The transnational subject seems the primary agent of the
present historical moment. That statement, true though it appears, nonetheless
is fairly hollow. Immigrant laborers, disenfranchised lumpens working
everywhere in the heartlands of capitalist modernity but invisible to the
majority except when in need of scapegoats for what ails the body politic, are
transnational subjects. So too are bourgeois “world citizens” who feel an
affinity for faraway places, feel at home in “foreign” cultures, and are fluent
in the cultural codes of modernity, whose vernacular is always consumer culture
or mass media. (This is you and me, in case you hadn’t guessed.) These
constituencies, whose worlds often overlap on opposite sides of the retail
counter in the global marketplace, cannot really be analyzed in satisfactory
terms through theoretical optics that apply to both of them at once. Yet they
are both hailed at the same time by forms of popular music that reveal the
aesthetic and socio-economic contradictions embodied by transnational subjectivity.
Manu Chao’s “Welcome to Tijuana,” for example, takes into
account the experiences of subaltern transnational subjects. “Welcome to
Tijuana/Tequila, sexo, marihuana/Welcome to Tijuana/Con el coyote no hay
aduana,” he sings. Manu Chao uses Tijuana to symbolize the uneven economic
conditions between first world surplus and third world poverty. Tijuana in this
song is a space in which the rules of the modern order are suspended. But that
suspension signifies different things to different people. To a first world
tourist traveling south, Tijuana means being able to purchase the suspension
of legal and moral norms. To an immigrant from the global south, Tijuana makes
possible the clandestine evasion of geopolitical boundaries in search of a
better life. Even while it takes into account subaltern experiences, “Welcome
to Tijuana,” I think, presupposes a bourgeois transnational audience. The song’s
uncompromising linguistic dexterity, its unblinking realism, and its avant-garde musical
structure limit its popular appeal. Let’s be real, this is the kind of shit
university students dig the world over.
Shakira’s “Addicted to You” I hear on Latino commercial
radio all the time, however. I have to say that as much as I appreciate the critical
impulse of Manu Chao’s music, the sense of social justice that pervades his
work, his inventiveness, I think that Shakira’s song is in a sense much
more democratic. Her work aims to reach a much broader audience: Latin
Americans, Latinos in the U.S., and random white people. Granted
it’s a fairly shallow kind of democracy, we’re really just talking about
commercial demographics here. The four words of English in the song perfectly
capture its transnational pandering. But its rhythms (awesome), its subject
matter (totally relatable), and the unique lyrical quality of Shakira’s voice
(foxy and not threatening) make this a song people want to listen to regardless
of their social or political position.
So to return to the dilemma of transnational subjectivity,
while Manu Chao’s music deals with a wider range of transnational experiences,
its appeal is limited to a much narrower demographic than Shakira’s.
Conversely, her song addresses the transnational experience only superficially
but it appeals to a broad spectrum of transnational subjects from every level
of society. Crap.
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