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Wayde Compton, Performance Bond. Vancouver: Arsenal Pulp Press, 2004.

Reviewed by Reg Johanson
The Rain 3:3 (August-October 2005): 1


People want different things from Wayde Compton. Some want him for hip hop, some want him as an activist, some want him as a community booster, some even want him as the saviour of poetry itself. Writing in the Georgia Straight, Jim Christy asks, “Does [Performance Bond ] revive poetry? Rescue it from the smothering grasp of the academics, on the one hand, and the know-nothings on the other? The answer is, unfortunately, no” (Georgia Straight 10 February 2005). I can’t decide whether inviting the punch-drunk Christy—whose understanding of poetry ends with the Beats—to review Performance Bond was an act of ignorance or spite on the Straight’s part.

But the ambitions of Compton’s work do inspire high, if sometimes bizarre, expectations. His first two books conjured something new: a literary history of black BC (Bluesprint: Black British Columbian Literature and Orature, Arsenal Pulp 2001) and a history of black BC as epic poetry (49th Parallel Psalm, Advance/Arsenal Pulp 1999). Compton’s imagination of history in these two books is inspired by Kamau Braithwaite’s “tidalectics”: “a way of seeing history as a palimpsest, where generations overlap generations, and eras wash over eras like tides on a stretch of beach. […] Repetition, whether in the form of ancestor worship or the poem-histories of the griot, informs black ontologies more than does the Europeanist drive for perpetual innovation […] In a European framework, the past is something to be gotten over […] in tidalectics, we do not improve upon the past, but are ourselves versions of the past” (Bluesprint 17). Thus the images in Compton’s poetry of wheels, discs, records; the anachronisms; the name-checks, roll calls, avatars, ghosts, haunts; possessions by and masks of Voodoo deities; the playing with and among the fantasies of Afrocentrist history; and the fascination with crossings and “the mix”, which for Compton always point to the creative impurity and generative instability of diaspora.

In Performance Bond Compton continues to work with history, most notably in “Rune”, “a poem about Hogan’s Alley, a neighbourhood in which most of Vancouver’s black residents lived during the first two-thirds of the twentieth century. The core of Hogan’s Alley was demolished in 1970 by Vancouver City Council to make way for an overpass [the Georgia Viaduct]” (10). As in previous work, Compton is trying to write, or conjure, a black community into existence, not only to re-present what the City has attempted to erase, but also to create something that wasn’t there before. In “Lost-Found Landmarks of Black Vancouver”, for example, Compton offers portraits of black community institutions that never existed. Photographer Robert Sherrin and artist Mykol Knighton collaborate with Compton to produce photos of (real) buildings bearing (fake) signage that reads “Strathcona Colored People’s Benevolent Society of Vancouver” at 227 Union Street, “The False Creek Moslem Temple” at 315 Prior Street, “The Pacific Negro Working Men’s Association” at 221 East Georgia Street. These organizations never existed, but they do now. This is why I like the notion of conjuring to describe Compton’s historical work: he knows that remembering is inventing. He invents a past which locates Hogan’s Alley within the larger context of black migrations, settlements and un-settlements. Compton’s conjuring of the past makes something new in the present, sends it back in time, and offers a community to the future. His writing strives toward the condition of the veve, “part of a Voodoo ritual in Haiti. The person doing the ceremony takes a handful of something and draws an image on the ground or on the floor of the temple” (117). The veve “has the power to actually invoke […] It’s magic. It’s more than language, it’s sorcery, or worship. It’s a portal between worlds” (118).

But this notion of the veve also makes a problem for Compton’s urbanism. The veve appeals for its ability to make-present, but it is also “ephemeral” and “can drift away in the wind or be eaten by birds” (121). What are we to make of this in the context of pre-Olympic, condo-crazy Vancouver? Strathcona is now a gentrified and security-patrolled suburb of the downtown business district, and the Downtown Eastside itself is always threatened by the same narratives that buried Hogan’s Alley under the Georgia Viaduct, and before that, the communities of the Coast Salish—narratives of “economic revitalization”, “highest and best use”, and of out-of-control criminal activity that threatens property values and the people who value it. As Compton imagines a black Strathcona resident saying in 1970, “They are writing us out of this part of the City; / they are reporting us away; they are bylawing us blank” (148). Compton’s own efforts with the Hogan’s Alley Memorial Project to embed physical memorials to the black community in Strathcona suggest the importance of a record that doesn’t vanish so easily.

But that’s not all. You get a lot of value for your money in a Wayde Compton book. Performance Bond also contains a CD, an incarnation / avatar / remix / variation / tidaletic revision of “The Reinventing Wheel”, a turntable performance “involving two turntables, two dub plates and various pre-recorded vinyl” (9). “The Reinventing Wheel” has been remixed twice before as “The Cargo Cult Mix” and “The Rolling Wave Mix” with Jason de Couto. The version presented in Performance Bond is the “Ouroboros Mix”, with Trevor Thompson of The Rain and The Sidewalk. In “The Reinventing Wheel” Compton is interested in the meaning of hip hop as a representation of blackness and resistance within a global economy: “Act like you know./ I take my cue out of crates and boxes / speak by outfoxing rock. That’s hip hop / in the boondocks, / the relief package drop zone” (108). Compton imagines hip hop—music developed and signifying within a specific time and place, New York and L.A. in the 80s and 90s—as a “cargo cult” in which local conditions beyond those centers alter and renew the meanings of the music: “I echo New York back / like a code-cracker. / Reality hacker. A Crusoe” (108). He’s critical of the limited identities offered by hip hop—“The age / demands bling bling, not Mau Mau” (102)—but ultimately it’s the Spirit that Compton is interested in, the Spirit African-American writer Ishmael Reed called “Jes’ Grew”, the multiple and hybrid yet constant and continuing forms the music takes, “the ghosts in [the] Technics. There is immortality / in the track. A snake / chasing its tail. The groove / moving the text. The descendant’s speak / unsheathing the record. The beat / of skin remembered. The donning / of masks we become, membered” (103-4).

Maybe the best move Compton makes is to show how the experience of migration, settlement, displacement, and diaspora—of music and of people—is not limited to black folks but is shared by the millions of people who suffer the cruelties of capitalist globalization. People are driven from their homes by the effects of SAPs (Structural Adjustment Programs) which are sponsored by wealthy nations, then the wealthy nations close their borders to the people they have displaced: “if you arrive in the belly of a rusting imagination, there are grounds to outlaw you. […] there is no […] hope of consistency in foreign and foreigner policy or obduracy of floodgate metaphors and death sentence deportations. the backbeat back-bone of the chorus that screeches  ‘back home!’ is the drum and bass treble track alliteration of Koma-Koma-Komagatamaru” (31). The distorting fantasy of Canada as a primarily “white nation” that should be proud of itself for “tolerating diversity” is challenged in Performance Bond, which offers many different, overlapping Columbias to displace the primacy of whiteness: “Chinese Columbia / Haida Columbia / Punjabi Columbia / Japanese Columbia / African Columbia / Vietnamese Columbia / Squamish Columbia / Jewish Columbia / Salish Columbia” (44). This list reminds me of Che Guevera’s call for “One, two, three, many Vietnams!” In both there is the call for a structural adjustment different from the one imagined by World Bank economists. The irony, however, is that unlike Asian, African, and South American countries, North America never had its “Vietnam”. The colonizers still rule, the indigenous people whose land was stolen from them have no share in its wealth. Does the re-colonization of the world by global capital mean that aboriginal claims are obsolete? That the need to decolonize has been overtaken by History? Or is, as the Anishinabe poet Annharte says, “first a first for first nations?” This situation makes Compton’s vision of multiple shared Columbias more problematic.

Compton’s project is incredibly ambitious and wide-ranging. Performance Bond moves it ahead through collaboration with other artists and the exploration of the mediums of photography and music. In partnership with Karina Vernon and David Chariandy, Compton has also become a publisher, founding Commodore Books to publish black writers.

It’s enough.