Zeeteah Massiah on Music, Performing and Life during 2020

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Zeeteah Massiah on Music, Performing and Life during 2020

Zeeteah Massiah is a Number One Billboard Dance Chart star who specialises in Reggae, Jazz and house music. Like many artists, the last year has provided many challenges for Zeeteah, but also a host of new opportunities and ventures that would have never otherwise have been possible. We asked her to tell us about her experiences over the last year whilst we count down to Jeeni's online JAM festival.

It’s been the craziest year ever, but we’ve made it through thirteen months in and out of lockdown. At the beginning of 2020, I unveiled a brand-new sound and a wicked new band, and I was full of high hopes for the year. I was excited and ready to go. And then Covid hit.

It took me three weeks into the first lockdown to come to terms with the fact that I wouldn’t be going on stage again for a long time. I was in a fog for weeks and then I thought: just because I can’t be on stage doesn’t mean I can’t make music. I suddenly had an impulse to record a new version of an old song that I’ve always loved – United We Stand by Brotherhood of Man. It seemed so right for that moment. Paul, my husband and musical partner, understood immediately the sound I was looking for, and we set to work in our studio.

Three of my favourite musicians played on the track – remotely, of course – and family and friends in London, Germany and the Caribbean filmed lovely cameos for the video. It was such fun to do, and it got a wonderful response. You can check it out on Jeeni.

And then a man called George Floyd died in Minnesota, and we were all plunged into a very different mood.

I didn’t realise how painful many of my feelings about race were, and how deeply they were buried, until I started telling Paul, with tears in my eyes, about growing up in London as a young black girl from Barbados. I was constantly made to feel a certain way simply because of the colour of my skin. Here we are in 2021 and, sadly, many things are still the same.

At one point I blurted out to Paul, “You don’t know how it feels to be Black”. He took those words and turned them into a song called You Don’t Know. We recorded it and made the video in July. It’s one of the most heartfelt things I’ve done, and I’ve been amazed by the incredible response it’s had and so grateful for the wonderful feedback.

I did manage to squeeze in three London gigs in the gaps between the lockdowns: a reggae gig in Chelsea, and jazz gigs in Hampstead and in the West End. Better than nothing – and in fact, they were all lovely events.

When it became clear that there weren’t going to be any more gigs, I decided to start doing live sessions at home with some of my favourite musicians and sharing them on YouTube. And so, the Massiah Sessions were born. We’ve released nine videos so far, in a variety of styles, and there are more to come.

I was also invited to add vocals to a new rock album by a dear friend in Germany. Thanks, Günther – it was a blast.

In February, I did a livestream with guitarist Marcin Bobkowski for a charity called Educ’aid Africa, run by Isa Bell, which is helping to provide music education to schools in Benin. A recent DNA test revealed that many of my ancestors were from Benin, and so the project had a special meaning for me. It was my first livestream, and I loved it.

I’m going to be doing another one on 10 April, and hopefully regularly after that – join us at zeestream.live if you can!

And so now here we are, approaching the end of what we pray will be the final lockdown. And soon I’ll be back on stage in front of a live audience doing what I love best. My first live gig of 2021 will be on Thursday 27 May at Crazy Coqs in London’s West End.

Maybe see you there?

In the meantime, I wish you all the best for what will, hopefully, end up being a much better year.

Zeeteah will also be performing in the JAM festival which is a collaboration between Jeeni, AmplifyX and MultiView Media and will be held at 12 noon Los Angeles time, 8pm London time on Saturday April 10th 2021. To find out more about the JAM Festival check out our events on Facebook. https://fb.me/e/1etPauFMV

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Once upon a time, I created a platform called jeeni.com which is where independent artists perform their music in front of new fans, and get rewarded for their efforts. On a Saturday night we ran a live global music festival featuring 18 acts from both sides of the Atlantic. The oldest performer was over 70, the youngest was under 10. They were brilliant, each in their own way. We broadcast over social media and websites. There were no adverts, there were no fakes, there was no hype. It didn't cost us a penny to run. Everyone had a ball. We are part of a revolutionary process that is killing a corrupt and rotting music industry which has held both audience and performer to ransom since the 1890s. So if you will indulge me, I'd like to tell you how, and why ... I'm an old hoarder, I hoard old music recordings, and when I say old I mean really old. Upstairs, in what was once a studio but has turned into an Irish Setter leisure lounge, there are several hundred wax cylinders from the 1890s. Each cylinder is a unique recording from an age before duplication was possible. If Miss Florrie Forde wanted to sell a hundred copies of Hold Your Hand Out You Naughty Boy to her adoring public, then she had to keep lubricated and trill the bloody thing into a brass horn a hundred times and record it onto wax in real time. But to me the beauty of these cylinders is not that each one is a unique recording, but that each one is mercifully short, rotating at 120 revolutions a minute and lasting a meagre two minutes, because that's all a wax cylinder can hold. And so the two minute pop single was born. At the start of the twentieth century discs replaced cylinders, but not a lot changed. I have another room full of shellac discs that spin at 78 revolutions a minute. When it came to pop singles from artists bringing joy to the world throughout the first half of the twentieth century, they had just under three minutes to do it in. And if they were any good, just under three minutes was plenty. I feel personally to blame for what happened next, because in the hour of my birth in 1948, the microgroove vinyl disc hit the market, spinning at what my Irish chums call dirty tree and a turd revolutions per minute. I have an entire wall of vinyl albums, with their glorious covers and sleeve notes. And yes, they are arranged in alphabetical order by artist and date-order of release. Their storage capacity is approximately twenty-five minutes a side, which is usually twenty-two minutes too long. And on the opposite wall is where all my CDs sulk, each one capable of storing seventy-four minutes of audio, and not one of them played since the turn of this century. Why? Because a hacker called SoloH went and ripped the source code of something called the Fraunhofer MP3 encoder and spread it all over the internet for free. Thanks to SoloH, I can not only digitise my entire collection of recorded music without any restrictions on playing time, I can access the entire library of everything that has ever been recorded, for ever. My phone weighs exactly the same as my 78rpm copy of Little Richard's single Tutti Frutti, which runs for two minutes 28 seconds of total perfection. My phone holds 21,417 tracks in MP3 format, some of them complete symphonies, which are pretty good, some of them prog-rock drum solos, as used by Viet Cong torturers to break the spirit of the enemy. My desktop hard drive and cloud-accounts contain too many tracks to keep track of. I declare that my motivation for amassing this ludicrous collection of music was that one day it would bring me comfort in my old age, when my body and brain become enfeebled and I feel the need to keep hold of past pleasures while dying. As it turns out, I started playing my collection early, during lockdown, and wished I was dead by the end of day three. The singles were great, but the albums were mostly insufferable. Which is when I realised that the music album is stone dead, and the nightmare of a lifetime of audio padding is finally over. Then the real truth hit me. The recorded music industry is dead too. Thanks to COVID19 there has been an explosion of new creativity. Everyone is now a record producer, anyone can run a broadcast music channel, and that's exactly what everyone and anyone seems to be doing, including me. The spongers and leeches and shysters have been exposed as completely unnecessary, as have most of the agents, publicists and managers. They are no longer able to milk performers in our new world of social distancing, because they have lost their power. It's the remote audience that now has the power, and this audience wants instant gratification, not a load of overhyped, overwrought, overlong, flimflam. Jeeni.com is my final project in a very long career. I'm giving my artists three minutes per track to nail it, because that's what my old hoard tells me is right. And I hope you agree that in order to shine, three minutes is all that anyone should ever need.

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