ROAD
TO REMBETIKA - GAIL HOLST
If as Mark Perry of Alternative TV once surmised in the song How Much
Longer that "the Punks don't know nothing, the straights
don't know nothing, the hippies don't know nothing, you don't know
nothing, we don't know nothing" then who, I ask, might know
anything? The Greeks, perhaps? And if so, do they have a word for it?
Yes and yes. And the word is 'rembetika', meaning 'an expression
of the artistic potential of the masses of the sub-proletariat of
Greek towns'.
You've got to admire the Greeks and pay them due respect for the way
they took a stand against austerity measures as imposed by the Greek
government at the behest of the European Union. Against police armed
with guns they rioted again and again through the streets of Athens,
eating CS gas for breakfast and laughing in the face of State
oppression.
At various times it seemed as though they were on the point of
pushing their country over into a state of Anarchy, in its true
meaning of the word. Sadly, the heritage of being the cradle of
democracy in the end won over and faith was put into the electing of
anti-austerity politician Alexis Tsipras of the Syriza Party who, as
is the wont of all politicians, let his constituency down by buckling
and implementing the austerity measures as demanded by the EU and the
IMF.
The Greeks certainly put the English to shame who put up practically
no fight whatsoever against austerity measures as demanded not by the
EU but by the Conservative government; and then in a twinkling of an
eye voted not against David Cameron, George Osborne and the rest of
the Eton/Oxford Mafia responsible for imposing austerity but against
the EU. As if the EU was to blame for it being grim up North.
"We will not say that Greeks fight like heroes,"
said Winston Churchill once upon a time "But we will say that
heroes fight like Greeks." And he was right.
According to Gail Holst, author of Road To Rembetika - Music of a
Greek Sub-culture, Songs of Love, Sorrow & Hashish, 'Pre-war
rembetika is hashish music', meaning the songs and the music
played in the taverns of the port of Piraeus in Greece during the
1920s and 1930s was hashish-fuelled. Rembetika was the voice
of the dispossessed, of those who held a natural dislike of the
police along with any other form of authority. It was the voice of
the voiceless, the result of cultures colliding where Turkish
immigrants met Greek proletariats; bonding over their mutual social
and economic position and in their adverse relationship to the
mainstream of Greek society.
Recognising their commonality as in it was they who were trapped in
poverty, they who were harassed by police and always they who were
ending up in jail; they sparked off from one and other via a shared
love of music and hash.
Their musical instruments were four-string prototypes of the
bouzouki, and between them they developed their own slang, their own
dress-style, and their own particular swagger. They had their own
taverns where they could sing, dance and smoke marijuana to their
heart's content, and when laws against the smoking and sale of
hashish were introduced and started to be enforced by police, they
simply became more closer-knit so as to protect themselves from
prosecution.
Those who lived the anti-authoritarian lifestyle to the full were
called 'rembetes' or 'manges' and were defined not only by their
defiance in the face of poverty and repression and their refusal to
be submissive before the police but in their conspicuous generosity,
their spontaneity, and their knowing how to enjoy themselves.
Rembetika was urban folk. The expression and the mirror of working
class life, dreams, loves and sorrows as experienced by the Greek
sub-proletariat. Gail Holst compares it to the urban blues of New
Orleans, Chicago and Harlem but to widen the field of reference, it
could just as easily be compared to many other forms of music or
culture born from the working class. Meaning, rembetika was R&B,
rembetika was Rap, rembetika was Soul, Garage, Oi!, Grime, etc, etc.
Rembetika was Punk - Greek style.
Being a musician herself, in her book Holst focusses a lot upon the
actual music as in the instruments, the scales, the metres and the
rhythms. Half of her book is taken up with the translations of the
rembetika lyrics. She does, however, touch upon the relationship of
rembetika with politics and the observations she comes up with are
interesting.
Holst points out that there is less publicity about the sufferings of
the Greeks during the second World War than about other Europeans.
During the years of Italian and then German occupation, for example,
not only did the entire Jewish population of Greece perish but
hundreds of thousands of Greeks died of starvation. During the
following Greek civil war and the interference of the British and
later American governments, the witch-hunting of communists became
open warfare with even napalm being used against them. According to
Holst, it was rembetika songs that were sung all over the country by
a population which felt them to be an expression of their collective
suffering and rage.
During the dictatorship years in Greece (bolstered, it must be
remembered, by America) rembetika wasn't tolerated at all. Ostensibly
the persecution was against hashish smoking but because of the
association between hash and rembetika, musicians were given much
harsher sentences than other offenders. Even the Left had no time for
the rembetes and were as rigid and intolerant of them as the
Right-wing establishment, essentially because they were not
organisable. The rembetes, the manges and rembetika was ungovernable.
Rembetika then, is clearly not just a form of music but more a state
of mind and a way of life. Holst explains, however, that once the
record companies got involved and rembetika became popular with the
mainstream of Greek society, it lost its power to represent that
state of mind. The musicianship became much more sophisticated and
the association with hashish watered down. The form became vulgarised
and associated with merely the smashing of plates and drunken dancing
in expensive clubs and bars.
For all that, the spirit of rembetika had been cast in stone and
every decade or so its tomb would be raided by younger generations
seeking inspiration and something a little more real than what
they might have on offer to them at the time. Moreover, like a
phoenix rising from the ashes, the spirit would suddenly appear in
some other form besides music; be it in working class literature, art
or film. Or even as riots against austerity.
That same 'spirit of rembetika' is, of course, not totally unique to
Greece but can also be found within England, emanating primarily -
like in Greece - from the working class. In England it might be
referred to as the 'spirit of Albion' and, just as in Greece it's
neither of the Left or the Right but is instead ungovernable. When it
has appeared as, for example, in the form of Punk, like rembetika it
too has been assimilated, watered down and sold back as a commodity
for mainstream society though not before sending out shockwaves
affecting the whole of society.
When next it might appear and in what form is anyone's guess but
that's the beauty of it. Music, literature, art, and film can all be
used as 'an expression of the artistic potential of the masses of
the sub-proletariat' and can occur at any time. As can riots,
uprisings and insurrection erupting throughout the land...
John Serpico
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