FEATURE:

Brother Noland

Interview by Michael Egan

At the most fundamental level, Noland believes, music was ‘deep’ in his family’s character, but always with a socio-political edge. ‘It was how we fought back, channeled our feelings.’ His music and
his Hawaiian identity were always connected.

I couldn’t resist it when we met. ‘How many times a day do people greet you with Hi, Hello?’ I asked, mimicking in a high-pitched voice his smash-hit ‘Coconut Girl.’

Brother Noland laughed. ‘Too many times!’ He’s a striking presence with his square-set figure, flowing white locks, and quick laugh. A typical island blend of Hawaiian-Chinese-Filipino, Noland Conjugacion radiates good will and the shaka spirit. You can’t help liking him—he obviously enjoys people and it’s hard not to respond in kind.

Born and raised in Kalihi-Palama, one of Hawaii’s less privileged neighborhoods, Noland quickly became a well-known figure on the local music scene. He displayed his musical gifts early, became popular at parties and functions, and soon turned pro. Today Noland is universally credited with having invented the popular ‘Jawaiian’ sound, a cross between Jamaican reggae and the island tradition.

At the same time his music is intensely patriotic, in the pro-Sovereignty sense. He jokes about his name, but with a political edge: No-Land. According to the Honolulu Advertiser, ‘his music, poetry and vision connect to the ‘aina…a synthesis is played out with exciting surges of emotion.’

Like many of his generation, his parents divorced early. He was in second grade at Ka’ahumanu Elementary and he was quickly ‘hanai’ (Hawaiian-style adoption), living alternately with his grandmother in Makaha, in Honolulu with his Mom, and with the Daniels family in Waimea on the Big Island. Later, he graduated from The Kamehehameha Schools. ‘I think that being raised in these different ways helped shaped my life and melded my character, music, outdoor skills and aloha spirit,’ he says, recalling how impressed he was at the differences in privilege between his childhood upbringing and the vast resources at Kamehameha.

He came from a musical background: ‘everyone in my family played music; we’re all musicians and watermen, all ocean people. That’s the Hawaiian style. You go fishing, surfing, then afterwards you eat and play music!’

Noland first picked up a ukulele when he was five years old and learned quickly. The singing came later, though he never played in the Kamehameha orchestra or band. ‘I was too rascal,’ he laughs. ‘They couldn’t tie me down. Let’s say I wasn’t so much a risk-taker as a risk-technician—I always got away with it. Critical thinking ahead of time!’

Yet Kamehameha encouraged his music. ‘You’re always around music there,’ he says. ‘Song Contest and all that.’ During his study periods he’d hurry to the library and, thanks to a librarian who bent the rules for him, listen in a backroom to old phonograph records. Inspired, he even took a classical guitar class. ‘I didn’t learn much about classical music but I learned a lot about the guitar.’ Later he spent two-and-half years studying music at UH but left before completing his degree. ‘I’d learned everything I needed to learn to get started,’ he says. He was certain of his direction at this point and wanted to get going on his life’s journey.

At the most fundamental level, Noland believes, music was ‘deep’ in his family’s character, but always with a socio-political edge. ‘It was how we fought back, channeled our feelings.’ His music and his Hawaiian identity were always connected. ‘Lyrically, I always try to make my songs timeless, yet at the same time related to the things that are happening now, like in 2008. That keeps the music fresh.’

His politics developed young, ‘at first, just by looking.’ He had to work at an early age, and one of his first jobs was with the Congress of Hawaiian People with James Bacon. ‘He became my first uncle in the business world of Hawaii. He was a good friend of Alvin Shim. They showed me what was going on, how Hawaiian politics and business all intertwine with our culture. Then I saw George Helm perform and I was so fortunate to meet Walter Ritte Jr. at such an early age. Their leadership and commitment made such an impact to my own Hawaiian cause. It inspired the future of my music, to be right in the middle of all that political stuff. In my dreams I went with them many times to care for Kaho’olawe. I was able to write a lyric or two and before you knew it people began to say, hey, have you seen that young kid, the kid is pretty good! I began to be embraced by the top musicians and radio deejays of the time.’

Noland’s politics and music started to come together when he was in High School in the early 70s, through a series of events rather than one Big Moment. He wrote his first song about age fifteen. ‘I was at the tail-end of that left side,’ he says, speaking of Vietnam and the anti-war movement. ‘So I put it in my music rather than my life.’

He considers himself ‘very active’ in the Sovereignty movement for the things that he believes in.

He was particularly struck by Blues music: ‘it wrenched my heart.’ He was also drawn to jazz, which he sees as ‘a kind of protest music.’ The experience drove him to investigate both the history of music and History, and the two combined. Noland adds: ‘that’s one of things I was trying to say in my most recent album, Mystical Fish. Music is history; it documents the lives and events of the people and the times. Melodic reminders of a time when…’

Noland Facts & Stats Name: Noland Kaleolikolani Conjugacion Albums: Hawaiian Inside; Sun Daddy; Native News; Hawaiian Slack Key Guitar Festivals; Lifesong; Mystical Fish; Pick A Hit Hawai`i ; FM 100 Birthday Bash Sweet 16. Educated: The Kamehameha Schools, ‘The Streets of Kalihi,’ Moku ‘o Keawe, Molokai aina momona Age: ‘50th State of Mind’ Wife: Heidi ‘Ula’ Ho Children: Wing Chun (25), Jun Fan (20), Fook Luk Sau (18) Public Service: The Tracking Project; works with community educators and Native elders from around the world to connect individuals directly to the natural world; cares for acreage on Molokai, preserving Hawaiian customs, indigenous plants and animal species.

Among his early role models was Kaipo Daniels, who recognized his talent and took him under his wing and journeyed the islands with him. Noland feels he learned crucially from this experience, and moved back to the Big Island with Daniels. ‘He had a house filled with instruments, all the best local musicians used to stop in our house, and I just was around them and learned about life and the rhythm of it all.’

So far as real-world politics are concerned, Noland describes himself as ‘a peace-maker.’ He feels that ‘the time is now, to make important decisions about what we are going to leave for our kids, because of the global situation.’

In 2000 he founded Brother Noland Goodwill Charities, which includes his ‘Hawaiian Inside’ course and the ‘Lessons of Aloha’ program. Its most important message is Ano, ‘how you treat people, how you carry yourself, your behavior and character.’ With his wife Heidi he also works with The Tracking Project, an international global network which teaches and shares with all people who are interested and concerned, native, indigenous and aboriginal survival skills and knowledge. Its purpose is to ‘bring the pieces back together again,’ the original instructions.

He considers himself ‘very active’ in the Sovereignty movement for the things that he believes in. Among his most important immediate commitments is the struggle to keep La‘au Point on Molokai free from high-income development. ‘It would completely change the local way of life,’ he believes. Noland is also strongly opposed to GMO technology being applied to taro.

During our interview, Noland often used the phrase ‘spiritual wickedness’ when describing things he didn’t like. I asked him what he meant by it. ‘I mean spiritual wickedness in higher places: for example, the way that our kids are not being nurtured in everything that the Creator gave us. I know how important that kind of work is from when I was growing up in the Projects.’

The other side is ‘spiritual goodness,’ by which he means ‘having good timing, like in music, good tempo, so you don’t mess up the music, using your sense to find the right melodic or rhythmic feel. It’s not just percussive but melodic. It’s associated with understanding poetic intelligence and using it to communicate to others, the things you know, the things you feel and the things we all think about. We are all in this Love together. What you don’t want is for the oppressed to become the oppressor.’

I commented that what he was describing sounded like a concrete definition of aloha. He thumped the table approvingly. ‘You got it!’ he laughed. (Noland’s ideas about Aloha and its ‘seven degrees or layers,’ are outlined in his book, The Lessons of Aloha: Stories of the Human Spirit, 2005).

His personal life also profoundly affects his music, though just how ‘it’s hard to explain.’ He says that ‘it needs to be experienced.’ Hawaiians say, ‘ike. ‘An example is the way he recently celebrated Christmas, with his wife, children and his extended family, what he calls his ‘non-biological kids.’ He says he ‘experiences their energy.’

Noland loves his wife Heidi and family with an almost palpable intensity—one senses that his commitment is near the core of his being. In this spirit, I asked him what he considered to be the secret to a happy marriage.

He paused. ‘Time and space glittered with a most colorful sense of humor,’ he finally announced, and then laughingly agreed that it was also a good idea to help with the dishes.

Brother Noland feels that the three biggest influences on his life were Walter Ritte Jr., Kaipo Daniels and his Filipino Martial Arts instructor, Frank Mamalias, who taught him that ‘the Dragon lives in the dark,’ that is, ‘to be gentle and yet strong, be still as a mountain and roar like the river. The key is to be ‘a peaceful warrior.’ He claims that martial arts have also shaped his music. Master Frank once told him, ‘If your heart is true, all your moves are correct.’ With that perspective, ‘it’s one giant, wonderful dance,’ he says.

As for the future, he has few personal worries. He is content within himself, and feels that things are going well in his life. What he really cares about are his children and what may lie ahead for them.
He also thinks about the future of Hawaii’s youth. ‘All of these programs and presentations—the basketball tournaments and clinics, The Tracking Project Hawaii, the ukulele and music classes, that I do now—take up a lot of my time, but time well spent learning from all these kids and people I meet.’

Noland says he particularly enjoyed this interview because it wasn’t ‘full of all the boring stuff they usually ask me.’ He was glad for the chance to share his ideas about politics, life, spirituality, aloha and the deeper side to his music, ‘where everything meshes.’

As we shook hands and he drove off in his modest car, I reflected that Brother Noland is the consummate, the ultimate, Music Man. He is not the whole of Hawaiian music, but Hawaiian music would be a lesser and vastly different thing without him.

back to top

© Copyright Generations Hawaii. Designed by Trade Publishing