It’s a rare occurrence that a musical genre is debated before the first record has even been pressed. But it was a very specific set of circumstances that led to the birth of kaneka, the sound of New Caledonia, a small archipelago in the South Pacific colonised by France since 1853.
Like a scene from Dr Strangelove, kaneka is the result of a bizarrely formal brainstorm among New Caledonian musicians in 1986. Considering the islands’ 300-plus kanak tribes spoke 28 different languages, they decided that a sound was needed to unify them amid a growing independence movement. The result was a fusion of the syncopated pilou rhythms of tribal dances with influences spanning gospel, reggae and zouk.
Today, as the country’s political tensions continue to flare up, kaneka has adapted. Many songs have a distinctive beat made from traditional bark-clappers, while younger bands such as Gayulaz and Nayrouz incorporate the kind of rap breakdowns and Auto-Tuned vocals you might associate more with Ayia Napa rather than Melanesia.
Geography has helped define the genre, too: the north of the island is characterised by the songs of protest from kaneka’s early years, while to the south of the mainland, the melodies are influenced by the religious hymns introduced by Protestant missionaries in the 1840s. Eminent folk-singer Edou and the ensemble OK! Ryos are emblematic of the latter, with their relaxed sound.
Today, kaneka’s players are keen to grow beyond its politicised local roots and put New Caledonia on the world music map. But the South Pacific’s relative isolation means that the sound has yet to break into the international market. Many parts of the country still lack sufficient internet connectivity, thus limiting artists’ ability to upload and self-promote like other hyper-local music. As a result, CD sales remain a primary source of income.
“Commercially, it’s different here,” says Alain Lecante, of Mangrove Productions, the label producing the majority of kaneka in the capital, Nouméa. “From May till October, the groups are fighting to be the big wedding hit. That’s when a few songs really take off.”
Mangrove’s social media accounts are the most reliable hub for kaneka fans, but as revenue from record sales inevitably dwindles, Lecante says more help is needed.
“We need more support from our national institutions if the musicians are to travel abroad,” he says. “New Caledonia is a long way from everything!”
Though Mangrove sells the odd compilation on Amazon, kaneka is still waiting on a crossover release to bring it to the ears of more enthusiasts. But with niche global music styles continuing to gain exposure online, it might not be long before you hear that distinctive pilou beat on a Spotify playlist. Maybe an indie label somewhere is listening…
