Emmanuel Jal - Warchild

Genre hip hop Publisher Sonic 360 External Links Emmanuel Jal's Website Emmanuel Jal MySpace Page

To many Emmanuel Jal is the new kid on the block, another faceless name in the Hip Hop section of the record store. Emmanuel Jal is more than that. He is the phoenix that has risen from the ashes of a money, bitches and bling obsessed Hip Hop culture that has made the struggles of ghetto living cheap and easy. Emmanuel Jal has said “no more” to the commoditization of suffering and his music has evolved from a need for personal growth and a desire to raise awareness. Born in war torn Sudan, this twenty-something year old musician draws upon his experiences as a Warchild.

To political visionaries, like Nelson Mandela, he is a welcome guest and a devoted activist. It’s easy to be put off by such titles as “Vagina,” “No Bling” and “Skirt Too Short.” It’s easy to dismiss the album, without back story or by the cover of the CD and the tracklisting, as mindless drivel along the lines of Who Is Mike Jones? Please don’t. Emmanuel Jal blends classic African rhythms with a strong political message about morality, the state of Africa and his childhood in the SPLA.

“Baaki Wara” combines with traditional African beats and singing with dancehall synthesizer while he speaks of the current war for his soul that he’s fighting while temptations of his extravagant present (compared to how he grew up) combat his guilt and responsibility to not just his fellow Christian Sudanese, but his fellow Africans and fellow man. “I’m in another war / this time / it’s my soul that I’m fighting for / my name is Emmanuel / I’m supposed to be doing well / singing’s fun, that’s what I felt / I’m running out of strength like a phone cell.” As alluded to in the title, “Baaki Wara,” Emmanuel not only masters this song in English but one or more of the other eight languages he learned while studying/training in Ethiopia at the age of seven.

“No Bling” is the only song on the album that could have what could be called a "hook" or even be construed as a dance song. Hopefully the mention of representing “the King of Kings” will deter any ill-advised DJ from ruining this track with a remix. The track opens with a comical, yet disturbing, illustration of a record mogul addressing Emmanuel as a piece of property that he flew in from Africa that can be bought with an entourage, “some bitches,” “some hos, you know plenty of drinks, some bling,” which introduces the hook of “No hos, no bitches, no bling, I don’t need none of those things / It’s only the love that I bring / representing the King of Kings / No hos, no bitches, no bling, I don’t need none of those things / I don’t need none of those things, to sell a lot of records like Sting.” It’s no mistake that the lyrics damning the homogenization of Hip Hop music are rapped over handclaps, gospel interludes and “yups” that are frequently employed by the McDonald’s of Rap, Kanye West (before you get angry Kanye fans, that’s how he described himself not too long ago).

Before this week, I had never heard of Emmanuel Jal, I don’t disguise my ignorance and I can't claim to have done this album justice with this review. My confession is that before this week, I’ve picked up and put down a long way gone in as much time as it took me to write this sentence. I’ve avoided anything but the briefest coverage of the Darfur conflict and have indulged in the most selfish of pursuits. With my first listen of Warchild I’ve begun to understand what even American students across the country felt so passionately about two years ago when they marched on Washington and realize that I’ve lived a ridiculously sheltered and spoiled existence built upon the hard work and suffering of others. I began to cry when I heard the ancient and yearning instrumentals met with lyrics of torment that can only prove to his audience that we know nothing about Emmanuel Jal or about being a Warchild.