SEARCHING FOR PURPOSE IN THE TIMES OF A PANDEMIC

Encounter

Yinka Olatunbosun

Akintunde Blazee, otherwise known as Captain Blazee, is a strong member of the Freedom Park family – a growing cultural community on Lagos Island. As the Executive Creative Director, Conscious Vibes Africa, Blazee has been a committed artist to consciousness music, championing the reggae revival movement with the monthly series of reggae music concert at the former colonial prison yard. The concert series, Conscious Vibes had paraded some of the finest reggae musicians in Africa such as Dr. King Cobra, Marimba, Benzman and, of course, the late Ras Kimono.

Although he is best known for his music, Captain Blazee also boasts of insanely fascinating pieces in his eclectic collection of textile art and designs. Called TaiDaiAfrica, the textile art brand name is afro-styled after tie-and-dye. While walking through the display of his collection at the Freedom Park, anyone would be enamoured by the varied expressions of artistry from one of the uncelebrated artists in the music scene.

Within the few minutes he spared for the conversation, he revealed that he had a strong music ancestry that was only known to him about a year ago. The musician who hailed from Ondo made a shuddering discovery that was both emotional and expository.

“I just discovered my biological father in 2020,” he began, reaching out to grab a chair that was within arm’s reach. “I have always seen it in the movies, you know, like one of those stories. I asked my mother who Ibidapo Akinbobola was. Anyway, I found out that it was my father and he never had any other child. It was a long story. I discovered him and some weeks later, he died. It is a pity that we couldn’t see twice before he died. I saw him only once.”

His pleasant smile seemed to have perfectly masked the underlying emotions. His father was a great musician, who had performed alongside legendary juju musicians such as King Sunny Ade and Sir Shina Peters.

“I have been doing music for over 25 years and I didn’t know I had a strong musical ancestry,” he explained. “That alone is an inspiration to me. I have a family now- my wife, a son and two daughters. My dad was estranged. No one was with him for many years till his death. He took to drugs but his family members tried to help him.”

The mixed feelings beneath that secrecy that could have unlocked his history could not be hidden this time. But there is no doubt that he was gratified to have known the truth about his ancestry before his father died.

“The house my father lived in was almost collapsing and no one could live with him,” he resumed. “He was leaving there until I discovered him. He was a very brilliant guitarist. I also play guitar and I never learnt to play it from anyone. I also learnt that my grandfather was a carpenter who made musical instrument for Anglican church. I did not know all these until recently because my mother hid those from me.”

There is only one probable reason for that: a need to protect her son. While Blazee’s mother could shield him from his father, she couldn’t take away the musical blood flowing in his veins.

“I have been recording songs for more than 18 years. I have done more than 50 songs both released and unreleased. I lived in Ibadan for about seven years. The family relocated to Ondo but I left Ondo and returned to Ibadan and from there, I came to Lagos. My father died just a few weeks after we met.”

He didn’t start his music career with reggae. He was at first a studio rat, composing lyrics, hanging around musicians while learning to play instruments. His prolificacy with songwriting was a problem for his producer.

“When I started writing, my producer would tell me to cut a song into three tracks. I could have three to five pages written for a song because I had so much to say. And I love to write.”

And that was how he found his voice in reggae music, a genre that promotes emancipation of the human spirit. Drawing influences from the Jamaican reggae musician, Peter Tosh and the South African reggae icon, Lucky Dube, his music became a reflection of his conscious persona.

“Reggae used to be number one in the 80s. Floating Buka was the gathering of reggae community on the island,” he recounted.

Floating Buka was a club in a ship along Marina and a cultural signpost for many reggae artists of the period.

“We used to see Ras Kimono – who was said to be a DJ at first. But the system got polluted and could not stand the message of reggae music. Now, people don’t want too much message. They just want to dance. But then if you call a reggae fest in Lagos today, you would be shocked at the caliber of people that would show up especially when you play the kind of song that they can sing along with. Most of the time when I perform, I do covers from Bob Marley, Ras Kimono and the likes but along the line I was losing out on my own tune. I was not sending my own messages out there. I believe that reggae music will come up again because no system lasts forever.”

His recent songs include “Life of A Showman” as well as a collaborative track with rapper and former member of Remedies, a pioneering Afropop group in Nigeria, Eedris Abdulkareem titled “Too Long”. The song references socio-realities in Nigeria such as corruption, national debt, impunity. It was released on the 60th Independence Day for Nigeria. He joined the community of artists to protest during the EndSARS movement against police brutality and bad governance.

When the pandemic struck, he began to rethink his music career. Live music venues had been closed indefinitely and even when they were reopened, low turnout of audience was rife.

“Initially, I didn’t make textile art a preoccupation until Covid-19 came on board. Every man must survive,” he said.

His TaiDaiAfrica brand has deals on everyday wears and accessories including laptop bags and footwear.