Scott Kara: Rip off the tag, it's music

I have a solution to one of music's most hotly debated controversies. "World music" is a dirty term among many world music fans. Yes, it's broad, unflattering and an all-encompassing term used to describe everything from Portuguese fado and Argentinian tango to Malian pop and even, on occasion, barbeque reggae soul boys Fat Freddys Drop.

Well, it's music from around the world I guess. Then again, so is conventional pop and rock. So these world music fans - sorry for continually calling you that - have a point.

But after doing a series of interviews with some of the musicians who play at this weekend's Womad festival in New Plymouth, I can't help but think the best term for world music is, well, just plain old music.

Of the three artists I talked to, the first (Anglo-Egyptian diva Natacha Atlas) refused to talk about herself at all; the second (Chinese singer and multi-instrumentalist Sa Dingding) was with a translator; and the third (blind Aboriginal singer/songwriter Gurrumul) communicated through a spokesperson because he prefers not to talk to media.

Firstly, dearest Natacha. The interview with the self-confessed "Human Gaza Strip" started something like this ...

How are you?

"Good."

Are you looking forward to coming to New Zealand?

"Ah, yep."

Enough small talk then. So why have you been able to cover so many different styles in your music?

"I don't talk about myself. I don't like to talk about myself much."

Politics and history is her forte, but even then she doesn't so much as talk about these things, as point you towards something she thinks you should see. As I said in my story in February, she lets her Facebook page do the talking. Let's just say the interview was an exercise in diplomacy.

Of the three, Sa Dingding was the most straightforward despite the language barrier. It helped that the translator relayed Dingding's whimsical memories of living in Inner Mongolia as a young girl with a sisterly charm.

Gurrumul was a much more curious proposition, because he has a white fella spokesperson called Michael Hohnen who plays in his band.

Gurrumul, whose Yolngu people live in the remote coastal reaches of Australia's Northern Territory, believes he has no real need to talk about himself to a prying part-Maori fella journalist. Or to any media for that matter. He really does let his music do the talking - even if you don't understand his native tongue.

It turns out Hohnen was a more than able ambassador who speaks about his experiences with Gurrumul rather than speaking for him.

I tell ya, talking to this lot was like a meeting at the United Nations. However, forget the world music tag, it's just plain old music right?

Recently I discovered the delights of Amadou et Mariam (yes, many years after the cool world music people would have, I'm sure) who are pop musicians from Mali. It's some of the best music I've heard in years. As they would say in French-speaking Mali, "Allez! Ecoutez!". Go. Listen. Jump to it.

And the music at Womad is some of the most captivating and inviting of all. At the festival you'll see all shapes and sizes of different races and ages. All sorts of dance moves. Hands in the air, eyes open, eyes closed, it doesn't matter. Anything goes.

You'll find whole families getting down on the slopes of the beautiful Bowl of Brooklands, alongside old hippies who break out the tie-dye singlets and leggings once a year - and when night descends, watch out for those fire poi twirlers. But by all means, please feel free to give them a gentle nudge into the lake.