Kani ka ʻōpala: music made from Rubbish

This was the opening song from my Peace Corps Thailand album (2008) and reintroduces my boba straw slide whistle (also heard prominently on track 12). The lyrics take the perspective of a once-true believer who is becoming disenchanted with the cause, its leaders, the organization, or some combination of the above.

Continuing with the main character’s disenchantment, the Prince Charmings and clear-cut fairy tale portraits of his youth start to crumble as the heroes he once celebrated turn out to have been the villains all along. Consumed by power and money, the loyal subjects are left in the cold. Instrument: teabox guitar and general drum kit (rice cooker lid, rice bag drum, etc).

Moving on to the perspective of non-enchanted passersby who always saw the abuser for what he obviously was, this narrator contrasts the gifts and the burdens that come from association with the powerful. The instrument featured here is the first I ever built with students in my capacity as university lecture: the one-string Canjo!

Back to the first person narrative as the main character processes the loss of black and white clarity, celebrated heroes who have proven themselves fallible, and a society with no patience for nuance and the time it takes to allow it. What does one do with past belief when things seem to be falling apart? The instrument is a soft 2-string fretless lute (thicker fishing line on rice bag frame inspired by the shamisen)

Home still holds the heart, even as one distances oneself from the people, and politics of it all. Place still resonates above human silliness and error. This song showcases a national tune-turned-hymn, a kinder way to acknowledge place-based ties in spite of uncomfortable pasts. Featured is a wind quartet of PCV pipes, bamboo, and sprinkler pipes.

This song is sung from the perspective of the uncaring leader who demands subservience while at the same time mocking his followers for their submission and deference. It’s clear he respects neither them nor their ideals. Also, he’s clearly phoning it in, doing the least amount of effort required (as evidenced by his sarcastic solo on a reed instrument at the outset). This song introduces my collaborative project with Marine Debris institutes in Hawai‘i that started with my Capitol Modern Exhibit. Here is an ukulele made from a buoy salvaged from the Papahānaumokuākea Marine Reserve.

This song was originally written for an artist residency application (not awarded, c’est la vie). Our character starts paying more attention to alternate ways of being, of imagining himself as a part of a reciprocal system rather than a zero sum game. To highlight this, “We & You” is vocalized from the perspective of an ecosystem inviting the character to join their song, to give, to receive gifts, to consider how actions impact the web. Musically the message is backed by a lush wall of string sounds produced by our very own ‘violele’ instrument.

After retreating for a while and listening to these new perspectives, our character returns with his own rendition of the message of “We & You,” more explicitly affirming his love for home and expanded sense of community (ocean, wind, mountains, skies) with this lullaby. Accompaniment includes a trio (cigar box ukulele, bamboo flute, and violele).

Our main character feels newly connected to everyone and everything, no longer alone. This song acts as his reverse pied piper parade back into society, a triumphant reentry accompanied by a junk version of instruments inspired by the northern Thai salaw-saw-sueng ensemble (plucked tin can lute, bowed teabox lute, bamboo flute, and a rice bag drum made with olympic rings for the frame)

Another celebration of home as place, seen through newly appreciative eyes attuned to the beauty and interconnectedness of all things here and now. This song attempts a full chamber orchestra (20+ tracks of bowed junk instruments).

Appreciating the whole doesn’t preclude appreciating the singular, nor the unknown. This song was written for a newborn niece who we didn’t know much about, other than that she spent most of her days singing…and that felt worth celebrating. Accompanied by our buoy ukulele and a cigar box violin ensemble.

Nature gives. This song goes all the way back to my college years (where I was largely inspired by Jeff Buckley’s haunting ethereal style) and was written after a VW bus road trip up the Pacific Coast Highway. After hours of slogging through 10-foot foggy visibility, we pulled over just as the winds cleared the skies like a theater curtain opening, revealing a meteor shower that lasted the rest of the night. It was magical. The instrument is a collection of punctured and mounted Goodwill ceramics, each possessing their own gong-chime pitch.

Rather than renouncing all things from the past, our character is reminded that things that nurtured us once can still have renewed and continuing value and purpose. Here is a zither created from an old piano bench whose fabric was worn and torn bare. Fitted with bike brake cables and moveable bridges (Hotwheels abandoned long ago), it now can sing a lullaby that connects and roots him and his children to place.

Our folk trio returns for another ode to place, memory, and connectivity. Maybe we will meet again and are all headed to the same source from which we came. What is affirmed in this song is the multiple paths taken, and that the people we share the journey with make it meaningful.

The world might be burning and full of Nero characters who seem not to be bothered with trying to save it. But we don’t have to tune out. We can still find community and work together to build a world full of kindness, compassion, and community. Thus endeth the album (featuring a Popsicle stick mbira and bamboo saxophone).