Seven years ago, deejay and vinyl-record collector Roger Bong started a blog to chronicle his crate-digging finds of albums and artists who fashioned the signature soul, funk, disco, jazz, Hawaiian, world-fusion sound synonymous with the 1970s and ’80s in Hawai‘i. In the years that followed, Aloha Got Soul, as Bong named his blog, blossomed into a digitized archive of music otherwise destined to be forgotten in dust-covered bins across the islands; his mix tapes on Soundcloud featuring these discoveries have been listened to and shared thousands of times. Navigating the meticulous maze of music copyrights and licensing, Bong created a label to re-issue 17 vinyl records of rediscovered albums and singles. And monthly, the deejay hosts vinyl-centric dance parties, spinning Hawai‘i funk and disco in cities from Honolulu to Chicago to London. Bong is getting the world back into the groove, one unearthed record at a time.
Now, Aloha Got Soul is making a film.
Pedro Rämos, a Brazilian film producer and avid record collector, read of Bong’s label in 2013 in Wax Poetics, a cult music magazine for crate-diggers. The article praised his Soul Time in Hawaii mix tape, which featured some of Aloha Got Soul’s most notable finds, like the feel-good song “Lahaina” by Al Nobriga, foot-stomping disco gems by Aura, and Mackey Feary’s lesser-known Mackey Feary Band.
“My mind was blow away,” Rämos says. “I didn’t know Hawai‘i was doing this kind of music back in the ’70s and ’80s. My perception of Hawai‘i is hula dancers and only that, not this funk and soul sound. I thought, man, this is a whole universe.”
Six months later, Rämos reached out to Bong to see if he was interested in exchanging vinyls: Brazilian bossa nova from Rämos’s country for Hawaiian soul from Bong’s home islands. The pair happily swapped records. Then, in 2016, Rämos approached Bong about making a film documenting this genre of Hawaiian music. The two had never met in person, had no funds and no formal script, and only had a three-week window for filming. Reluctant but intrigued, Bong agreed, taking what he saw as a leap of faith.
Rämos enlisted filmmaker Filipe Zapelini and assistant producer Pedru Carvalho for the production. The trio traveled to Honolulu, where they met Bong, and then together, they island-hopped to Hilo on Hawai‘i Island to shoot the documentary. The process unfolded organically, with the crew shooting interviews with 15 musicians, backed by the raw and awesome sights of Hawai‘i Island. Volcanoes and waterfalls are paired with a booming soundtrack featuring songs like Robert “Aeolus” Myers’s “Jungle Love,” a powerful ambient track with indigenous influences not typically associated with the islands. Combined, the filmmakers aim to complete a harmonious 25-minute experience that delves into the work of notable artists featured on Aloha Got Soul.
“It will make the world aware of the diversity of music made and still being made in Hawai‘i, and in ways that can’t be expressed through the blog or in words,” Bong says. The documentary spends time with the era’s seminal artists, like Kalapana member Kirk Thompson, who went on to form the jazzy, boundary-pushing Lemuria; engineer Pierre Grill, the man behind the longest-running recording studio in Hawai‘i; and dynamite musician Mike Lundy, whose 1979 LP The Rhythm of Life is considered a “holy grail” by Aloha Got Soul standards for its rarity and Hawaiian funkiness. It also features contemporary musicians like Maryanne Ito and Nick Kaleikini, who draw on the influences of the ’70s-era legends.
In the film’s most enduring moments, artists perform their original songs in the presence of a new generation, showcasing what Aloha Got Soul is best at: making the old new again. The musicians light up at the thought of how far-reaching their songs have become in the age of the Internet—a means of distribution unfathomable when they first recorded them.
The heart of the narrative centers on these scenes, and a theme emerges as the camera follows the musicians in and out of recording studios and as they go about their daily lives. The documentary, now in post-production and set to be finished in summer 2017, easily represents the most time a film has spent covering these artists, many of whom are now in their 60s and 70s, who shaped this Hawaiian soundscape. “A lot of the story is going to revolve around the musicians, their experiences, and ultimately, their life’s purpose,” Bong says. “It talks about life, spirit, aloha, and it talks about the music, too.”
“My intention is to record my art so that when I pass on, my children and my grandchildren will know, ‘She was a musician, she had a message,'” says Hilo musician Alice Wise, a kanikapila artist with only one recorded song to her name and who is featured in the Aloha Got Soul documentary.
“The Lord keeps you ticking, he gives you a lot of material and energy. He gives you purpose and meaning, and the songs just come,” says Kirk Thompson, the founding keyboardist of Kalapana and creator of legendary band Lemuria.
Kit Ebersbach, owner of Pacific Music Productions studio.
Ward Yamashita, owner of Hungry Ear Records.
Edie Bilke, friend of the late Frank Tavares, a Maui-based musician who recorded an obscure experimental LP in the mid-1970s entitled Na Mele A Ka Haku.
Robin Kimura, leader of the 1970s band Greenwood and organizer of the 1970s Nightclub Reunion concert series that began in the early 2000s.
“Hawaiian music, a lot of it was recorded for tourists and it was just distributed here. The only way we were heard is if someone happened to be here and heard it, and then made it known somewhere else,” says longtime Honolulu entertainment writer John Berger.
“Aloha is not just a Waikīkī greeting line, it really is a mindset. The acceptance, the gentleness—it should be taught in class. It’s the only survival skill that we should learn,” says Pierre Grill, owner of Rendez-vous Recording, which welcomes aspiring artists looking to cut their first recording.
“Music can be taught in a public school no matter how rural it is, and it can be successful. That would be the legacy I’d like to leave behind. I’ve taken this small community and made the very best of it, for the community and the state, setting an example,” says Gary Washburn, who has led Honoka‘a High School’s jazz band for nearly four decades and has recorded three jazz fusion albums.
“The generation that’s coming up, they’re introducing new sounds and new ideas. On top of that, within the past few years, I’ve seen a lot of new faces coming into the islands. Our strength lies here in the music scene,” says Maryanne Ito, and up-and-coming jazz and soul singer who frequently performs in Honolulu’s Chinatown scene.
“There’s so many terrible things happening. If we interact with each other as loving human beings, then there’s peace. It radiates out. That’s what my music has been about over the years,” says Howard Shapiro (shown with his wife, Marsha Hee), a Hawai‘i Island-based musician whose band ‘Āina has addressed social and cultural issues.
The upcoming Aloha Got Soul documentary “will make the world aware of the diversity of music made and still being made in Hawai‘i, and in ways that can’t be expressed…in words,” says Roger Bong, who founded Aloha Got Soul to serve as a digitized archive of music synonymous with Hawai‘i in the 1970s and ’80s.
Brazilian film producer Pedro Rämos, who approached Bong to create the Aloha Got Soul documentary. “My perception of Hawai‘i is hula dancers, not this funk and soul sound,” Rämos says. “I thought, man, this is a whole universe.”
Filmmaker Filipe Zapelini, Aloha Got Soul documentary.
Assistant Producer Pedru Carvalho, Aloha Got Soul documentary.
“In Hawai‘i, not as many of the subgenres get as much appeal…There’s a lot of amazing jazz cats, amazing blues cats, hip-hop heads. [But] they end up performing for themselves or their friends in a small group, and yet these musicians are super talented,” says Nicholas Kaleikini, the grandson of legendary entertainer Danny Kaleikini.
“Musicians and artists and comedians become light gatherers because we walk through dark times, but to be able to express it is to let everyone know that you are not alone in this, we are all walking through some darkness,” says Hawaiian harpist Momi Riley.
Seven years ago, deejay and vinyl-record collector Roger Bong started a blog to chronicle his crate-digging finds of albums and artists who fashioned the signature soul, funk, disco, jazz, Hawaiian, world-fusion sound synonymous with the 1970s and ’80s in Hawai‘i. In the years that followed, Aloha Got Soul, as Bong named his blog, blossomed into a digitized archive of music otherwise destined to be forgotten in dust-covered bins across the islands; his mix tapes on Soundcloud featuring these discoveries have been listened to and shared thousands of times. Navigating the meticulous maze of music copyrights and licensing, Bong created a label to re-issue 17 vinyl records of rediscovered albums and singles. And monthly, the deejay hosts vinyl-centric dance parties, spinning Hawai‘i funk and disco in cities from Honolulu to Chicago to London. Bong is getting the world back into the groove, one unearthed record at a time.
Now, Aloha Got Soul is making a film.
Pedro Rämos, a Brazilian film producer and avid record collector, read of Bong’s label in 2013 in Wax Poetics, a cult music magazine for crate-diggers. The article praised his Soul Time in Hawaii mix tape, which featured some of Aloha Got Soul’s most notable finds, like the feel-good song “Lahaina” by Al Nobriga, foot-stomping disco gems by Aura, and Mackey Feary’s lesser-known Mackey Feary Band.
“My mind was blow away,” Rämos says. “I didn’t know Hawai‘i was doing this kind of music back in the ’70s and ’80s. My perception of Hawai‘i is hula dancers and only that, not this funk and soul sound. I thought, man, this is a whole universe.”
Six months later, Rämos reached out to Bong to see if he was interested in exchanging vinyls: Brazilian bossa nova from Rämos’s country for Hawaiian soul from Bong’s home islands. The pair happily swapped records. Then, in 2016, Rämos approached Bong about making a film documenting this genre of Hawaiian music. The two had never met in person, had no funds and no formal script, and only had a three-week window for filming. Reluctant but intrigued, Bong agreed, taking what he saw as a leap of faith.
Rämos enlisted filmmaker Filipe Zapelini and assistant producer Pedru Carvalho for the production. The trio traveled to Honolulu, where they met Bong, and then together, they island-hopped to Hilo on Hawai‘i Island to shoot the documentary. The process unfolded organically, with the crew shooting interviews with 15 musicians, backed by the raw and awesome sights of Hawai‘i Island. Volcanoes and waterfalls are paired with a booming soundtrack featuring songs like Robert “Aeolus” Myers’s “Jungle Love,” a powerful ambient track with indigenous influences not typically associated with the islands. Combined, the filmmakers aim to complete a harmonious 25-minute experience that delves into the work of notable artists featured on Aloha Got Soul.
“It will make the world aware of the diversity of music made and still being made in Hawai‘i, and in ways that can’t be expressed through the blog or in words,” Bong says. The documentary spends time with the era’s seminal artists, like Kalapana member Kirk Thompson, who went on to form the jazzy, boundary-pushing Lemuria; engineer Pierre Grill, the man behind the longest-running recording studio in Hawai‘i; and dynamite musician Mike Lundy, whose 1979 LP The Rhythm of Life is considered a “holy grail” by Aloha Got Soul standards for its rarity and Hawaiian funkiness. It also features contemporary musicians like Maryanne Ito and Nick Kaleikini, who draw on the influences of the ’70s-era legends.
In the film’s most enduring moments, artists perform their original songs in the presence of a new generation, showcasing what Aloha Got Soul is best at: making the old new again. The musicians light up at the thought of how far-reaching their songs have become in the age of the Internet—a means of distribution unfathomable when they first recorded them.
The heart of the narrative centers on these scenes, and a theme emerges as the camera follows the musicians in and out of recording studios and as they go about their daily lives. The documentary, now in post-production and set to be finished in summer 2017, easily represents the most time a film has spent covering these artists, many of whom are now in their 60s and 70s, who shaped this Hawaiian soundscape. “A lot of the story is going to revolve around the musicians, their experiences, and ultimately, their life’s purpose,” Bong says. “It talks about life, spirit, aloha, and it talks about the music, too.”
“My intention is to record my art so that when I pass on, my children and my grandchildren will know, ‘She was a musician, she had a message,'” says Hilo musician Alice Wise, a kanikapila artist with only one recorded song to her name and who is featured in the Aloha Got Soul documentary.
“The Lord keeps you ticking, he gives you a lot of material and energy. He gives you purpose and meaning, and the songs just come,” says Kirk Thompson, the founding keyboardist of Kalapana and creator of legendary band Lemuria.
Kit Ebersbach, owner of Pacific Music Productions studio.
Ward Yamashita, owner of Hungry Ear Records.
Edie Bilke, friend of the late Frank Tavares, a Maui-based musician who recorded an obscure experimental LP in the mid-1970s entitled Na Mele A Ka Haku.
Robin Kimura, leader of the 1970s band Greenwood and organizer of the 1970s Nightclub Reunion concert series that began in the early 2000s.
“Hawaiian music, a lot of it was recorded for tourists and it was just distributed here. The only way we were heard is if someone happened to be here and heard it, and then made it known somewhere else,” says longtime Honolulu entertainment writer John Berger.
“Aloha is not just a Waikīkī greeting line, it really is a mindset. The acceptance, the gentleness—it should be taught in class. It’s the only survival skill that we should learn,” says Pierre Grill, owner of Rendez-vous Recording, which welcomes aspiring artists looking to cut their first recording.
“Music can be taught in a public school no matter how rural it is, and it can be successful. That would be the legacy I’d like to leave behind. I’ve taken this small community and made the very best of it, for the community and the state, setting an example,” says Gary Washburn, who has led Honoka‘a High School’s jazz band for nearly four decades and has recorded three jazz fusion albums.
“The generation that’s coming up, they’re introducing new sounds and new ideas. On top of that, within the past few years, I’ve seen a lot of new faces coming into the islands. Our strength lies here in the music scene,” says Maryanne Ito, and up-and-coming jazz and soul singer who frequently performs in Honolulu’s Chinatown scene.
“There’s so many terrible things happening. If we interact with each other as loving human beings, then there’s peace. It radiates out. That’s what my music has been about over the years,” says Howard Shapiro (shown with his wife, Marsha Hee), a Hawai‘i Island-based musician whose band ‘Āina has addressed social and cultural issues.
The upcoming Aloha Got Soul documentary “will make the world aware of the diversity of music made and still being made in Hawai‘i, and in ways that can’t be expressed…in words,” says Roger Bong, who founded Aloha Got Soul to serve as a digitized archive of music synonymous with Hawai‘i in the 1970s and ’80s.
Brazilian film producer Pedro Rämos, who approached Bong to create the Aloha Got Soul documentary. “My perception of Hawai‘i is hula dancers, not this funk and soul sound,” Rämos says. “I thought, man, this is a whole universe.”
Filmmaker Filipe Zapelini, Aloha Got Soul documentary.
Assistant Producer Pedru Carvalho, Aloha Got Soul documentary.
“In Hawai‘i, not as many of the subgenres get as much appeal…There’s a lot of amazing jazz cats, amazing blues cats, hip-hop heads. [But] they end up performing for themselves or their friends in a small group, and yet these musicians are super talented,” says Nicholas Kaleikini, the grandson of legendary entertainer Danny Kaleikini.
“Musicians and artists and comedians become light gatherers because we walk through dark times, but to be able to express it is to let everyone know that you are not alone in this, we are all walking through some darkness,” says Hawaiian harpist Momi Riley.
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