On A Global Mission With Cross-Cultural Musician, The Tropicosmician

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TheTropicosmician in his Hapa Nation t-shirt

This month’s featured Hip Hapa Homee is Ejiroghene Bryan “Jiro” Efevberha aka TheTropicosmician, a talented young musician and cross-cultural ambassador. Here’s his story:

Q: What was your upbringing like?

A: I was born in Warri, a small oil city located in the southern region of Nigeria. I’m the youngest of nine siblings of a middle-class family—which in Nigeria is similar to that in America. Specifically speaking, it means the parents can afford the cost of education for their children from elementary school until completion of University, a family that can afford beyond the basic standards of living. Hence, I wasn't born into a family that was lacking, but neither was I born into a rich one.

However, in my family, education was a right. But this cannot be said about many families since the size of the middle-class in Nigeria is relatively smaller than in the U.S. Growing up, in elementary school, we children were protected to and from school and transported in school buses. But I noticed a stark difference in the U.S. where the school bus system was a standard, unlike in Nigeria where children went to school through various means. It was more popular back home for parents to drive their children to school, or use taxicabs. But again, just like it is here, it depends on the economic class of the family. To throw more light onto this, the school bus system I had the privilege of enjoying was provided by a foreign company my dad worked for at the time.

TheTropicosmician as Outkast

Q: How difficult was it adjusting to life in America?

A: I came here in January of 2005 and met the cold winter of Philadelphia. Coming from a tropical country, it was my first time experiencing cold of a high magnitude. But I think I adjusted pretty well in terms of the weather. However, I found it difficult adjusting culturally--particularly in greetings. In Nigeria, to say ‘good morning’, ‘good afternoon’ and ‘good evening’ to strangers was the norm. But here, you just get a nod from those who are polite enough to acknowledge your presence. Others just say ‘hi’ or ‘hello’. Those are subtle differences because I later learned that people also use the aforementioned form of greetings here.

And, people dress rather casually here. I noticed that students tried to be impressive in their dress, but I met American students who wore their ‘sleep clothes’, or they would wear almost anything they could wear elsewhere. Back in Nigeria, every occasion had a form of dressing or standard of acceptability. This is true to some extent here, although not in higher learning institutions.

I also noticed a big difference in the way younger people treated their elders here. They spoke and acted like they were their age mates or any friend. That was not the case back in Nigeria. Elders were accorded respect. I’m only generalizing here, or speaking about the standard culture.

Abena

Q: When did you first play music?

A: I think of playing music in two different terms--virtual playing and actual playing. Hence, I have two answers. Virtually, I have been playing as early as age seven, or perhaps earlier. I always had an ear for music as early as I can remember, and I was always composing and humming something. In the actual sense, I started playing towards the later part of 2005. A friend of mine had a home recording studio and gave me music production software. So, I started teaching myself how to use it, creating the songs I had written before and bringing to life all my imaginings in sounds. From then on, I could not stop because I already had lots of songs in my archives. It seemed like perfect timing because, back in Nigeria, I did not have that access or, rather, the awareness of making music on a computer.

TheTropicosmician as Michael Jackson

Q: What inspires you to write a certain song?

A: Interesting question! People inspire me--people I interact with day to day. I have a thing for writing songs with people's actual names, especially when they have touched me in some way. I think I have about four songs with actual people's names as the title. Besides people, my experiences, my struggles, my various moments and emotions bring out the art of writing in me. I write while walking in the streets. I have this thing with motion. Well, it’s a family thing. In our family, we always find ourselves walking in circular motions while in the sitting area of our home. We would move in circles while conversing. When visitors came around, they would just watch us in amazement. They thought it was kind of strange. The reason I mentioned that is that I use this motion thing as well in my music. Whenever I'm moving, it means I'm thinking and, in thinking, I'm inspired--melodies just start coming. I remember writing this song “Go the Height”. I saw the inscription on a passerby's shirt while I walked past him. So you see, I’m also inspired by strangers in my environment. I’m inspired by the weather as well. I wrote “It's Getting Crazy Here” at a time when there were strong winds blowing. I started thinking about our climate and how things have changed a lot. That's just another example of how I get inspired. Sometimes, I just form a new song from the beats of another song that I did. “I See You” is an example of a derivation song. I write about my relationships with girls. Even in a relationship I could somewhat see the future and I could just write a break-up song. (My song “Let Go” is an example.) So, this thing really comes to me in different ways. Need I mention even while I'm half asleep, literally speaking? And also, most importantly, other renowned musicians I admire, they inspire me a lot, too. Michael Jackson, Sade, R. Kelly, Shaggy, Sean Paul and a lot of others, including rock artists like Nirvana. My taste for music is quite broad.

Q: How does your music cross cultures?

A: As a producer, my sounds are reflective of my cultural environment and that influences my creativity. This is why today you can find different elements of music in what I do. I love to work with Arabian strings, African percussions, tango elements, together with the 808 drum. I like to bring them together, and they all work together. I keep a worldview in the process of making music because these are really my experiences, learning about different countries, their cultures and their music. Listening to world radio. For example, I did a song about racial profiling in the black versus Hispanic communities, although it does not really carry that strong message, but a rather subtle one with a romantic concept. If I weren’t here in America, I wouldn’t have thought of something like that. So my indirect or direct surroundings influence the kind of music I make. I say indirect to mean my perceived experience of another country, although I’m not present there, could affect my style as well.

Q: Any future plans?

A: My future plans come in phases, because I like to think in short-term, mid-term and long-term plans. But for the purpose of this interview, I will focus on the short-term. I have several collaborations lined up. I love to collaborate because other artists bring out the best in me or, let me say, they take me to whole new levels of inspiration. I am looking to cross-promote and to build together. I think we have been too self-centered. We should let loose a little bit and appreciate that we are all talented and that we can make some good progress if we engage in healthy competition. Some Nigerian acts have shown interest in collaborating with me. And, I must say here that the music business back in my home country is huge. So, I think this is a great thing. I’m currently working on an EP of love songs to be titled “I Wanna Love You More” which is the title track. I’m also looking to revive the duo “Lion's Den” and making it a group, possibly adding a female singer. There is so much unfinished work that I would like to go back to, as well as new directions I’ll take regarding the styles of music I want to explore.

Thank you, Ejiro The Tropicosmician! Connect with Ejiro here: 

www.reverbnation.com/thetropicosmician

www.youtube.com/thetropicosmician

www.twitter.com/tropicosmician

www.facebook.com/tropicosmic

www.lionsdenmuzik.com

Here’s a shout-out to publisher Dorothelia Barnett and writer Natasha J. McEachin at Beautifully Inspired Women magazine for the wonderful profile of Your Hip Hapa and Watermelon Sushi last month. http://www.biwmagazine.com/

Hey, Hip Hapa Homeez, Your Hip Hapa knows you readers are a giving group, so please take a moment to check out this documentary about finding multiethnic bone marrow and cord blood donors. http://web.me.com/jeffchibastearns/Mixed_Match/Welcome.html

‘til we meet again, I am

Your Hip Hapa,

Yayoi

Visitors

I admit I'm a consummate hostess. Back in the day, my sister and I would entertain rooms full of folks in our tiny one-bedroom apartment near Seattle's Lake Union. Thinking back now, I wonder if our neighbors suspected us of dealing drugs or being prostitutes because of our many visitors--mostly men--who'd stop by for a drink (usually coffee or something stronger) and a chat. Sometimes, one of them would scoop us up for a couple of games at a nearby pool hall. Other times, we'd go check out a Bruce Lee or Blaxploitation flick. And, still other times, we'd cruise to Seward Park for a jam session with my sister playing her twelve-string guitar.

In any case, more than loving to entertain, my sister and I loved being entertained. Our friends ranged from a naive white guy from Florida named Paul, who also played guitar and would duet with my sister, to a brother named Donzell whose cousin Goat was often the butt of his jokes. Donzell drove a Brougham and would take us dancing at various nightclubs until we'd finally stop for breakfast at an all-night Chinese restaurant on Broadway. There was Femi from Nigeria, Allan from L.A., and Darryl from round the way--my sister's classmates from the University. Interestingly, none of these men were quote unquote boyfriends, but rather acted as substitutes for the brothers that we lacked. Of the ladies, I remember Mila, a Filipina whose children all had black fathers. My sister's friends, Linda and Tien, were Japanese American and Vietnamese, respectively, and also had black husbands. Although not that common in the 1970's, interracial coupling between Asian Americans and blacks did happen. During this time, Asians weren't acceptable for marriage by whites, and most of the Asians we knew were either with other Asians or with blacks.

Just sharing stories with our friends helped shape our views of the world back then. In those days, before the Internet and instant exchanges, my sister and I often met new people in public places and through other friends. Each one had a tale to tell, and that's how we learned. Today, I meet people through every method imaginable. But my friendships are still just as rich and rewarding as ever.

This weekend, while I stayed with my mother, two friends notified me that they'd be in town so I invited them over.

Albert, an educator originally from Ghana, was driving from Oregon to Washington on his way to fly to a seminar in Maine. Although we'd been friends for years, we'd never met face to face before. Unfortunately, Albert arrived just as the NHK taiga series, Atsuhime, began. As any of my regular readers know, I am totally addicted to this show. I could hardly peel my eyes away from the screen as I instructed Albert where to sit and hang his coat. With the dog frantically pawing his legs, and my mother firing questions at him about his personal life, it was all my guest could do to maintain. My eyes glued to the TV screen, I'd periodically turn to look over my shoulder at Albert and explain the scene at the Ooku with Atsuhime and her ladies-in-waiting during the countdown of the Satsuma overtaking Edo castle. My mom's husband, in his failed attempt to be sociable, commented on how homely the real Atsuhime was compared to the actress playing her. As we ate the square wontons filled with vegetables that my mother made, she needlessly explained to Albert that they contained no meat because of my vegan diet. Observing their efforts to communicate, I served as an interpreter throughout. My mother doesn't speak Twee and Albert speaks no Japanese although two of his cousins live in Japan where they both have Japanese wives.

Shortly after Albert left to continue his trip, Heisue arrived. This young student from Seoul currently attends school in Boston and has undertaken an intensive project about Korean warbrides. Upon entering their living room, she bowed towards my mother and her husband, and we were all charmed. Proclaiming herself to be "global", Heisue told me the reason she spoke English with an American accent was because of "Sesame Street". Sipping green tea, Heisue and I discussed the importance of her work. Some of the warbrides she interviewed had been abandoned by their American military husbands once they arrived stateside. Yet they survived. We talked about how life had been for their mixed-race children with the additional burden of not having their own fathers in their lives. And, I took Heisue on a journey from the time before I was born, to my mother's early childhood. Even though my stories helped Heisue piece together her project, I was the one who felt cleansed. The communication between Heisue and my mother was fairly clear and they each spoke a few words of the other's language. When my mother remembered a Korean song, she began singing it and Heisue joined in. I wish I would've had my camera as it was one of those moments in life never to be repeated. Heisue was stunned that my Japanese mother knew all the lyrics to this very traditional Korean love song, and so was I. Then, my mother trotted out a calendar she's had forever featuring Korean models on each page. Like the time last year when she broke out the homemade kimchee for a mixed-race Korean friend, my mother was seriously trying to connect. Maybe that's where my sister and I inherited our penchant for making and keeping friends.

Above is a photo of one of the very first visitors I can remember--a fellow soldier and friend of my dad's in Germany.

In friendship forever...

Your Hip Hapa,

Yayoi