Music is a medium whose power is often forgotten. Taken for granted, it becomes ambient noise, part of the chaos of daily life; habitually serving as a distraction and way to pass time as we commute to work, cook dinner or wash the dishes. When music is characterised as a medium of relaxation it means that we don’t question the programs, the radio hosts, or the songs played by our favourite stations; why this artist, why not others? Such a characterisation would ignore the long history of political music and its more recent deployment as a vehicle of protest against underrepresentation of Indigenous voices and the expression of an alternative Indigenous future. While community radio stations and online communities have contributed to the flourishing of these narratives, mainstream radio is yet to catch up and increasingly, Indigenous voices are getting lost in the noise.
The Industry as it Stands
Politics in Australian music has a way of never being quite out of earshot. Artists such as Kev Carmody, Archie Roach, Yothu Yindi, Paul Kelly and Midnight Oil are some of the founders of the protest sub-genre in music, which ignited discussions surrounding Aboriginal rights and issues; their singles such as “Treaty”, “Beds are Burning” and “From Little Things, Big Things Grow” provided the soundtrack to the landmark Mabo case of 1992. Today, only a small handful of Indigenous musicians receive airplay and recognition within the mainstream music industry, with the likes of Dan Sultan, Jessica Mauboy, and Baker Boy among the most recognised. Yet, according to the Australian Council Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander Arts Board, only 0.14 per cent of music on Australian commercial radio is made by an Indigenous person. The ABC ranked only slightly higher, dedicating two per cent of their airtime to Aboriginal musicians.
Contemporary and traditional Aboriginal musicians are prolifically creating music as a way to vocalise Indigenous issues, express ideas and continue lasting rituals in order to rebuild their nation’s compromised identity, but this music just isn’t being distributed. Indigenous musicians like Neil Morris, a member of the Yorta Yorta people whose country straddles the border between lower NSW and Victoria, know the bias in the industry well; “Certainly I feel that there is a massive under representation of Indigenous music out there in the world. You only try to look out and do a bit of research to see that there’s not as much one might hope to be able to find out there.”
Song Cycles, a research project dedicated to Indigenous music in Australia, was commissioned by the Australian Council for the Arts and the Australasian Performing Rights Association in 2010. Undertaken to investigate the systematic barriers within the music industry, the report uncovered the obstacles hindering the publication and creation of music by Indigenous artists. Issues of access due to geographic location, touring costs, inability to use recording studios and equipment as well as stigma against the artists were among the findings of the final report. Industry-wide barriers of access and representation are perpetuated by those within the music scene, with Chair of the Australian Council Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander Arts Board, Dr Mark Bin Bakar, stating “There are some uglier attitudes too. Like the promotor who told a muso when they turned up to the gig, ‘If I knew you were Aboriginal, I wouldn’t have booked you.’” This sense of exclusion and lack of willingness to assist Indigenous musicians is indicative of a wider societal racism towards Indigenous Australians. This bias is a known hurdle for young Aboriginal artists like Akala Newman, a Wiradjuri woman, student and singer; “As soon as you say you’re Aboriginal, people automatically perceive you differently, and they automatically categorise you into this position, and that’s the problem.”
Race politics and music intertwine
This lack of representation of Indigenous musicians in mainstream media does not mean that there aren’t any artists trying to make waves and incite a change in the industry. Music plays an important role in Aboriginal cultures across Australia, and many First Nations peoples use songs to tell stories and communicate issues to wider audiences. A.B. Original are one of the loudest Indigenous voices protesting and seeking change through their music; the act a collaboration between solo artist Briggs, an award-winning rapper and Yorta Yorta man, and Trials, an ARIA winning producer and Ngarrindjeri man. Describing themselves as ‘socially conscious outspoken Indigenous artists,’ A.B Original disseminate extremely political music and are unofficial leaders of a new wave of Indigenous activism. Their political work builds on the foundations laid down by musicians like Yothu Yindi and Midnight Oil, in an attempt for wider recognition of First Nations issues.
Led by artists such as AB Original, a wave of Indigenous artists are using music to tell stories of inequality and seek a change of perspective towards Indigenous communities. Long gone are the days of passive songs about recognition. Now, First Nations musicians such as Neil Morris are using music to make much more radical political statements to re-imagine the Australian nation. Releases such as Morris’s ‘Australia Does Not Exist’ are key in communicating the contemporary discourses Indigenous populations are elevating.
“For me, getting to a point to create a song with the title ‘Australia Does Not Exist’ was a manifestation of years of living my life a particular way that still believes in the true law of indigeneity in this land,” says Morris. “I hope that there can be greater awareness that every single part of this island land that we share with the 25 million people now, are lands that have been tribal lands for indigenous people for countless thousands of years”
An assertion of the innate connection politics has to music is a key preoccupation of Aboriginal artists participating in this new wave of Aboriginal activism. Paul Gorrie, a Gunai-kurnai and Yorta Yorta man, music teacher and DJ, plays a welcome to country at the beginning of every set; “It’s my way of reinforcing that everything is political, even a DJ set can be political, and this is something that has to be identified.” With enduring issues surrounding equality, access to resources and healthcare, as well as growing injustices surrounding youth incarceration and trauma inflicted by rehabilitation processes, music is a tool for Indigenous people to speak out in a proactive and noticeable way. Specific genres, particularly hip-hop and R&B, are being widely adopted by Indigenous musicians based on their association with oppression and resistance. This makes these genres a natural step for Indigenous music, according to Gorrie; “it makes sense that we’re using that genre, because that’s where it came from over in America. It came from forms of resistance that we’re trying to do now. More Aboriginal people are making it and it’s getting the attention it deserves.” This isn’t the only parallel between the new wave of Indigenous protest music and the types of activism being practiced in America. The Black Lives Matter movement is attributed as an influencer on First Nations activism, with Gorrie stating “We get to talk to other people over there and understand what tactics and strategies they’ve used. The issues parallel each other, but they’re all different levels on the spectrum”.
“But it does beg the question a little bit of should Indigenous peoples have to … even be in the position where they should use their art to express the kind of difficulties that we face,” says Morris. Asking this question puts ideas of social change and artistic expression in Australia under the microscope. This exact dilemma is being felt by the Indigenous community, and is a reality Indigenous musicians confront when it comes to their art.
“I think music is one of the most powerful ways we can get our messages out there,” says Neil Morris. “It could be said that we should be able to just release some traditional songs, but we are in the climate that we are and the world we are in regard to political structures. … it is a very powerful tool for us to use music to have an impact on the political regimes and social regimes that are currently at play in this country.”
Inequality still reigns supreme
But what type of impact can be made if there are significant barriers inhibiting music creation in the first place? Issues of access are important to note when it comes to the dissemination of Indigenous music. The 2010 Song Cycle report indicates that in urban areas where technology and internet access is readily available, it is easier and more affordable for Indigenous artists to create music. However, a major source of differentiation between Indigenous and non-Indigenous musicians is musical education and access to the technologies necessary to produce music. There are also vastly different experiences and levels of access within the Indigenous communities themselves. “When I was quite young, I was really wanting to pursue music, but at the time, we couldn’t afford to buy musical instruments or anything like that” Morris explains. His experience differs greatly to that of Akala Newman’s current situation “I get loads of emails saying there’s an internship at AIME or TAFE; even NIDA has an Aboriginal internship.” Such varying experiences lead to a privileging of urban voices within the Indigenous music community, with this unequal access based on a person’s geographic location indicative of systemic issues such as inconsistent support from a society indifferent to Indigenous issues.
What’s next?
Looking forward, there is a possibility of equitable representation on mainstream media, however there are certain protocols that need to be recognised. Due to the intricate laws surrounding language within Indigenous nations, Aboriginal music on mainstream media must be treated respectfully. A future of equality and representation should include the types of music and art that First Nations people want to be making; whether that be in traditional or contemporary. However, there is often a further question of whether Aboriginal languages should be heard on mainstream radio, by populations of people who have little connection to the language. As Gorrie says, “If I were to release something, I would want it to be heard by people who love it and understand the message, and it wouldn’t bother me if I didn’t get it played on a mainstream station.” Newman also points out that “If someone was singing a song from the [NSW] Darug nation in Western Australia, that song is not meant to be [played] in Western Australia, that song is meant to be [played] here [where the Darug people are based]. The message behind it is not culturally appropriate.” Intention is therefore a major component of Indigenous music and is a factor in its dissemination to a wider audience.
A Risk of Musical Colonisation
Cultural appropriation is a major concern threatening the beauty of Indigenous cultures in mainstream media. What can stem from a well-intentioned desire to support First Nations artists can culminate in the improper practicing of ritual and respect surrounding Indigenous music. Melbourne-based, non-Indigenous band Hiatus Kaiyote included a welcome to country by a Northern Territory elder on their album. This elder didn’t represent the lands on which the band created music or lived, and deeply offended other Indigenous peoples such as Gorrie. “I felt like that was very weird because it’s like, firstly, why are you getting a welcome to country on your album? And secondly, think about where you’re living. If you’re doing a welcome to country on your album, do it from where you live, not somewhere where you visited for two days.” As non-indigenous people seek to platform indigenous voices more, a risk of appropriation and tokenistic use of Aboriginal culture can occur; Indigenous voices being used as embellishment instead of given autonomy. Morris details better ways to promote collaboration and support for Indigenous artists than merely using aspects of Aboriginal culture in a weak attempt at support.
“If a large artist was to come to our community to work with a local person, and then go to create a song in language, and for them to sing that song entirely, I would not feel okay about that” says Morris. “If this band wanted to collaborate, … they could help put on a gig or something, or if they have access to funds or resources or a studio, they could support some young indigenous people from that community to record a really high quality piece of music … and so that way … the Indigenous community has been empowered.”
Empowerment is an important ingredient in growing the representation of Indigenous cultures in mainstream media. Empowerment can be achieved through access, as well as through support of the paths and messages that First Nations artists are pursuing. With the increasing awareness of Aboriginal rights, and the acceptance of diversity, there is hope for a future of authentic representation.