Father Ankton births more political pop
The ultra-nationalist artist turns his focus to his motherland Buganda, using the chorus of their anthem in one of his songs
The ultra-nationalist artist turns his focus to his motherland Buganda, using the chorus of their anthem in one of his songs
By Sebidde Kiryowa
He rose to instant fame in late 2001 because of No More Virgin, a Luganda song that proved a favourite with FM stations in Kampala. It was nothing sophisticated, but it would not be fair to say it hit by chance.
Although unlike most hits it was not made for the dance floor, the song had comic but thought-provoking lyrics that with all intents and purposes painted a clear picture of the plight of victims of the war in Northern Uganda. But more important than the meaning of the lyrics was its spot-on timing. It came out when the war in the north had stirred up much furore.
The chorus went something like this: Dear Museveni we’re happy/ to receive you here in Gulu/ the education is poor/There’s no more Virgin in Gulu/ They were all raped by Kony. He went on to raise issues of social concern like the folly of paying attention to American victims of terrorism when we care little about the masses that died at Kanungu and at the hands of ADF rebels.
Roughly a year after No More Virgin (which was part of his debut album Abantu Be Gulu) stirred things up, 20-something-year-old Father Ankton (real names, John Kalungi) is out with another one. Abantu Be Gulu, dedicated to the people of Gulu, also had notables like Ninga Nvubu (popularly known as Kyoyagala) and Rat In Trap.
His latest album, Ekitibwa Kya Buganda Namaddala, is a six-track offering loaded with the same politically conscious lyrics that dominated his previous one, a thing some critics see as a problem. Is he bothered? Not likely.
“People say I am too political in my music but I believe that man is a political animal. Politics controls how I sleep, eat and live. When I talk about political changes, I am talking about things that affect me,†he says.
Not entirely unconvincing for an artist whose second stage name– Ankton– is actually an acronym that stands for: ‘African nationalist Kalungi totally opposes neocolonialism.’ He took on the mock-title ‘Father’ as a reflection of his childhood dreams of becoming a priest.
The singer, a graduate of Music, Dance and Drama from Makerere University, propounds a million political theories in person as he does in his music, if you care to listen. But I steer him back to the music. He tells me he had to withdraw Abantu Be Gulu from circulation despite it’s success because he fell out with his publisher: “However, I might eventually decide to get the good songs off the album and include them on the new one. Otherwise, I forgot about that album altogether,†Ankton says.
But that was not the only trouble he had with the album: “On my previous album, I did songs for Ugandans. I did not have a chance to tread the path of my choice. However, on this album, I do what I’m interested in,†he professes.
Abantu Be Gulu was produced by Douglas in Jackson’s Yard Studio in Kajjansi. Ekitibwa Kya Buganda Namaddala was done by Joe Tabula in his B.K Studios in Najjanakumbi. But Ankton feels he had a lot of creative license and control: “I did a lot of directing in the production process and although I am not so good at using computers, artistically I feel I am in control of this,†he says.
And does Ekitibwa Kya Buganda Namaddala live up to the listeners’ expectations? It depends on your viewpoint. Creativity is one thing this volume has going for it. Kibugga, its opening song, is an adaptation of a Kiganda folk song. Although Ankton modifies it, it does not lose that transcendental quality.
One of the most remarkable songs is the title track. It is not exactly a rendition of the Buganda national anthem. Yes, it does use the same chorus, but non of the verses. Instead, Father Ankton, a skilled wordsmith, gives us his own version of allegiance to Buganda.
Buganda are a stepping stone for opportunistic political leaders to achieve their own ends, he argues unapologetically. The production however, leaves a lot to be desired.
Though quite an amazing lyricist in Luganda, he first ventures into English on this album in the ballad I Hate You But I Love You. Nothing sophisticated. No strings, no vocal histrionics and no accent, but he manages to capture the pensive mood of a broken-hearted man whose girlfriend just ditched him.
Ani Attadde Embwa (Who let the dogs out) is more like a spoof of Bahamen’s Grammy-winning dance track Who Let The Dogs Out than a Luganda version. This is a reminder of Ankton’s roots as a youth who gained popularity singing popular western songs in Luganda in Karoake clubs around Kampala. But this song with all its dramatics falls flat on its face because it fails to capture the dancy tempo and mood of the original.
Think About Dance and Come Back are R&B attempts sung in English that miserably fail to impress. Granted: Father Ankton is a talented young man, but he would be much better off developing the areas where he excels best— local pop sung in Luganda.
By Sebidde Kiryowa
He rose to instant fame in late 2001 because of No More Virgin, a Luganda song that proved a favourite with FM stations in Kampala. It was nothing sophisticated, but it would not be fair to say it hit by chance.
Although unlike most hits it was not made for the dance floor, the song had comic but thought-provoking lyrics that with all intents and purposes painted a clear picture of the plight of victims of the war in Northern Uganda. But more important than the meaning of the lyrics was its spot-on timing. It came out when the war in the north had stirred up much furore.
The chorus went something like this: Dear Museveni we’re happy/ to receive you here in Gulu/ the education is poor/There’s no more Virgin in Gulu/ They were all raped by Kony. He went on to raise issues of social concern like the folly of paying attention to American victims of terrorism when we care little about the masses that died at Kanungu and at the hands of ADF rebels.
Roughly a year after No More Virgin (which was part of his debut album Abantu Be Gulu) stirred things up, 20-something-year-old Father Ankton (real names, John Kalungi) is out with another one. Abantu Be Gulu, dedicated to the people of Gulu, also had notables like Ninga Nvubu (popularly known as Kyoyagala) and Rat In Trap.
His latest album, Ekitibwa Kya Buganda Namaddala, is a six-track offering loaded with the same politically conscious lyrics that dominated his previous one, a thing some critics see as a problem. Is he bothered? Not likely.
“People say I am too political in my music but I believe that man is a political animal. Politics controls how I sleep, eat and live. When I talk about political changes, I am talking about things that affect me,†he says.
Not entirely unconvincing for an artist whose second stage name– Ankton– is actually an acronym that stands for: ‘African nationalist Kalungi totally opposes neocolonialism.’ He took on the mock-title ‘Father’ as a reflection of his childhood dreams of becoming a priest.
The singer, a graduate of Music, Dance and Drama from Makerere University, propounds a million political theories in person as he does in his music, if you care to listen. But I steer him back to the music. He tells me he had to withdraw Abantu Be Gulu from circulation despite it’s success because he fell out with his publisher: “However, I might eventually decide to get the good songs off the album and include them on the new one. Otherwise, I forgot about that album altogether,†Ankton says.
But that was not the only trouble he had with the album: “On my previous album, I did songs for Ugandans. I did not have a chance to tread the path of my choice. However, on this album, I do what I’m interested in,†he professes.
Abantu Be Gulu was produced by Douglas in Jackson’s Yard Studio in Kajjansi. Ekitibwa Kya Buganda Namaddala was done by Joe Tabula in his B.K Studios in Najjanakumbi. But Ankton feels he had a lot of creative license and control: “I did a lot of directing in the production process and although I am not so good at using computers, artistically I feel I am in control of this,†he says.
And does Ekitibwa Kya Buganda Namaddala live up to the listeners’ expectations? It depends on your viewpoint. Creativity is one thing this volume has going for it. Kibugga, its opening song, is an adaptation of a Kiganda folk song. Although Ankton modifies it, it does not lose that transcendental quality.
One of the most remarkable songs is the title track. It is not exactly a rendition of the Buganda national anthem. Yes, it does use the same chorus, but non of the verses. Instead, Father Ankton, a skilled wordsmith, gives us his own version of allegiance to Buganda.
Buganda are a stepping stone for opportunistic political leaders to achieve their own ends, he argues unapologetically. The production however, leaves a lot to be desired.
Though quite an amazing lyricist in Luganda, he first ventures into English on this album in the ballad I Hate You But I Love You. Nothing sophisticated. No strings, no vocal histrionics and no accent, but he manages to capture the pensive mood of a broken-hearted man whose girlfriend just ditched him.
Ani Attadde Embwa (Who let the dogs out) is more like a spoof of Bahamen’s Grammy-winning dance track Who Let The Dogs Out than a Luganda version. This is a reminder of Ankton’s roots as a youth who gained popularity singing popular western songs in Luganda in Karoake clubs around Kampala. But this song with all its dramatics falls flat on its face because it fails to capture the dancy tempo and mood of the original.
Think About Dance and Come Back are R&B attempts sung in English that miserably fail to impress. Granted: Father Ankton is a talented young man, but he would be much better off developing the areas where he excels best— local pop sung in Luganda.