[Karayib Focus] Arnaud Dolmen and his “Tonbé Lévé” album

If you follow me on Twitter (@ladyinsaeng), you know that I've already seen Arnaud Dolmen twice in concert within three months. Contrary to the love-rejection I had for Gage's music for a long time, I loved Arnaud Dolmen's music right away. Ready for a new trip down memory lane?

Fall/Winter 2017. I see tweets about his debut album pop up sporadically on my Twitter TL. My thinking doesn't go beyond "what's with the Bobby Brown haircut? The guy wears mikas. MIKAS? Next!". And then I end up listening to the interview given to the Girlykréyol webzine. I had the opportunity to publish on this site so I listened more by solidarity than by curiosity. In all honesty, I almost clicked on the red cross a few times, but as the catchphrase still appealed to me, I want to know more. His explanation of why he called his album "Tonbé Lévé" is that West Indian philosophy of life that I've only understood for the past two years... But it's when he describes his ka drum that I'm really intrigued. What does this sound like?

March 2018. I finally order the album that's been sitting in my Amazon cart for two months. Why did I wait so long?

Objectively speaking: I’m on a tight budget and I still wasn't sure I wanted to bet on an artist I absolutely did NOT know but who seemed to be a hit. You know that even though I’m all for mainstream culture legitimacy, I am generally in the minority.

Subjectively speaking: I've been mad at myself for years for giving up on playing the piano but I’ve never admitted it to myself. The drums being the instrument I had always dreamed of playing after the piano, the "buy the album” pro list finally overcomes the cons list. I listen to the mp3 version on a Sunday afternoon, my weekly musical relaxation moment. As the tracks go on, I am more and more overwhelmed.

Too many feelings. With the album on repeat that day, I let go of the regrets that I’ve been repressing for the past fifteen years, especially the one about the piano. I had convinced myself that it didn't hurt, but listening to the album, I realize that I’m wrong.

2006/2007 to 2015: I’m in college in Paris. I struggle standing up for myself in this society with materialistic codes that I don't understand. I can't brag about having visited this or that country (the French concept of the holiday still leaves me puzzled), nor about going skiing every year, but sneaking into a conversation that I have ten years of intensive piano practice under my belt is one of my few weapons to get 1% of the respect I want. Seriously, the surprise and disbelief every time I say it in the middle of a conversation... It feels like I’m slapping the person I’m talking to.

Back to that afternoon in March 2018 when I listen to "Tonbé Lévé." I like all the tracks, but I have a preference for the instrumental tracks that allow you to feel the melodies without the benefit of the vocal filter. My three favorites are:

♥ "Tét Kolé." I admit that my love for the saxophone, aka the sexiest instrument in my eyes, MIGHT be influencing my judgment, but there’s so much tenderness and sweetness in this melody. I just want to curl up in my comforter and let myself be lulled to sleep. I don't know when or how but this sound will have to appear in the soundtrack of one of my fictions. Even if it's thirty years from now.

♥ "Tou sèl mè...". This is the sound that best reflects the balance between the energies of the different musical genres that influence Arnaud Dolmen's music. There are a lot of changes in melodies, rhythm but the whole thing remains harmonious.

♥ "Karubé" is the track with the most mainstream contemporary jazzy Caribbean sound. There’s so much elegance and pride in the melody. If I had to choose one track to introduce Arnaud Dolmen to people who have no Caribbean sensibilities, I would suggest this one.

I chose these three tracks as my favorites because they made me see happy memories that I had completely forgotten. Sitting down in the shade of a flamboyant tree on a tree stump bench and savoring the trade winds against my skin. Or the crunch of flip-flops on the stone path that connects the houses scattered on our family land. The animated discussions of the uncles during a game of dominoes in the setting sunlight. The krik krak of the ice cream maker that an older cousin turns while the little ones wait impatiently, cup in hand. The radio playing boleros while everyone naps after Sunday lunch. Sitting on the cool veranda tiles and enjoying guinep/mangoes/malaka apples/coconut meat (your choice).

When I quit playing the piano, I had been playing exclusively jazz for two/three years after playing classical music since I was 8. The last piece I studied was "Take 5". My memory is a little faulty, but I think my teacher told me that once I’d master this piece, I’d be ready to start learning how to create new arrangements and to play around with Caribbean sounds. Maybe I would finally have found that touch of madness, that carefree spirit that I’ve always been accused of lacking? This is something that struck me when I saw Arnaud Dolmen play live for the first time. Some musicians look like they are suffering when they play their music, but he just looks happy. Happiness in its simplest and purest expression. Honestly, I admired and envied the confidence he had in the way he affirmed who he was.

My search for a connection to my Caribbeaness might have been less violent if I had continued playing the piano... Fifteen years later, my identity quest continues. "Tonbé Lévé" arrived in my life with perfect timing. Since I've been listening to this album, I no longer feel guilty about not playing the piano. I have made peace with that part of my child/teenhood. What's done is done. However, if the urge to return to music one day arises, I’ll welcome it with open arms.


Ndlr: this article was published for the first time in French on June 10th 2018 on myinsaeng.com.