Obama is praised worldwide

Since the exhaustingly long Democratic primary opened for business, a niche art form has blossomed in the black diaspora: the Barack Obama praise song.

The rhythms and melodies range from Jamaican reggae to Kenyan benga, but that pulse of a people's collective hopes racing into the ether is unmistakably familiar: "Yes, We Can" sounds the same in Luo as it does in English.

By the time Puerto Rico puts a wrap to this extended season of American political theater with its June 3 primary, some globetrotting multi-cultural record label--say, Putumayo or Mango--should have the goods for a compilation titled "Obama-mania: World Music Edition."

Track one could be the latest endorsement ringing out of Jamaica: "Barack Obama," a hastily assembled hard-steppin' reggae tune by the aging yet ever-eerie crooner Coco Tea. The 48-year-old's grizzled lilt is a voice from a lost generation of digitized mid-80s pop, a period in reggae history that rarely gets its dues outside of Jamaica.

Heretofore, the closest the singer ever hot-stepped towards politics was his seminal satire, "New Immigration Law," an enduring acknowledgment of what every ex-pat Rasta knows: "The government you just can't depend on." Documenting offense after offense, the song's ultimate message is less apolitical than anti-political--the singer is in line with a long Rastafarian tradition that views the Western political system as irredeemably corrupt. So to hear this chap waving hosannas for the "next president of the United States" is a bit of a shocker.

The musical euphoria flows from Coco Tea's zealous repetition of the words "Barack Obama, Barack Obama, Barack Obama." It's a few cliches shy of a "Saturday Night Live" skit, but more importantly, it's a testament to the pervasive, border-leaping intensity of Obama's message--and a sign that the rock-hard forces of reggae cynicism and disillusionment can indeed be brought low.

Sail southward to the cheerier shores of Trinidad and you get swamped with "Barack the Magnificent," a dazzling calypso-fest in which trumpeting synthesizers emote the kind of love for Obama that you'd be hard-pressed to squeeze out of even his most fervent supporters. When it comes to grassroots enthusiasm, you can't compete with a synthesizer, and nobody knows that better than the musicians of Trinidad and Tobago, including the soca legend in question, Mighty Sparrow.

Over something like five decades, Mighty Sparrow has made a livelihood critiquing American imperialism. Much more than the happiness junkie Coco Tea, he's an informed voter with a command of political fine print reflected in amazingly well-researched lyrics like "The Foreign Relations Committee can attest to his tenacity." Not the kind of prose that's easy to squeeze into a Calypso meter. Another great line: "On the Senate Veteran's Affairs Committee, he's a giant." It's entirely possible that two or three of those proper nouns have never before been mentioned in a Calypso song. Plus, it's hard to top this as a health care platform: "Providers must give a heck."

Steer your browser toward the Kenyan Serengeti, and the ardor hits a fevered pitch. Of all the Kenyan contributions to Obama-mania, the most thrilling might be the dreamlike "Obama," by Tony Nyadundo, a middle-aged bandleader seeking to revive traditional-esque ohangla music with pattering drum beats and topical storytelling.

On "Obama" -the title track from his sixth record--he weaves quite a tale, which according to East African Standard reporter Caroline Nyanga translates as such: On his first trip to Kenya, the senator and the humble musician met one another, and so impressed by the singer's immaculate English, Obama decided to give the guy 100,000 Kenyan shillings (U.S. $1,600, roughly) to buy a guitar and spread his message. Here's how Nyanga characterizes the anthem's reception: "Revelers in Kenyan dancehalls usually go into a frenzy and dance with abandon as soon as Obama's song rends the air."

Yet the best song in the Obama catalogue may well have been the first. On their "Obama," the half-American/half-Kenyan foursome Extra Golden sing their praise for the senator, but mostly their thanks. During his 2006 tour of East Africa, Obama helped the band's Kenyan members get a visa to tour America, thereby routing them around that prickly New Immigration Law that Coco Tea was harping about.

The Extra Golden tune is a refreshing contribution to the Obama cannon--unlike the rest, it's penned in thoughtful appreciation for the politician, dealing in results already delivered, rather than change anticipated.

There are other picks, too. Ghana's Blakk Rasta has an ominous crunk-dancehall sound for the candidate, mostly warning Obama to mind his safety, because there are racists out there.

Suffice it to say that John Kerry never had a beer named after him, whereas Obama is exalted in every hop and grain in "Senator," a frothy and occasionally lethal substance sold cheaply in the slums of Nairobi.