“It’s here, no?” Etnika’s Andrew Alamango snaps his fingers three times. “Traditional music doesn’t have to be nostalgic – you go out, you hear things on the street and it’s there – you hear people talking on the market and a lot of it may be gibberish but it’s Maltese gibberish, it’s gibberish that singles out a county…”
Etnika are rehearsing for their latest event, ‘Karavan Petlor’ at a flat in Valley Road, Birkirkara, which usually houses flamenco dance lessons. Valley Road is tall and awkward. There’s more greenery than you’d usually expect from the island, but all it can do is peer over the edge of showrooms and petrol stations. It’s disheartening, really – you’re not sure what it’s supposed to be doing. Discordant and cramped, it exudes wasted potential and lack of vision, 24/7.
I follow the music to the appropriate room. Francesca ‘Cikka’ Grima regrettably informs me that a conventional chat with the band is kind of out of the question, they are just too busy preparing for the event, due to kick off next weekend at the Old Opera House. So I move into the rehearsal room and wait, hoping to fish some sound-bites in between songs and sucking in the band’s mood.
The band is as scattered as the equipment: instruments and guitar cases are strewn on the floor and Nietzsche quotes adorn the walls as motivation for the flamenco dancers-in-training that usually frequent the place (‘a day without dancing is a day wasted’…or something to that effect…appropriately Dionysian, in any case). The musicians are generally curly and tanned, but the band being such a large ensemble, you can’t generalize. There are the young, the older, the stocky and the skinny. The brass band looks more mature overall, more seasoned and less swarthy: the five members remain seated throughout as the rest hover around them. Two or three members are on standby as rehearsal goes on; sms-ing, smoking and indulging in some harmless, lazy teasing. The wall mirror makes them look even more spread out. They rehearse in sporadic fits at first. Things are tweaked, new solutions are found until the band gels and they jam with that unwavering confidence that is always a pleasure to witness firsthand – it’s raw and repetitive but it moves to a crescendo as a complete whole. But what does it actually sound like? There are definitely gipsy elements - the bands have been described, or have described themselves (it’s hard to tell the difference at times) as ‘gypsy-punks’. The sound is familiar because it evokes the hodge-podge that has now been placed under the umbrella of ‘world’ or ‘roots’ music.
Alison Galea, of Beangrowers fame, cools herself with one of those white Spanish fans while she sits and waits for her cue to sing. Once she gets up, I occupy her chair and notice that a plastic bag boasting three packs of Twistees hangs by my shoulder. This is automatically suspicious – when is the last time you noticed uneaten packets Twistees surviving for longer than five minutes? The snack is a Maltese staple – cheap and infectious, its tangy taste doesn’t allow you to cease chomping away until the very last one of them is gone, despite the inconveniently sticky, dusty remnants they shed. And yet here they are, waiting patiently…untouched and safe. Turns out they are props. Andrew, a founding member of Etnika and a guitarist for this particular event, reveals that amongst the songs on their new repertoire lies ‘Twistees Samba’.
The Etnika project was founded in 2000 as an initiative set on resuscitating endangered Maltese music traditions and instruments. Mercurial and widely-traveled, the group takes on several members and spreads its message in dynamic and novel ways, always doing their best to keep things fresh and relevant.
It seems as if the group is headed for a decisive re-vamp this time around. Not only will they incorporate Twistees, but the new songs will be geared towards more immediate and relevant subject matter. Hunting, immigration and other issues will be tackled. The titles are pretty self-explanatory: ‘Merill Bang-Bang’, ‘Klandestini Rock’…Andrej Vujicic, also a founding member who will be contributing bass drums and percussion, gives me some interesting insights on ‘Kollox Tal-Plastik’. “The song addresses a Maltese tendency to view anything plastic as being good. You know, covering your furniture in plastic, plastic cutlery and things like that. People come to Malta from overseas hoping to find an earthy, unadorned little paradise…but what they find is a population so eager to be perceived as ‘modern’ and ‘hi-tech’ that it compromises anything of its own.”
A Serbian national, Andrej is Cikka’s husband. Currently based in Seville, the couple revisit Malta each summer and their performances with Puerto Flamenco, as well as their involvement in Etnika, have made them important and popular figures in the local cultural scene. “Each time I come back,” Andrej says, growing more solemn, “I find another chunk of Maltese culture missing. But awareness is growing, people everywhere are more alert about environmental issues and so on. With our music this time around, we want to move away from the romantic, nostalgic pining for a purer time gone by and we want to look at things, even everyday things, that are relevant, telling and revealing of Maltese society…” Toning down on the ‘hippie’ elements, perhaps? “I don’t think we were ever ‘hippie’...” he tells me evenly, “but we’re certainly moving into a more contemporary, less tradition-based direction.”
Another motivating factor for this conversion is the fact that, today, everything everywhere mixes anyway. “I think it’s safe to say that, as a band, we have a ‘roots music’ sound,” says Andrew, far more of a motor-mouth than the calmly articulate Andrej, “but that doesn’t mean we want to simply be generic. The Maltese elements are still there.” Got it. It’s not about being slavish towards one thing or another, but about allowing yourself to mesh freely simply because you feel like it, without losing your voice.
Cikka finally joins in, tapping away with her red shoes and adorning the music with powerful visual accompaniment. Andrej suggests that his bass-drum might be making things a bit too busy, and adjustments are made. “The way I see Malta,” he tells me on my way out, “is that you can’t really make things last. You write something on the sand and the sea will wash if off just as quickly. Limestone is soft, you can’t build fortifications and cities, unlike countries that have the luxury of a mainland. So it’s this little rock that’s exposed to the elements, nature takes over. This can be a great challenge for an artist, but it’s also sobering – you stop taking things so seriously.”
So it’s back to Valley Road. Thinking of it as just a phase makes things easier.

The band will be playing at the Old Opera House Ruins, Valletta from August 10 – 12 at 9pm. Tickets at Lm6.00 (€13.98) can be purchased from Exotique, Agenda Bookshops, Newskiosk or online at www.maltaticket.com and purchased at Exotique and Agenda Bookshop outlets, as well as Bookends, Newskiosk and KSU Vodafone (on campus). www.myspace.com/etnikafe