| Makana Music

A slacker is one thing you could never call Makana. But you can call him a slack-rocker. Different Game, the independently released, high-powered fourth album from the young singer-songwriter-musician, fuses Makana’s slack key guitar virtuosity (a style that sounds like three guitars in one) with elements of rock, folk, bluegrass and blues—all within poignant, original message songs—to create a brand new genre of music.

Building upon his roots as the keeper of Hawai`i’s slack key flame, Makana takes the centuries-old tradition and blasts it into the 21st century, much in the way that rock bands of the ’60s and ’70s updated traditional genres like blues and country music. But although slack key forms the basis of Makana’s music, he’s not stuck in the past. Transcending labels and moving forward has always been his prime motivation. “I’m constantly expanding my language so I can communicate with everyone,” he says. “It’s really a musical journey, an evolution. My music is about exploring.”

Hailing from the isle of O’ahu, Makana—whose name means “a gift given freely”—began singing when he was 7 years old, took up ‘ukulele at 9 and began learning the ancient art of slack key at 11, studying under the legendary master, Sonny Chillingworth. By 14, he was already performing professionally, and before long playing four nights a week. His reputation as the youngest master of slack key spread like molten volcanic lava throughout the islands. Makana rapidly built up a devoted fan base via his unpredictable, awe-inspiring live performances and his first three albums: Makana (1999), Koi Au (2002) and Ki Ho’alu: Journey of Hawaiian Slack Key (2003). With each successive year, more and more music fans—both on and outside of the islands—are experiencing the Makana phenomenon. In addition to his own headlining tours, Makana and his band have opened shows for the likes of Sting, Santana, Elvis Costello, Jason Mraz, and Raul Midon and they’ve wowed even those hard-to-please audiences every time out. Makana was nominated for a Grammy in 2006 for his contribution to the album Hawaiian Slack Key Kings and won the Best World Music Album award at the Hawai’i Music Awards for his debut album. Makana was also honored with the Artist for Peace Award in 2005. Makana has infinite respect for the traditions of native Hawaiian music, and a deep knowledge of the evolution of slack key since its 18th century beginnings, but staying bolted to traditional forms was never an option. “That’s my roots and where I come from,” he says. “But for me slack key is not so much a cultural thing as an ingenious approach to the guitar that allows me to create my own music and interpret classics in a unique fashion. I have the ability to play the old style music—I’m well versed in the traditional songs, and in my show I’ll do a few of those. But my music, although it’s very inclusive of culture, is my own.”

The 15 songs that comprise Different Game, recorded in Austin, Texas and produced by Dwight A. Baker, survey a wide emotional and philosophical range. Makana calls it “a soundtrack to letting go.” He explains further: “This is my first pop release. It didn’t start out as a concept record but it became one. What motivates me in my music isn’t just music. It’s the message. People blame politics and the education system and all these things for why our society is so disorganized and people are suffering and unhappy and there’s so much inequality, but I look to the musicians and songwriters, because most pop music is reinforcing mythology. My music is going against that, breaking down and challenging mythology. When you listen to these songs, you realize: this isn’t a soundtrack validating what you believe about yourself. Different Game challenges you to take responsibility for your life and see that you can be extremely happy in doing that.”

Right from the opening track on Different Game, “Away,” Makana’s vision asserts itself in lyrics that are both poetic and imbued with universal truths: “A man is a child at heart/This child will someday depart/As will thee/You’ll fly away to be free/On wings of uncertainty,” he sings. With breathtakingly soaring guitar lines and a voice that draws the listener in with its purity of tone, Makana wastes no time proving that he is an artist who must be heard. With each successive track, his music and message become even more assured and vital, taking a direct line to the heart while begging the brain to consider all it’s hearing. Makana digs deeply into his soul and puts himself on the line, bypassing cliché and putting a spin on life’s experiences that isn’t often found in pop music.

In several songs on the album he takes what in other hands might be a tired old formula—the good love gone bad—and brings to it a new perspective. Other songs take on difficult subjects without holding back. “Necksnap Blues,” for example, is a biting commentary on the pathetic state of the music industry, while “Mars Declares” takes a chilling, honest look at the impact of the war in Iraq on the families of those sent off to fight it. When listening to Makana, it becomes immediately apparent that this is an artist like no other. “My music is a means for me to inspire and influence people to become vulnerable,” he says.

But as involving as his recordings are, a Makana live performance is even more of a celebration. His concerts never fail to incite audiences into giving standing ovations and going home to spread the word to others. Some fans travel long distances to be a part of the Makana experience; one reason for that—outside of the sheer sizzling energy of the music—is that every Makana show is different. Any expectations audiences might have are tossed right out the window once he straps on his guitar and walks up to the microphone.

“When you come to a Makana performance you don’t know what the hell I’m gonna do,” the artist says. “I could show up in spandex or a suit or ti leaves. I could play a traditional Hawaiian song or sing a polka. But the vibe is gonna be the same. I just start talking like I’ve been talking to my best friend all day, then I start demonstrating what I do on the guitar. I start ripping the guitar to shreds and go nuts. I run around and make a lot of crazy faces. I’ll blindfold myself or play with my arms or my legs. I do Led Zeppelin and Pink Floyd in slack key. Because if you understand what I’m doing, you’re gonna have a deeper experience. This is where the magic comes in.”

“All of my music is a gift. It comes through me and I give it freely,” Makana concludes, taking the literal meaning of his name very seriously. “That’s not just a cheap philosophy. I really live that.”