on Ka & undeniability

"it's said the common thread with our enemies, is we was all men in need with no amenities, couldn't sit in peace, we each hit the streets for remedies"

“As a form, the blues is an autobiographical chronicle of personal catastrophe expressed lyrically” - Ralph Ellison

This is what repeatedly comes to mind when I think about Ka’s writing. The 52 year-old Brownsville native is one of the few musicians I still care about. As I’ve grown older, and more responsibility-laden, keeping up with music even from artists I love, hasn’t been something I have had the time for. But when I think about Ka, when I hear his writing, I become quiet. Listening to him speak about his work, be it showing early raps to older cousins, or his discomfort with the idea of performing itself - I sense no artifice, or marketing. This is someone who is aware he is a merchant in one of the world’s most lucrative industries, but refuses to act like a product himself - he might still be a firefighter at the Fire Department of New York.

The blues in his verse is devastating:

“Doomed in the womb surprised I ain’t see a hanger”

This is a catastrophe bordering on inexplicable, until we’re brought back down to earth:

“Start questioning affection when all you see is anger,

But now I'm in good hands
Surrounded by good women, good babies, good mans”

Roughly 10 albums deep, he still packs and ships his records himself. This is all the while having the respect of very well-known peers and fans across continents. This matters because while commercialism in art is becoming more and more inescapable - its important to see living proof of a purer way of making art and yes, selling it without selling yourself.

A reminder too of not getting caught up in the identity of being a Writer (TM). It is fine and natural to be a human being first - even while everyone pulls you in the opposite direction. Writers in the public imagination are either famously unwealthy or famous and wealthy, and the urge to look for routes to the latter is understandable. To quote Yasiin Bey, money is delicious. That said, I imagine industry executives talking to Ka about optimising his distribution process to increase revenue and I imagine his response. I think of what having two young children has done to my writing output and I think of how absurd that sentence is. It has taken me an embarrassingly long time to understand, that it is completely natural to produce less art when you have more mouths to feed, more people to hold, and more opportunities to be a human being.

“To gain a grain or morsel, soft became forceful”

Ka’s appeal is his undeniablity. You believe the stories he tells, whether you like them or not. I’ve been thinking today about the believabilty of poets. When I think about the writers I love, specifically those who I’ve been fortunate enough to watch in person, the string that links many of them together is their believability. The word authentic is thrown around too often and isn’t as clean. Someone can be ‘effective’, popular, talented even but this can all be overshadowed by a true story that sounds like a lie.

Ka’s work is a reminder is that slowly engaging with something is still important. You can’t glance at the ceiling of the sistine chapel and criticise Michaelangelo for not making work that’s accessible. Accessibility should be about making it easier to enter the chapel, not changing the ceiling. One of the reasons I haven’t listened to Ka’s more recent albums in full is that I’m waiting for when I have the time, which might never happen, and that’s fine and natural.

For economy many fought
Deeds in the street disastrous
Ironically many bought a Jesus piece or a Lazarus
Even friends in the frenzy became ravenous
Brothers named universal, wise, supreme became savages

Here’s to slowness. In Ka’s words: catch it at your leisure.