Jay Lieasi’s take on PNG Music and the road ahead

Me and US based Hip Hop RnB artist Jay Lieasi formerly known as Prote-J 

By FIDELIS SUKINA

With the expanding technology, music streaming applications, and other latest techniques of sharing    free music what can Papua New Guinean artists do to protect their brand of music.

Jay Lieasi formally known as Prote-J is making a living from music, and has the support of his fans back home in the States and here in PNG; I had the opportunity to be indulged on the latest branding and marketing techniques that could help PNG artists market themselves. 

He gave some innovative ways of marketing PNG music, he said most artist thought of music as a hobby but there was more to it even being a way to improve your life.

“We find that a lot of artist take music as a hobby progressing to just a certain point, but if they take it serious it’s a way to make a living a way to get your dreams up a way to travel, a way to open up a lot of doors”

He added that being a musician was not necessary playing an instrument and singing but has more to do with business and requires great effort to research the market.

“People perceive it that if you can play an instrument or if you can sing you’re a musician but to be successful in a music business, it’s literarily 90% business and 10% music, understanding that and spending more time understanding the back end of music is important”

Lieasi said branding and stepping up to improve music was something only a few artists in PNG were doing.

“Just brand yourself market yourself properly, understanding how to target people who will respond to your music, how to best reach them all these little things is key in everyone understanding and taking themselves serious about being an artist and elevating themselves to a whole new level”

 “When it comes to the sound quality, the look the brand the feel, every aspect of the performance small little details that require a little extra effort, only a few artists are doing it”

“But large majority of artists are yet to really grasp that concept of viewing yourself as a business as a brand that is one way I want to impact the industry and help it grow, I’m just really excited, try to open up more doors more opportunities  and do more to my community”

He added that the music industry was getting crowded with everyone trying to make their name, but the new era of music is all about being creative and finding ways to have your own style.

“Music industry is crowded everybody wants to make their name it’s not the same, record labels are nonexistent, it’s all about independence, with the digital age you can reach fans directly, before you needed an article or an advert, It’s all about the artist opening up to the people so that they can get a deeper connection with you, in the past you needed a newspaper article or a magazine to have your story told now you just post it on Face Book and social media and all your friends have it instantly, these days people look at your personality a lot deeper what you like to do for fun, those things are factors on whether or not someone likes your music these days”

He added that Piracy was a big in PNG but an artist has to see it as a way forward and work around the problem

“People are not going to stop doing what they’re doing, it’s something that they are used to, and it’s all about convenience people want to save money and get what they want to get, you either go against it or embrace the reality and find creative ways, different ways to make an income”

“It all comes back to being a business, ok you didn’t get paid each time they got your music but now you have all these fans who love your music and listen to it every day what can you do with that”

“you can leverage it by doing an event , you can create merchandise, sell them your T-shirts, your hats your clothes things that represent your brand, it’s all about understanding that you own your trademarks, your name seeing the value in that, and monetizing it that way”

“Anywhere in the world and in the states the majority of their sales doesn’t come from album sales it’s the least way they make money, they make money through touring merchandising, through film, there are companies who want to make a commercial they need music and all the others, as time and technology changes artists will realize that and start to adapt”

Lieasi said selling music the old fashion way was something short lived and people need to think long term visions that’s how artists can make real money that’s not how they can sustain their music career by building their brand.

He had this final situation of building a sustainable income of music which he said was a sure way of understanding the sustainability of a music career.

“1000 people follow you and they spend K10 on you and in a year they spend K100 each that’s an annual income thinking that way that I am not out to please anybody, I am out to make the music I want to create and that resonates to the people I know support me and are following me and want to come to an event to buy merchandise to support my brand my logo what I stand for as a person in the community everything comes back to individuality and understanding the music business and positioning yourself to be in the business for the long run”

Our dreaded Uni Lives

Caption: Me really Hungry for Chicken at Uni

By FIDELIS SUKINA

It was a dull day at the University and we all knew we had it coming, another day of tinned fish and rice.

As we walked pass the student mess, we could see the dreaded Shipping container that had all the tinned catch of the day.

“Seriously dude tinned fish again someone please end my misery” I shouted, and we all laughed handing out Hi five’s and walking past the mess.

The low cost dinning, was nothing like we imagined it would be at Uni, students started losing their nice chubby figures from home.

“Guys look at Nelson he looks like he went for liposuction surgery” we laughed out loud 

Some of us even had to tie plastic around our trousers to keep them from hitting our ankles,

“Dude buy a belt you look like a marginalized street rat” we could not stop making fun of ourselves

“Look Nancy lost her fun bags looks like they are dropping” we laughed till we had a stitch.  

It was like a success story for some obesity camp, where even the fat had lost weight, through no 

exercise but just eating three square meals a day.

 “This life is joke I’m so skinny I look like Cat Williams” Ian Paul said as we sat around the dorm area smoking and chewing betel nut

It was like facing the inevitable every time you stepped in line with the rest of the country’s so called elites, you knew constipation and hunger would go hand in hand for the next two days or so.

But apart from the rancid smell of the grease trap and the occasional container rat, we survived.

We had fun and Rugby Union was the bomb, the brotherhood and comradely, was too good.

“Oi guys time for training, let’s go” and just like that every idiot in the room playing Rugby on my laptop would run out with rugby boots in hand and we’d walk across to the field for a game of touch footy.

That was the routine; mornings we had classes, in the afternoons we had training, and after that we met up with the gang and had the worst dinner of our lives.

On Saturday we played our hearts out and on a Sunday we would just laze around the room chilling, looking for ways to get some snacks.

“That’s it I’m calling my mum to send me money” Smith Young said “Yes yah woo hoo that’s it lets go” everyone in the room shouted.

So it was me, Ian Paul and Smith young who walked over to the ATM machine to get some money which his mum had sent earlier on.

As soon as we had the money a hoard of friend s came around like flies buzzing around a dead beached whale.

“Guys Guys! Not much just a coke and some biscuits” Smith said eyeing me, giving me the signal for the oncoming hoard.

“Shit dude lets ditch this place” I said “But where’s Ian Paul?”

The dude was once again killing time chatting to this senior, so I had to do something

“Dude you got a better chance with a dead moose than her” I told him and we all burst out laughing, walking down to the dorm.

 As soon as we opened the room door it was like a concentration camp skinny shirt less dudes, playing computer games puffing on roll cigarettes, using the coffee cup for an ash tray.

It was like manna from heaven, a cold sip of a coke and a taste of biscuit kept us going till we met our faith at the dinner table.

“Dude lets go for dinner I’m starving” Ian shouted, and just like a band of depleted miners we slackly, made our way to the mass

Along the way we would shake hands with everyone that passed us and even the occasional short skits poking fun at each other.

“Guys its Chicken!” I could smell it, “Seriously man” the guys replied,

After I peeped into the mess hall, I could see the hunger stricken faces munching on a drum stick,

I could taste the moist succulent chicken, but like any day chicken was on the menu the line stretched so far you would be lucky to eat if you came early.

“ Guys please someone pray, Ian pray for a miracle so we can eat come chicken I’m dying” I said jokingly, but the boys didn't respond it was now ten minutes into the long wait and at the second glance it was tin fish again chicken had run out.

You could see the faces, and hear the grumbling and murmuring; just like that we were so close yet so far away.

The boy with a sad morning

Caption: A small boy in school

By FIDELIS SUKINA

One day there was a small boy walking along the road toward his school, he looked tiered and lazy dragging his bag on the footpath.

“Hey boy” a voice came from behind him, “who me” replied the small boy as he slowly turned, “yes you, I want to talk to you” it was John, a family friend.

“Uncle John” the small boy shouted as he skipped merely towards him,

“My boy Richard, how are you” he said as they hugged in excitement, “Why the gloomy face and the lazy stroll” John said as he looked at the sad boys face.

“I’m hungry and there’s no food in the house” Richard said as he shed a small tear, looking down at the foot path.

It was hard living in the city; one thing led to another and things got worse, the family had fallen into debt, and they owed a lot to loan sharks around the city.

John knew Richards’s dad had fallen on hard times but, he didn’t think it was this worse,

“I’m sorry my boy, here is a K20 get something for yourself” John said as he gave him two K10 notes

“I can’t get this uncle I am not supposed to get money, dad might get mad” he said as he reluctantly reached for the money

“Don’t worry my boy it’s our little secret, now go on than off to school”

That afternoon when Richard went back home he had a grin on his face, and some food in a small plastic bag.

His mother saw the bag and was curious as to how he had attained the food within the plastic bag,

“Richie my goodness how on earth did you get that plastic of food?” his mum said with a startled look

“Mummy its some rice and tinned fish for us for dinner” he said with caution

“Where did you get it from” she asked Richie “I saved the money myself” he said with heist,

But mum knew he couldn't have saved the money because he always carried lunch with him, and he always walked to school.

“Now boy don’t you lie to your mother” she said to him with a strong tone.

But Richard had made a pact with his uncle John, but he could not lie to his mother as well, and besides he had food for dinner, his mother would be proud.

“I got it from Uncle John” he said with a smile “my goodness” his mother said in bafflement.

She was concerned about what young Richie had told to Johnny.

“What did you tell him?” she asked again “please son tell me before your father comes home and sees the food” she said walking around cluttered

“But why mummy, are you not happy for the food?” he said 

“It’s not that son” she told him patting his head “It’s just that your father doesn't like people to think we are poor” she tried to explain

But Richie was not convinced, instead his confusion grew worse, not knowing what to do or say he feared his father might give him a smacking.

Later his dad arrived and told him to come “Richie where are you?” he shouted “I got something for you son”

Richie hesitantly walked toward his father and to his surprise it was a new bicycle.

His dad had secured a job and got an advance to family’s debt, there prayers were answered.

It was a very happy night for the family and as they sat and ate dinner Richie forgot all about the plastic of rice and tinned fish.

 

Captured but made for Freedom

Caption; Some Pacific Island slaves 

By FIDELIS SUKINA

Having been tricked in to a job offer by two young seemingly innovative Entrepreneurs Sylvester woke up in a dark room in chains.

He sat down in the corner lost and afraid trying to recall what had happened the previous night.

He was a free man like any other person born in to this world, but he couldn’t prove his innocence he had left everything at home before stepping out and meeting his fate, it was not by chance that he had fallen into this dastardly deed. It had all been planned out, being invited to dinner getting drunk and ending up in chains, a similar story to many others.

He begged for help, for justice, but like property he had been sold to the highest bidder.

He thought of his wife and children, and cried the loudest of cries screeching, but to no avail,

“Help me, Help me!” he screamed but every scream got him a lash on his back  

For a young black man to be sold into slavery was not unusual, even when laws prevented it, those were dark days for natives.

He never thought he would be taken from his own land and kept in darkness to be taken away to work the plantations in fields yonder.

“Please I am free man, I have a wife and two kids” Sylvester cried “I need to see them take me back to my home land” he wept in bitter dispute 

“Shut up you stupid idiot your nothing but a slave sold by your people” the slavers shouted at him

What a sad situation for a man born into the world raised by a loving family and having one of his own, only to be stripped away by colonial imperialist.

 Thrown into this new world he had to strategize, he and his other captured countrymen were smuggled into a small boat; they had nothing encouraging to say to each other but the simple advice of survival.

  “Never speak of who you were, never fight for justice you will be killed” said one of the captives

“Putting my head down, forgetting who I was, how can survive? I want to live” Sylvester replied with his head down

But not all the captives had given up, one of them Josiah, a hard man who never bowed down to the introduced authority, had a plan

“I suggest we take down these devil forces, a mutiny on this vessel” Josiah suggested

 “That’s impossible these people are merciless, they’d strike you down with no second conscious” Sylvester replied

The plan was quite concrete but most of the men feared death, they rather slave and hatch a plan during their exploitation than rush into what most saw as a 90% chance of failure.

It was really hard to convince the masses, they had been conditioned to submit to the master, fear was a way they exerted their authority to get their capitalist endeavors realized.

But it was now or never the thought of family and the sweet taste of freedom was just a mutiny away.

As they sat and continued to bask in fear and self-pity, Sylvester saw the perfect opportunity; he saw the men needed a leader to take them through.

“I don’t know what to do, but I have to do something” Sylvester whispered to Josiah “I see it’s now or never”

“What are you going to do?” a cautious Josiah replied

“Just wait and see” said Sylvester as he crept toward the sleeping guard.

Before the guard could wake up properly Sylvester struck him with a piece of timber, as the guard screamed, everything just went into action as if they had it all planned out exactly in uniformity.

The captives were never tied up or chained when thrown into the bottom deck, this proved an underestimate.

The renewed freedom fighters stormed the upper deck, meeting a formidable arson of wary slave traders.

The first shot was fired into the chest off a captive, everyone receded, but Sylvester forged ahead as if he was a gladiator fighting for his freedom, it was inspiring, he managed to bring together a band of broken down captives and together they got back their freedom.

They cried tears of joy and of sadness for their fallen brothers who helped them win their freedom, and as they sailed back to their motherland they threw overboard their dead brethren, and said a silent prayer.

They did not know their names or where they came from but they cherished their comradely, knowing their sacrifice would not go in vain.

Is it my fault?

By FIDELIS SUKINA

Shall I wait for my fate?

Shall I wait and wait,

Or might as well drop dead and die,

Bring me your hate, your ignorant state,

Bring your liquor induced insults,

I just take it mate, sticks and stones brah!

Aint breaking my bones,

Spare me the talk that sad self-pity of yours,

Quit stalking me you drunk insubordination,

Take leave you smelly rat, take a bath for heaven’s sake jump in the lake,

I could beat the shit out of you, but hey you’re groggy, and ill fated,

A man going nowhere fast, you’re running a losing race captain of a sinking ship,

But I never helped you I just watched you day in day out; kill yourself with your addiction  

Forgive me but you don’t deserve my tears on your coffin, I shall weep each day from this day forth,

My blood my friend I have failed you.