What's in a name?

By Denis Asiimwe
THEREZ is a Shakespearean quote about a rose and a name that might be regarded as being a perfect summary of the above subject but I won’t bother with it; it will give a pompous tilt to the discussion I am about to attempt, and we have enough of that from our parliamentarians, don’t we?

Instead, let me put it bluntly and plainly: How important is a musician’s name? To what? Well, to his/her career, his/her capacity for success, to his/her ability to get his/her message and musical vision across to his/her (hopefully) listening audience?

Well, rather important, if I may say so myself. Names have often been a critical part of one’s identity, with Hollywood and its support structure, including the music industry, figuring this out ages ago. Names are about branding, and thus, you are going to be a much easier brand to package if you are called Marylyn Monroe than Norma Jean. ( is actually reminds me that Elton John, who wrote the piano classic Candle in the Wind for Monroe was originally named Reginald Kenneth Dwight, which is not only a mouthful, but hilarious).

In the music industry, however, some people do keep their original names. They tend to fall into a rather de ned category: established obvious talents, with a highend pedigree and a sure-footedness that you cannot question. A list would include people like Michael Jackson, Janet Jackson, Dionne Warwick, Jonathan Butler, Gladys Knight, Randy Crawford, Whitney Houston, Luther Vandross, Anita Baker, Carlos Santana and Aretha Franklin. ese are people who transcend and own their genres so that doubting their ability is almost criminal.

In Uganda, the same comparison can be Kanyomozi are some examples. ey do not need to hide behind any fancy cute monikers and state their case bluntly: this, friends, is my name. And of course, you have those musicians who have themselves stamped so strongly on an industry, just one name will do.

Aaliyah pulled this o rather well, while in Uganda, Cindy and Juliana are easily recognisable by the rst names (unless you come across an alarmingly dull-witted music fan, no one is likely to say “Juliana who?”)

Of course, when it comes to genres, certain genres take liberties that can be both creative and sometimes outrageous; occasionally, of course, they are simply plain dumb. Hip-hop and raga are two genres that go to town as far as names are concerned: with hip-hop, you have got T.I, Eminem, LL Cool J, Ludacris, Jay-Z being just a few of a long and sometimes dazzling list led with lil’s and all sorts of monikers. Raga, of course, is equally creative, giving you Patra, Shaba Ranks, Shaggy and of course, the somewhat dubiously named Beenie Man.

Of course, the genre question applies in Uganda as well, where, within a genre best referred to as Afro-pop but that covers everything from raga to gods know what else, well, the names sound like something from an acid trip: Chameleon, Bobi Wine, Bebe Cool, Weasel, Sweet Kid, Caesarman, G-Snake, Toniks (ouch) and so on.

It can be worrying to read a name list of this sort. Hip-hop, of course, seems to have the more rational and certainly more creative names, some of my favourites being Lyrical Proof, I-Am-Enygma, Navio, Atlas, Lyrical G, GNL, Mun G, Big Trill and a host of others. ere’s some punch to these names, and the quality behind them (considering it’s our fastest growing genre) stage monikers of this nature.

The raga genre down here does have one name that ts the bill rather perfectly: Peter Miles; now that is a neat moniker of sorts. Of course some folks just go a little overboard with the whole name thing. Prince did it rather bizarrely with the whole Artist Formerly Known as blah and sign-thing, while it is impossible to keep up with Shawn Pu y Comb’s different name reincarnations.

Bands or groups of course have creative leeway with the whole name thing: they are supposed to nd something that epitomises the whole collection of talent, and you might have noticed this rather obvious di erence: e Eagles, Aerosmith or the Cranberries are a great place to start.

Hip-hop and R & B have had some great group names over the years, as has soul music. In Uganda, some of the names simply haven’t been up to scratch, though the live bands have fared rather better: Nocturnal, Qwela, The Uneven and Traveller are some of my favourite band names. I once run a blues and rock music festival where one of the bands was called Ten Men Called Rodney. Even before they came on stage, we knew they just had to be a cool lot.

Sometimes a musician nds an attribute or a nickname and goes with it: Babyface got his when some music exec noticed his rather innocent demeanour when he walked into a studio one day, and it has stuck ever since. Of course, the fact that Sweet Kid is not that sweet by any stretch of the imagination means we don’t have similar examples, though for some folks, Desire might reflect, well…desire.

It does pay to think over what you call yourself when you decide on a career as a performing artiste. When I do decide to make my own musical comeback, I am thinking of something along the lines of “ e Bear”… I am (apparently, and I have no idea where this comes from), somewhat unbearable. It would be fitting, I guess.