THE most notable figures in popular music during the 1960s, who used the medium as a powerful platform to disseminate new political ideas, were Bob Dylan and The Beatles.

Legend recounts the meeting and creative exchange between these two icons during one of Dylan’s early United Kingdom tours. The encounter sparked The Beatles’ social and spiritual awakening, as well as Dylan’s “invention” of the folk rock genre.

Of course, the true catalysts here were the young people of that era, who eagerly embraced both the music and the novel ideas they conveyed. It is important to recognise the Boomer generation, as they laid the foundation for subsequent youth cultures as we know them today. I often remind my Gen Z students not to belittle this generation.

Fast forward to modern-day Malaysia, specifically the period 2008-2013, which was an intriguing time for the awakening of the arts community in Kuala Lumpur. In my opinion, this era mirrored the political and musical zeitgeist of the 1960s.

When I refer to the “arts community,” I am talking about its various categories, including music, film, theatre, literature, and visual arts.

During this period, Malaysia was fresh from the game-changing 2008 general election, and the time leading up to the subsequent election in 2013 was marked by a surge of activities that resembled the cross-pollination of ideas within the political consciousness of Malaysian youth.

My personal heroes were the seasoned “otai” (a colloquial Malay term for “old timers”) who were already active on the ground, doing what they did best. However, it was within the singer-songwriter and folk circuits that political folk music finally found its footing during this period.

Two trailblazers emerged during this time: Nik Jidan and the late Meor Yusof Aziddin, both of whom were buskers by profession long before busking became mainstream.

These artists also traversed the independent and underground music scenes. Meor had been making his mark since the 1990s, while Nik underwent a political transformation around this period.

They keenly sensed the pulse of the times and articulated it through their singalong songs. However, they were eventually set adrift due to the self-centred politicking of those they championed.

Nik was an active presence at the Bersih rallies in the capital during this time, and his songs were firmly rooted in the protest song tradition of Woody Guthrie and Pete Seeger. He released the political protest album “Dendang Anak Muda” with the animated image of the late Teoh Beng Hock on the cover.

Meor released an album of political and protest songs titled “Dari Rakyat Untuk Rakyat” (From the People for the People) – a phrase that the Selangor government adopted without giving credit to Meor. The album included lyrical collaborations with political activists like Hishamuddin Rais.

Both artists were regular performers at political rallies organised by the then-opposition parties, which drew massive audiences.

However, my assumption that the album would sell well and that crowds would gather to sing along to the songs at concerts was shattered when Meor told me that the album didn’t achieve significant sales despite the political climate. Eventually, when the Pakatan Harapan government was formed in 2018, these foot soldiers were forgotten.

The pandemic dealt a severe blow to these folk heroes. Meor succumbed to Covid-19 in December 2021, and Nik, struggling to make ends meet, abandoned music and resorted to odd jobs.

Their plight lies at the heart of the Malaysian public’s political illiteracy. We often voice our complaints but fail to rally behind the voices in the arts who have given their all.

We seek solace in the comforts of Astro, Netflix, food and shopping, hoping that while we avert our gaze, things will magically change on their own.

We devote excessive attention and hope to our political leaders, often without recognising or comprehending the systemic decay that governs their actions and inactions.

Our musical preferences have yet to evolve into a legitimate vehicle for addressing our grievances. Perhaps our collective middle-class aspirations have blurred our political resolve.

Let us not forget the foot soldiers like Nik and Meor. I’m certain there were others in Malaysia during the 1960s and 1970s, idealists with strong moral compasses, whose efforts faded into the depths of present cultural memory, undocumented.

Malaysians have now retreated into their online comfort zones, only taking action at the ballot box. While this is encouraging, the fact that our art fails to mirror or reflect our political aspirations remains a consistent wasted opportunity. – July 7, 2023.

* Azmyl Yunor is a touring underground recording artiste, and an academic in media and cultural studies. He has published articles on pop culture, subcultures and Malaysian cultural politics. He adheres to the three-chords-and-the-truth school of songwriting, and Woody Guthrie’s maxim “All you can write is what you see”. He is @azmyl on Twitter.

* This is the opinion of the writer or publication and does not necessarily represent the views of The Malaysian Insight. Article may be edited for brevity and clarity.