Conference Agenda

From 2019 through 2021, the Swedish public and an international group of jurors elected three consecutive Afro-Swedish artists with soul-pop songs to represent Sweden in the Eurovision Song Contest: “Too Late for Love” by John Lundvik; “Move” by The Mamas; and “Voices” by Tusse. These representations of Afro-Sweden in the globally-televised competition reflected the increasing popularity of gospel music in Sweden over the past few years, as well as a recognition and utilization of the Black American genres and their idioms as tools with which Afro-Swedes can express notions of Afro-diasporic belonging. However, these performances followed changes to Swedish legislature that eliminated mentions of race in the name of multiculturalism and colorblindness, which paradoxically led to upticks in racially-motivated violence and anti-migrant rhetoric throughout Sweden. I argue that through their performances of soul-pop songs in Eurovision, these artists declared their sociocultural citizenship as both Black and Swedish in ways that resisted acts and policies of white protectionism in Sweden and across Europe writ large. Through musical and lyrical analysis, fan reception, and artist interviews, I demonstrate how these three performances recontextualized Black American musical idioms from gospel and soul musics in ways that grant agency to Afro-Swedes.

Scholars have increasingly addressed the circulation and recontextualization of Black American musics throughout Europe and their resonances with Afro-diasporic worldmaking (Moore, 2022; Rollefson, 2017; Helbig, 2014), insofar as Afro-diasporic communities have increasingly turned toward aspects of Black American expressive culture as models for resistance and survival (Ellis, 2015; El-Tayeb, 2011). While existing literature on Eurovision has thoroughly addressed processes of nation-building and soft power in the Contest, scholars have seldom connected performances of racial identity through Black American genres in the Contest to broader discourses surrounding Afro-diaspora. These performances, for example, happened during the ongoing Afro-Swedish Renaissance (Skinner, 2022), wherein Afro-Swedes have been challenging Sweden’s assimilationist, colorblinding racial and anti-migrant politics through artistic practice. Ultimately, recognizing these musical performances as critiques of Swedish colorblindness destabilizes prevailing narratives about who gets to be Swedish and exemplifies Eurovision’s role as a worldmaking tool for members of Europe’s marginalized migrant and diasporic communities.

Throughout the 1980s, a small, yet thriving group of East German musicians sought to create their own Krautrock-inspired electronic sounds. Unfazed by the logistics of accomplishing this in the GDR – merely obtaining a synthesizer entailed breaking laws and spending thousands – artists like POND, Servi, Key, and Rainer Oleak produced several albums ranging in style from sweeping electronic soundscapes to bouncy proto-synthpop. While recent research on Krautrock overlooks these innovations in the GDR (Adelt 2013; Schütte 2016; Schütte 2022), the musicians who cultivated this style identified as a branch of Krautrock, inspired by, though distinct from, their Western counterparts. Equipment played a key role in forming this identity: hearing – and seeing – the impressive synthesizer displays of Western artists like Tangerine Dream and Klaus Schultze not only inspired these musicians to explore new sounds, but also informed their self-perception and legitimization as electronic artists.

Drawing on archival material, interviews, and private holdings, this paper explores the multifaceted role that synthesizers played in the cultivation of the electronic scene in the GDR. Seeing domestic instruments as inadequate, these musicians took significant risks to illegally acquire Western synthesizers like the Jupiter 6 and the Minimoog. In doing so, they could utilize the sounds they associated with the progenitors of this style. Instruments also played a role in the way these artists differentiated themselves from their Western counterparts, creating a musical identity that was unique in both the GDR and the global electronic scene. Many claimed to have a deeper, more technical understanding of their equipment than the Western artists with whom they interacted, treating this technical knowledge as a basis for legitimacy, and a way to establish themselves as a separate musical scene.

Building on studies assessing the significance of gear to identity-building in popular music scenes (Herbst/Menze 2023; Broess 2023) and the complex art world of East German popular music (Hayton 2022; Zaddach 2022), this paper argues that synthesizers played a crucial role in the ways these artists self-identified, developed their sounds, and situated themselves both within the East German musical community and in the international electronic music scene.

Following the annexation of Austria in 1938, Hermann Leopoldi, a Jewish entertainer, composer of popular music, and Volkssänger, faced the disruption of his career in Vienna. Despite enduring imprisonment in the Buchenwald concentration camp, Leopoldi managed to flee to the United States in 1939, where he resumed his performances on the cabaret circuit of New York. Initially catering to German-speaking audiences in local cafes, Leopoldi swiftly broadened his reach to include English-speaking patrons by translating and adapting his Viennese repertoire to suit the unfamiliar American cultural milieu. Among his adaptations was the transformation of his 1937 drinking anthem "I bin a stiller Zecher" into "I'm just a quiet drinker" by 1943.

Through the rendition of “I bin a stiller Zecher,” Leopoldi showcased his adeptness at acclimatizing to new environments and audiences while retaining his Austrian identity. Beyond merely linguistic translation, the alteration in lyrics and performance style—presenting the protagonist as a more moderate drinker—reflected not only the shift in Leopoldi's surroundings but also the distinct realities of life in the United States. References to Scotch, an uncommon drink in Austria, in the American iteration of the song, along with the incorporation of local slang, exemplify Leopoldi's immersion into the vernacular and cultural nuances of New York. In essence, "I'm just a quiet drinker" served as more than a musical translation; it functioned as a conduit for (formerly) German-speaking communities in New York to reconnect with their heritage, fostering sentiments of nostalgia, security, and camaraderie amidst the tumultuous backdrop of wartime and post-war America. Through this adaptation, Leopoldi facilitated a bridge between the Old World and the New, encapsulating the essence of intercultural communication.