PRESS
November 12 2008
Seattle Band Kore Ionz Has A Higher Calling That Involves Changing Lives
By Marian Liu
Seattle Times staff reporter
Their members' homelands span the globe — from Hawaii, the Virgin Islands and Bosnia-Herzegovina.
But their heart is in one place.
"I believe everybody that has the power of the microphone ... has the potential to brainwash, but also the potential to change society for the better, especially the youth," said Daniel Pak, lead singer and rhythm guitarist of Seattle band Kore Ionz.
Last week, the reggae band took that message of hope to kids detained at the King County Juvenile Detention Center for a free concert.
Dressed in matching navy-blue uniforms and orange plastic slippers, the inmates filed into the detention-center gym, where the walls bore posters with such messages as: "Life is not a game, once it's over there is no rest."
The boys followed each other in a single line, their heads were down, hands folded behind their banks. Guards flanked every side, as the youths were ordered to sit down in rows for the show.
But once Kore Ionz started playing, the mood of the room changed. Heads perked up, bobbing to the reggae beat. Then bodies swayed, hands waving to the rhythm, dancing without standing, following the order to remain seated. Even the guards were jigging.
"I came to the gym depressed. I got a lot of stuff on my mind," said J.G., a teen with messy braids. (The paper is not identifying the center's detainees since they are all juveniles.) "But this just made me happy. ... I hope to listen to them when I'm outs and go to a concert."
To the crowd ages 12 to 17, Pak yelled out, "We believe in you. That's why we're here."
Concerts are a rarity for the inmates. The only other music they get is at church.
"In here, music is a big thing for us," said another boy, initialed B.J., a baby-face teen with bright blue eyes. Kore Ionz is "a lot more relaxing than the rap I usually listen to. ... I feel motivated. I feel good."
The Seattle reggae band is also a regular at fundraisers and community centers. Half of their proceeds go to The Service Board, a nonprofit that offers life-changing programs for marginalized youth in Seattle. And all this generosity comes from a band $7,000 in debt from producing their last album independently.
It's as if the band has a higher purpose, said percussionist Paul Huppler. Growing up, he was causing a lot of trouble, too, but his participation in music saved him from being locked up.
"I hope to return the favor by being here," Huppler said about the band's detention-center performance.
The message of the music is based on Pak's insights (one example: "When you fall down, you fall forward). And their smooth beats and joyful lyrics are inspired by Bob Marley — fitting, as last month at Neumo's, they opened for the Original Wailers, which includes members of Marley's onetime band. And since the families of Kore Ionz are spread worldwide, Kore Ionz's music is not only played in Seattle but can be heard in Bosnia and the Virgin Islands.
The creation of Kore Ionz is a story of musicians — who met through friends of friends and impromptu jam sessions — finding harmony despite disparate backgrounds.
Besides hailing from hometowns clear across the world, their ages span three decades, with jobs that range from Microsoft project manager to farmer.
And each of the seven members expresses the beat in their own way. Drummer Huppler lays down the foundation, while congo players Ahkeenu Musa and Teo Shantz provide low-end tribal rhythms and accented beats.
Bouncing in the foreground is bassist Brendan De Melle, while rocking left to right is lead guitarist Nermin Osmanovic. The 32-year-old Osmanovic is tireless; in one day, he will ping from a pinball tournament, to rehearsal, to kite surfing, to work. He grew up in war-torn Bosnia and he doesn't take life for granted. "Every note he plays is like his last," said lead singer Pak.
At 51, vocalist/keyboardist Carliss Hema Pereira is the oldest. Pereira, who is a farmer, is also the jokester and the de facto leader of the group.
Finally, lead singer Pak serves as the nucleus, bringing a sense of "ohana," or family, from his native Hawaii, to the group. The 28-year-old teaches at Youngstown Cultural Arts Center and mentors a Filipino reggae band made up of high-schoolers. Congo player Musa describes Pak as someone who always see the glass full, as a "youth crusader."
"That is the battle of our lives, to change the negative to the positive," said Pak.
Which is how they formed their name, Kore Ionz.
There are negative and positive ions, explains Pak. They are often at odds with each other, that is, until they bond together — like sodium and chloride coming together in their chaos to create something positive: salt.
"When folks ask me what I do, I tell them that I am a farmer," said Pak. "I plant seeds among the youth and hopefully they will grow."
That was certainly the case for the youths at the detention center, who left with smiles, holding the albums Pak gave away for free.
"I hope they make it big," said Unna Kim, King County Juvenile Division recreation coordinator. "They have a big heart."
Marian Liu: 206-464-3825 or mliu@seattletimes.com
Copyright © 2008 The Seattle Times Company
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November 26 2008
Local Reggae Band Inspires Youths IN 'JUVY'
Category/Issue: Community, Volume 35 No. 22
Local musicians delivered a message to youths at the King County Detention Center that their dreams are not confined to the walls of their cells.
BY DIEM LY
IE Editor
At the entrance of the King County Juvenile Detention Center, a cynical, brash officer greets visitors.
"I don't know why they even bother," the security guard snickers. "Those kids are criminals and always will be."
The officer says he comes from a different generation when young people respected their mother, father and country. This view, I'd later learn, is rare among the detention center staff.
That evening, on Nov. 6, a local reggae/rock band called the KoreIonz, performed a free concert for the youths in the detention center. According to the group's lead singer and rhythm guitarist, Daniel Pak, the message was simple: "Let the kids know there's someone out there who cares about them," says Pak. "And
that their dreams are not confined to the walls of their cells."
The KoreIonz—an eclectic group of Bosnian, Jamaican, African, Caucasian, and
Korean members—performed twice that night, for two groups, while staff looked on. Some youths expressed little reaction to the music. Others bopped their heads to the beat and danced in their seats. One staff member looking on was overheard saying, "They need to come back!"
In between sessions, Pak, 28, interacts with the teens, ages 12-17, asking questions
about their interests, dreams, and whether they're familiar with reggae. He spoke to the youths as if he was an older brother, delivering the message that every individual has the ability to transform the path of their life.
The local, seven-member band, whose music is inspired by the legendary Bob Marley, performed at the popular Capital Hill venue, Neumo's last month. KoreIonz band members are an example of how people from very diverse backgrounds and experiences can 'harmonize' toward a common cause: bringing people together through music.
While some judge at-risk youth as future criminals—Pak, along with his bandmates, like Ahkeenu Musa, see the young people, regardless of the circumstances they're currently in, as individuals and members of a society were all responsible for.
"We believe that the youth can put their mind to anything," says Musa,
a West African Koreionz bandmate who plays the congos. "Music is something they can put their energy into. We want to be role models."
Aldrin Cornel, one of the King County Detention Center officers and a Filipino American, says his experience as a youth motivated his career path.
"I grew up hanging out with gang people," says Cornel. "I wanted to work in a job that could change lives. We want to mentor them—that's ideal."
Cornel, along with other staff, agree their role is that of a mentor. "You got to be there for them," says Cornel. "Here, we're like their mom and dad."
Most of the youths observed that night were Caucasian and African American–along with a few Hispanic and API youths. Cornel says Asian Americans are fewer in number and are brought to 'juvy' in a seasonal pattern. He assumes during the school year, when the Asian numbers are lowest in the detention, the API youths are in school and less likely to get into trouble or get caught. During the summer, he says, the API numbers swell.
At any given time, the youth in the King County Detention Center number between 75-90, according to Cornel. Less than a quarter of the youth in the audience that night were female. When asked how the girls felt about the music and the band's message, one female teen says, " It's powerful—really gets you to like the music." Another says, "It's nice because we don't get music here at all." The girls chattered at once, exclaiming they wanted a copy of the band's CD and appreciated the inspirational message of transformation.
According to the officers, most of the teens are in detention due to convictions for burglary and assault. Once processed into the system, youths are detained in a small cell with furnishings not a far cry from an adult prison. A thin, green mattress is their only comfort, aside from a metal toilet and mirror. Education provided by the Seattle Public School District, a library with computers, and a small courtyard round out the youth's daily activities. Few share a cell with another teen.
These young people are forced to face the consequences of their unlawful acts, but they're not lost causes. Not a single one of them. Enter Koreionz. They've been performing for two hours and Pak is sweating through his brown t-shirt. His long hair is shaken loose and he takes a moment after the performances to greet each teen.
"Although they're surrounded by concrete walls, we're here for them," says a breathless Pak. "They all have the power to make change in their lives. It's important for them to understand that there are people out there who care about them."
While a minority of people in the community—even some officers expected to serve the youth at their most vulnerable and impressionable period—will plague these teens with cynicism and judgment, the message is to think and unite as a society and fight for those we're responsible for. The youth of our community need us and the KoreIonz cannot stand alone.
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January 1st 2009
IN HARMONY
BY Michelle Woo
It's a reminder that music has the power to break through walls, even ones made of steel and concrete at the King County Juvenile Detention Center.
Standing on stage with a microphone and a guitar, Daniel Pak poses a question to the audience, which on this day, consists of rows of young inmates in navy blue uniforms, many hunched in their plastic chairs.
“Do you know why we're here?” he says, panning the gymnasium.
No one says a word.
“We're here because of you.”
Pak is the long-haired, gentle-spoken frontman of Kore Ionz, a Seattle-based reggae band that infuses its music with messages of social awareness, global unity and hope for future generations. It's artistic expression with a cause: Half of the proceeds from the group's debut album, Half-hour Revolution, will be donated to The Service Board, a nonprofit organization that provides mentorship and community service opportunities to marginalized youth in South Seattle.
“We use music as a vessel for social change,” says Pak, 28, who met the seven members of the multi-ethnic band through various charity projects. “We only hope that the intentions of unconditional giving will become more viral. It's the only way to progress to a different world.”
The musicians have gigged with acclaimed reggae artists such as Bob Marley's Original Wailers and Jamaica's Eek-A-Mouse, but dedicate much of their time to off-the-circuit charity performances, such as their free concert at the juvenile detention center. As part of a voluntary project with The Service Board, Pak teaches music four days a week. He says he gives back to the community not because he wants to, but because he has to.
For Pak, growing up in Honolulu, music was more than a hobby — it was life. It connected individuals. It linked generations.
“The word kanikapila refers to a bunch of friends getting together at the beach and sharing songs and just jamming,” says Pak, whose father was a jazz keyboardist. “It was just this culture we had.”
Today, he aims to teach students how to use the most important instrument they'll ever use: their ear.
During some of his music classes, all he does is listen.
“I'll sit with students while they cry and tell me what's going on in their lives,” he says. “I come to class, keep my ears open and my arms open. More than anything, I like to see myself as a big brother. I always tell them, ‘You teach me more than I teach you. You give me inspiration.'”
Kore Ionz, made of Pak, Carliss “Hema” Pereira, Nermin Osmanovic, Ahkeenu Musa, Brendan Demelle, Paul Huppler and Teo Shantz, fuses reggae with dynamic rock and world rhythms, producing high-energy grooves that you can't help but sway and wave your hands to. That's exactly what the inmates at the King County Juvenile Detention Center started doing as the band got into the set. They were doused with lyrics of hope such as, “When we fall, we fall forward and relearn to crawl.”
“These kids were born into a situation that I will never understand,” says Pak, adding that he hopes to return to the center. “They're born into homes with meth addicts and prostitutes. But they're old enough to know what their dreams are. We tell them, ‘We're here. Come search us out.' We want them to know that outside of those walls, there are people who care about them.”
At the end of the performance, Pak asked the audience the same question: “Do you know why we're here?”
And they knew.
“Because of us,” they shouted.
—Michelle Woo
How to help: Kore Ionz is looking for motivated, energetic, and conscientious volunteers to get involved in the movement. For information, email info@koreionz.com. For information on The Service Board, visit www.theserviceboard.org.
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Booking & Management:
Daniel Pak
Kore Ion Music
P.O. Box 28111
Seattle, WA 98118
(206) 420-4279
booking@koreionz.com
Comments or suggestions? Send mail to ossi@ieee.org
