies of PNG music; for

example, see Suwa (2001) and Feld (1982).

14 The importance of ancestors in Melanesian communities is explored by Lindstrom (1990).

15 Steven Feld explores the relationship between birds, metaphor and sentiment in his seminal book Sound and

Sentiment (1982).

Dow

nloa

ded

by [

Lan

cast

er U

nive

rsity

Lib

rary

] at

12:

21 3

0 O

ctob

er 2

014

262 Musicology Australia vol. 35, no. 2, 2013

which these lyrics originated, but it was understood that a young man could make himself more appealing to the opposite sex by reciting this Marikamu while combing his hair.

Sustaining Traditional Music Making Practices

The practice of setting Marikamu lyrics to Lokal melodies was also explained as an extension of traditional compositional practices, and reflects differing values placed on melody and lyrics, which are perceived as two distinct kinds of raw materials. Composers of Marikamu usually set an original text to a melody taken from a group of pre-existing melodies, while original melodic compositions are uncommon. Unlike texts, once performed, most melodies enter the public domain, and borrowing or appropriating them is mostly unproblematic.16 The Aroma art of songwriting involves setting lyrics to a suitable ‘borrowed’ melody in order to achieve the maximum emotional response from a listener. To achieve this, melodies are also sometimes ‘twisted’ to heighten its emotional effect. Twisting involves making subtle changes to the melodies, and is only done by the most skilled and experienced composers. When the Paramana Strangers compose new Lokal songs, they often follow the same process of borrowing, and ‘twist’ existing popular melodies to suit the texts. In the 1970s, when songs that feature on the Matha Wa! album were written, the ‘twisted’ melodies were usually taken from the radio, since these melodies—like most Marikamu melodies—were considered public. The choice of melody is also important, and composers must take into consideration the intended function of the song. Gary Geno, Kiki Geno’s brother in-law and composer of Marikamu, explains:

You just can’t put lyrics with any tunes . . . You have to put it in a tune that will evoke more sorrow to your family, so they will know why you chose that melody, and it will

strengthen the meaning of the song. The melody [you choose] depicts your emotions.

(Personal communication, December, 2008)

Authority, Lokal Music, and the Continuity of Local Traditions

The division between melody and text is not unique to Aroma music, and is common throughout the Pacific (see Moulin 1996).17 This division is especially significant to this case study because it provides a cultural framework to contextualize Paramana Strangers’

16 Even though in most cases melodies (both Lokal and Marikamu) are considered communally owned, it is

possible for groups or individuals to stake rights over a newly composed melody. It is also possible for groups

(or individuals) to ‘purchase’ the rights to perform melodies that other groups lay claim to. For example, one

Marikamu melody found in Aroma, called Kitoro originates from the neighbouring language group Rigo.

This melody was traded for pigs—probably over 100 years ago—as part of a customary system of exchange and

reciprocity between groups in the area. Additionally, a popular traditional ceremony known as Tovi was

attained from neighbouring Mailu (Niles 1981, 1). The (potentially violent) process of enforcing customary

copyrights is no longer practiced; however, breaking customs concerning the rights and ownership over songs

is still a major taboo.

17 In PNG, a number of scholars have documented how traditions are sustained through appropriated or

borrowed forms (Feld 1988; Metraux 1990). Notably Crowdy’s (2001, 2005, 2006) study of stringband music

demonstrates how borrowed musical forms sustain traditional/local belief systems and aesthetics within a local

cultural framework.

Dow

nloa

ded

by [

Lan

cast

er U

nive

rsity

Lib

rary

] at

12:

21 3

0 O

ctob

er 2

014

Musicology Australia, Oli Wilson, Popular Music as Local Culture 263

frequent borrowing of non-indigenous melodies as an extension of traditional compositional processes. In theorizing this process, useful comparisons can also be made with Lindstrom’s (1990) observations concerning locally determined ‘authority’ and its source. Lindstorm argues that in Melanesian societies: ‘local epistemology seeks authorities and not individual authors . . . one’s own ideas are never as good as information externally revealed’ (1990, 316). Here the Gavurivo wind—as inspirational source—provides the externally produced revelation, which instils the texts (and authors), as well as the actual process of combining traditional texts with contemporary melodies with authority.

This notion links the composers with an authoritative revelation (ancestors through the Gavurivo wind), and thus legitimizes the process in accordance with local epistemology. Additional comparisons can also be made with Lindstrom’s observations concerning Melanesian forms of ‘copyright’ (which are intrinsically tied to authority), when considering the practice of appropriating melodies from the radio and non-indigenous sources. 18 Lindstrom explains that: ‘the traditional production of knowledge is not organized in terms of what we might call free intellectual inquiry; rather, it is rigidly territorialized so that unless a person possess requisite copyrights, entire domains of knowledge remain off-limits’ (1990, 317). The point asserted here is not that knowing per se is off-limits, but rather admitting knowledge, or possessing the authority to share knowledge, is restricted by culturally determined authorities. Authoritative ‘copyrights’ also apply to recognized sources of inspiration, which in this case applies to the Gavurivo wind, which is the source of both the Paramana Strangers inspiration as well as their authority as culture-bearers and culture-sharers.

It is also interesting to note that that the commercial nature of the recordings in question did not lessen in their value in terms of authentic representations or ‘archives’ of local traditions. According to Vagi, their commercial nature was viewed positively due to dissemination opportunities and the social rewards this bought, because demonstrating knowledge of tradition is an important source of prestige. Furthermore, their dissemination reinforces their value and authority as historical records. Vagi explains:

. . . [when our] first album came out under CHM label, came out with these songs, and

100% approval rating, for the old customary lyrics to be modernized. Because if they

were left like that, they would have been gone, wiped out . . . people say its good! (Personal communication, October, 2008)

This sentiment provides an important insight into the band members’ own readings of the song texts presented in this article, as the senior members of Paramana Strangers frequently expressed anxiety about the future of Aroma traditional culture and music. The band asserts that at the time of recording Matha Wa! they understood that the continuity of their traditions was under threat. They subsequently assert that ‘at the time’ it was appropriate to combine Marikamu texts with Lokal music, and releasing them commercially.

Some members of Paramana Strangers, however—including Vagi and Kiki—no longer consider the combination of traditional texts with Lokal melodies to be appropriate.19

18 This notion is reinforced by Hayward who asserts that in PNG: ‘we are not simply dealing with a discourse of

rip-offs but [we are] actually seeing the rip-off as an essential and locally legitimate practice’ (2000, 182; see

also Crowdy 2006).

19 This issue is explored in further detail in another publication (see Wilson 2011, 131).

Dow

nloa

ded

by [

Lan

cast

er U

nive

rsity

Lib

rary

] at

12:

21 3

0 O

ctob

er 2

014

264 Musicology Australia vol. 35, no. 2, 2013

Instead, they believe that traditional music should now be recorded and thus preserved in its entirety; Marikamu text must only be recorded with a Marikamu melody. As a result of this shift in values, the latest album from the third generation of Paramana Strangers (known as PSIII), Volume 2 Gera Kalani (2007), features two songs with Marikamu text and melody, and no songs featuring Marikamu texts with Lokal melodies.

This change in perspective can be attributed to a number of factors. Early recordings such as Matha Wa! are being mobilized as ‘records’ of local traditions. Their content is both symbolic and pragmatic, as it features both lyrical and thematic links to Aroma traditional culture, which the band believes is under threat due to urbanization and westernization. Vagi further explains the importance of sustaining Aroma traditions in this context:

. . . we want to maintain tradition . . . we want to maintain the linkage to the real

Aroma language, the Old Aroma language . . . it gives us strength and power, traditional power and strength, that’s our mainstay. (Personal communication,

December, 2008)

The use of Marikamu melodies as a means of sustaining traditional culture is also an important social action that reinforces links to ‘home’ (an indigenous concept referred to in tok pisin as ‘ples’), in which indigenous notions of identity and belonging are rooted.20 This has become of heightened importance in recent years because most of the original band members and their families now live in Port Moresby, PNG’s largest urban centre. The importance of maintaining links with ‘home’ has been explored in other ethnographic research in PNG, and it is understood that no one who wishes to keep up meaningful relations with their ‘home’ can become an independent townsman looking out for his own interests—he is ‘inevitably a tribesman-townsman’ (Sillitoe 2000, 164). Lokal stringband recordings are thus important historical records that link urban musicians to rural ‘homes’, and being able to interpret them in accordance with traditional ideas and values is an important source of local social prestige.

Conclusion

To the Paramana Strangers, the interpretation and functions of popular songs, even once recorded, are fluid, and adapt to changing contexts surrounding sustainability, cultural continuity, and the way traditions are understood and defined. Specifically, songs on Matha Wa! sustain ideas about traditional compositional practices, the origin of songs and creativity, cultural values attributed to melodies and texts, ancient poetic language, as well as specific texts. Songs on Matha Wa! also function symbolically as a link to past traditions, and to a rural ‘home’ or cultural centre. Their value is emphasized by the fact that despite shifts in views towards the role of sound recordings in documenting tradition, Paramana Strangers still consider popular music (and commercial recording) to be an important mechanism for sustaining culture.

This article has advocated for the recognition of popular song traditions and their local cultural significances, and has argued that their exploration enriches our understanding of music’s capacity to sustain local culture. This approach also identifies the role popular music recordings play in keeping local cultural records, as well as how these recordings are

20 The importance of ples as a PNG cultural construct has been addressed by a number of scholars (see Gillespie

(2009, 231) and Ward (2000, 231)).

Dow

nloa

ded

by [

Lan

cast

er U

nive

rsity

Lib

rary

] at

12:

21 3

0 O

ctob

er 2

014

Musicology Australia, Oli Wilson, Popular Music as Local Culture 265

interpreted in the present and thus shape local definitions of ‘tradition’. Broadly speaking, the study of remote popular music traditions (and industries) exemplifies the growing realization that: ‘hegemonic theories of cultural imperialism [are] being undermined by the evidence of how musicians were thinking and behaving in situ’ (Cottrell 2010, 18). Although this article is limited to the analysis of songs from only one album, I strongly suspect that the broader perspectives and themes explored throughout this article are not isolated. PNG musicians have been recording their music and releasing it locally for over three decades. In PNG alone, many other bands from a vast range of languages and cultural groups released music in the late 1970s and 1980s.21 Those that I encountered during my fieldwork were also regarded as having special social and cultural significance comparable with the Paramana Strangers, indicating that there is considerable scope for further research in this area.

REFERENCES

Barz, Gregory F., and Cooley, Timothy J. (2008), Shadows in the Field: New Perspectives for Fieldwork in Ethnomusicology. New York: Oxford University Press.

Bendrups, Dan (2005), ‘Returning Borrowed Goods: The Motive for Establishing a Rapanui Music Archive’. SICRI 2: 1–12.

Bendrups, Dan (2006), ‘Researchers, Musicians or Record Producers? Negotiating Roles and Responsibilities in Music Ethnography’. Context 31: 19 –34.

Brady, Erika (1999), A Spiral Way: How the Phonograph Changed Ethnography. Mississippi: University Press of Mississippi.

Cattermole, Jenifer (2011), ‘Fiji Islands: A Sustainable Future for Sigidrigi?’, in Godrey Baldacchino (ed.), Islands Songs: A Global Repertoire. United Kingdown: The Scarecrow Press, 135– 153.

Cottrell, Stephen (2010), ‘Ethnomusicology and the Music Industries: An Overview’. Ethnomusicology Forum 19/1: 3 –25.

Crowdy, Denis (2001), ‘The Guitar Cultures of Papua New Guinea: Regional, Social and Stylistic Diversity’, in Andy Bennett, and Kevin Dawe (eds), Guitar Cultures. Oxford: Berg, 135– 156.

Crowdy, Denis (2005), Guitar Style, Open Tunings, and Stringband Music in Papua New Guinea. Boroko: Institute of Papua New Guinean Studies.

Crowdy, Denis (2006), ‘Tribute Without Attribution: Kopikat, Covers and Copyright in Papua New Guinea’, in Shane Homan (ed.), Access All Eras: Tribute Bands and Global Pop Culture. Berkshire: Open University Press, 229–240.

Fargion, Janet Topp (2009), ‘For My Own Research Purposes?: Examining Ethnomusicology Field Methods for a Sustainable Music’. The World of Music 51: 76 –93.

Feld, Steven (1982), Sound and Sentiment: Birds, Weeping, Poetics and Song in Kaluli Expression. Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press.

Feld, Steven (1988), ‘Aesthetics as Iconicity of Style, or ”Lift-up-over Sounding”: Getting into the Kaluli Groove’. Yearbook for Traditional Music 20: 74 – 113.

Gegeo, David Welchman, and Watson-Gegeo, Karen Ann (2001), ‘“How We Know”: Kwaraae Rural Villagers Doing Indigenous Epistemology’. The Contemporary Pacific 13/1: 55 –88.

Gewertz, Deborah, and Errington, Frederick (1987), ‘Of Unfinished Dialogues and Paper Pigs’. American Ethnologist 41: 367 – 376.

Gillespie, Kirsty (2009), ‘Behind Every Tree?: Ethnomusicology in Papua New Guinea’, in Elizabeth Mackinlay, Brydie-Leigh Bartleet, and Katelyn Barney (eds), Musical Islands: Exploring Connections between Music, Place and Research. Cambridge: Cambridge Scholars Press, 20–32.

Hau’ofa, Epeli (1975), ‘Anthropology and Pacific Islanders’. Oceania 45: 283 – 289. Hau’ofa, Epeli (1993), ‘Our Sea of Islands’, in Eric Waddell, Vijay Naidu, and Epeli Hau’ofa (eds), A New

Oceania: Rediscovering our Sea of Island. Suva, Fiji: The University of the South Pacific School of Social and Economic Development, in Association with Beake, 2 – 16.

Hau’ofa, Epeli (2000), ‘The Ocean in Us’. The Contemporary Pacific 10: 392 – 410. Hayward, Philip (2000), Music at the Boarders: Not Drowning, Waving and their Engagement with Papua New

Guinea Culture (1986 – 1996). Sydney: John Libbey and Company Pty Ltd.

21 The Institute of Papua New Guinea Studies directed by Don Niles has been instrumental in locating and

documenting much of these early locally-made recordings (Niles 1987, 1988a, 1988b, 1989, 1992).

Dow

nloa

ded

by [

Lan

cast

er U

nive

rsity

Lib

rary

] at

12:

21 3

0 O

ctob

er 2

014

266 Musicology Australia vol. 35, no. 2, 2013

Henry, Ella, and Pene, Hone (2001), ‘Kaupapa Maori: Locating Indigenous Ontology, Epistemology and Methodology in the Academy’. Organization 8/2: 234 – 242.

Hereniko, Vilsoni (2000), ‘Indigenous Knowledge and Academic Imperialism’, in Robert Borofsky (ed.), Remembrance of Pacific Pasts: An Invitation to Remake History. Hawai’i: Unioversity of Hawai’i Press, 78– 91.

Hviding, Edvard (2003), ‘Between Knowledges: Pacific Studies and Academic Disciplines’. The Contemporary Pacific 15/1: 43 – 73.

Iamoulea, Wari (1979), ‘Dispute Management and Social Organisation among the Parmana People of Aroma Coast/Central Province of Papua New Guinea’. BA Honours, University of Papua New Guinea.

Keesing, Roger M. (1989), ‘Creating the Past: Custom and Identity in the Contemporary Pacific’. The Contemporary Pacific 1: 19–42.

Lancefield, Robert (1998), ‘Music Traces’ Retraceable Paths: The Repatriation of Recorded Sound’. Journal of Folklore Research 35: 47 –68.

Lindstrom, Lamont (1990), ‘Big Men as Ancestors: Inspiration and Copyrights on Tanna (Vanuatu)’. Ethnology 29/4: 313 – 326.

Linnekin, Jocelyn (1992), ‘On the Theory and Politics of Cultural Construction in the Pacific’. Oceania 62/4: 249–256.

Lobley, Noel James (2011), ‘Recording the Vitamins of African Music’. History and Anthropology 22/4: 415 – 429. Metraux, Rhoda (1990), ‘Music in Tambunam’, in Nancy Lutkehaus (ed.), Sepik Heritage: Tradition and Change

in Papua New Guinea. Bathurst: Crawford House Press, 523– 534. Moulin, Jane Freeman (1996), ‘What’s Mine Is Yours? Cultural Borrowing in a Pacific Context’. The

Contemporary Pacific 8: 128– 153. Niles, Don (1981), Kamu Maria: Music of the Maopa and Aloma. Port Moresby: Institue of Papua New Guinea

Studies. Niles, Don (1987), Commercial Recording of Papua New Guinea Music Supplement. Port Moresby, 1985

Supplement Institute of Papua New Guinea Studies. Niles, Don (1988a), Commercial Recording of Papua New Guinea Music Supplement. Port Moresby, 1987

Supplement Institute of Papua New Guinea Studies. Niles, Don (1988b), Commercial Recording of Papua New Guinea Music Supplement. Port Moresby, 1987

Suppliment Institute of Papua New Guinea Studies. Niles, Don (1989), Commercial Recording of Papua New Guinea Music Supplement. Port Moresby, 1988

Supplement Institute of Papua New Guinea Studies. Niles, Don (1992), Commercial Recording of Papua New Guinea Music Supplement. Port Moresby, 1992

Suppliment Institute of Papua New Guinea Studies. Niles, Don (2000), ‘Polynesian Hymns in Papua: The Synthesis of a Christian Educational Tool and Local

Creative Expression’. Journal of International Development and Cooperation 6: 145– 158. Paramana Strangers III (2007), Volume 2 Gera Kalani. Chin H. Meen. Paramana Strangers (1981), Matha Wa! Chin H. Meen. Paramana Strangers (1978), Paradise Calling. Paradise Recording Company. Philpott, Malcolm (1995), ‘Developments in Papua New Guinea’s Popular Music Industry: The Media and

Technological Change in a Country with Many Cultures’. Perfect Beat 2/3: 98– 114. Philpott, Malcolm (1998), ‘Developments in Papua New Guinea’s Popular Music Industry’, in Philip Hayward

(ed.), Sound Alliances. London: Cassell, 107– 122. Pihama, Leonie, Cram, Fiona and Walker, Shelia (2002), ‘Creating Methodological Space: A Literature Review

of Kaupapa Maori Research’. Canadian Journal of Native Education 26: 30 –43. Rice, Timothy (2008), ‘Comparitive Musicology’. (Accessed 10 November 2011), ,http://www.oxfordmusiconl

ine.com. Ruskin, Jesse (2006), ‘Collecting and Connecting: Archiving Filipino American Music in Los Angeles’. Pacifc

Review of Ethnomusicology 11: 1 –7. Samuels, David W., Meintjes, Louise, Ochoa, Ana Maria and Porcello, Thomas (2010), ‘Soundscapes: Toward a

Sounded Anthropology’. Annual Review of Anthropology 39/1: 329 – 345. Seeger, Anthony (1986), ‘The Role of Sound Archives in Ethnomusicology Today’. Ethnomusicology 30/2:

261–276. Seeger, Anthony (1991), ‘After the Alligator Swallows Your Microphone: The Future (?) of Field Recordings’, in

Nancy Cassell McEntire (ed.), Essays in Honor of Frank J Gillis. Indiana: Ethnomusicology Publications Group, 37 – 49.

Seeger, Anthony (1996), ‘Ethnomusicologists, Archives, Professional Organizations, and the Shifting Ethics of Intellectual Property’. Yearbook for Traditional Music 28: 87 – 105.

Seeger, Anthony (2001), ‘Intellectual Property and Audiovisual Archives and Collections’. In: Folk Heritage Collections in Crisis. Washington DC: Council on Library and Information.

Seeger, Anthony (2004), ‘New Technology Requires New Collaborations: Changing Ourselves to Better Shape the Future’. Musicology Australia 27/1: 94 – 110.

Dow

nloa

ded

by [

Lan

cast

er U

nive

rsity

Lib

rary

] at

12:

21 3

0 O

ctob

er 2

014

Musicology Australia, Oli Wilson, Popular Music as Local Culture 267

Shelemay, Kay Kaufman (1991), ‘Recording Technology, the Record Industry, and Ethnomusicological Scholarship’, in Bruno Nettl, and Philip V. Bohlman (eds), Comparative Musicology and the Anthropology of Music. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 277– 292.

Sillitoe, Paul (2000), Social Change in Melanesia: Development and History. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.

Strathern, Andrew (1983), ‘Research in Papua New Guinea: Cross-Currents of Conflict’. RAIN 58/58: 4 –10. Strathern, Marilyn (1987), ‘The Limits of Auto-Anthropology’, in Anthony Jackson (ed.), Anthropology at

Home. London: Tavistock Publications, 16–37. Suwa, Jun’ichiro (2001), ‘Representing Sorrow in Stringband Laments in the Madang Area, Papua New Guinea’.

People and Culture in Oceania 17: 47 –66. Teaiwa, Teresia (2006), ‘On Analogies: Rethinking the Pacific in a Global Context’. The Contemporary Pacific

18/1: 71 – 87. Trask, H. (1991), ‘Natives and Anthropologists: The Colonial Struggle’. The Contemporary Pacific 3/1: 159 – 67. Walker, Shayne, Eketone, Anaru and Gibbs, Anita (2006), ‘An Exploration of Kaupapa Maori Research, Its

Principles, Processes and Applications’. International Journal of Social Research Methodology 9/4: 331 – 344. Ward, Michael (2000), ‘Fighting for Ples in the City: Young Highlands Men in Port Moresby, Papua New

Guinea’, in Sinclair Dinnen, and Allison Ley (eds), Reflections on Violence in Melanesia. Canberra: Asia Pacific Press, 223 – 238.

Webb, Michael (1993), Lokal Musik: Lingua Franca Song and Identity in Papua New Guinea. Boroko: Cultural Studies Division, National Research Institute.

Webb, Michael (1995a), ‘Pipal Bilong Tru/a Truly Musical People’. (PhD thesis, Wesleyan University). Webb, Michael (1995b), ‘Sources, Ownership of Songs and Approaches to Composition in Recent Commercial

Music from Rabaul’, in Robert Reigle (ed.), New Guinea Ethnomusicological Conference, Occasional Papers in Pacific Ethnomusicology 4. Auckland: University of Auckland.

Webb, Michael (1998), ‘Popular Music in Papua New Guinea’, in Adrienne L. Kaeppler, and J.W. Love (eds), The Garland Encyclopedia of World Music 9. New York: Garland.

Webb, Michael, and Niles, Don (1987), ‘Periods in Papua New Guinea Music History’. Bikmaus 7: 50–62. Wilson, Oli (2011), ‘Papua New Guinea: Popular Music and the Continuity of Tradition: An Ethnography of

Songs from the Band Paramana Strangers’, in Godfrey Baldacchino (ed.), Island Songs: A Global Repertoire. Plymouth: Scarecrow Press, 119 – 135.

Author Biography

Oli Wilson is a Lecturer in the Music Department at Otago University, Dunedin, New Zealand. His research

interests include Indigenous popular music from Papua New Guinea, Australia and New Zealand.

Email: oli.wilson@otago.ac.nz

Dow

nloa

ded

by [

Lan

cast

er U

nive

rsity

Lib

rary

] at

12:

21 3

0 O

ctob

er 2

014