Aya Nakamura, the international face of Caribbean Zouk ?

This is a rhetorical question because we all agree that yes, she is. And just in case we had any doubts, the Caribbean Music Awards confirmed it.

On June 10th, the awards ceremony unveiled the 2026 edition’s list of categories and nominations. Aya Nakamura has been nominated in the “French Caribbean Artist of the Year” and “French Caribbean Song of the Year” categories. Whether the category is translated as “French Caribbean Artist of the Year,” “Artist of the Year from the French Caribbean,” “Artist of the Year from the Francophone Caribbean,” or “French Artist of the Year from the Caribbean”… her inclusion would only be justified if non-Caribbean artists in genres like dancehall, reggae, or soca were also competing in other categories against local Caribbean artists. In any case, the real problem here isn’t Aya Nakamura, who shines performing Zouk and is recognized as such by Caribbean communities. The problem is that, despite all the fine words since 2021 about the failed branding of our Zouk, artists and so-called experts still haven’t reversed this trend. So the problem has been identified, but still no solution in FIVE YEARS??? Even worse, as I’ve been documenting for the past five years, their statements in the media expose their incompetence in the music business, and they’ve become the enemies of their own success.

It’s been a week since the nominations for the 2026 Caribbean Music Awards were announced. I was expecting at least a semblance of constructive analysis of the situation from your (Afro)French media outlets, which have been churning out pointless pieces on “Zouk isn’t dead” for at least five years. All I hear is the croaking of frogs on a Lenten evening. While the Caribbean music industry is trying to build its own legitimacy and visibility, Guadeloupe—and to a lesser extent, Martinique—remains deliberately on the sidelines. Either by pursuing careers in musical genres created by others, or by remaining stuck in nostalgia for a glory whose true magnitude they fail to grasp. The reality has been the same for five generations: OUR Zouk sells. The question has been the same for five generations: why do the artistic, media, and above all, economic benefits go to others and not to us?

I launched #streamcaribbean in 2021, so I’ve been keeping track of the media fiasco surrounding Zouk in Guadeloupe and Martinique… Whether it’s in private on WhatsApp or publicly on social media, we’re sick and tired of pointless debates about how “Zouk used to be better,” “retro Zouk is the real Zouk,” and “today’s Zouk is too boring.” “We”, as in the audiences in Guadeloupe and Martinique who believe in the cultural, artistic, and economic viability of our Zouk. “We” as in our marketing, branding, and storytelling professionals who understand European and/or American systems and want to put their knowledge to work for a dynamic ecosystem. Perhaps experts from the South Korean system will start making a name for themselves. I refuse to believe that I’m the only one with this expertise. In any case, I’m sure there are people ready to bring our artists’ vision to life for a Caribbean industry. There are people who want to invest in our Zouk and in the Caribbean market. But our artists would still need to be willing to listen to the right people… And they would still need to have a vision to bring to life.

For the past five years, there has been an ambivalent discourse surrounding the Zouk of Guadeloupe and Martinique. There have been numerous documentaries, interviews, and roundtable discussions in which so-called defenders of our Zouk have undermined the branding and storytelling that Pierre-Edouard Décimus and Kassav’ had painstakingly built up during the 20th century. I’m not saying that the French music industry hasn’t put obstacles in the way of the generations that emerged starting in the late ’90s. But it’s 2026, and here we are with Aya Nakamura being named Artist of the Year for the French Caribbean at a ceremony organized by and for Caribbean people. It’s as if the BET Awards were nominating Aya Nakamura in the category of American Rapper/R&B Singer of the Year. If we’re going to go that far, we might as well create a “French Caribbean Inspiration” category to include Aya Nakamura, TayC, Dadju, and those influenced by the zouk and konpa of their teenage years, instead of leaving the space we’ve left vacant… And the worst part is that Aya Nakamura is in no way responsible for this situation—and she couldn’t care less about it anyway (and rightly so). When are the so-called Zouk “experts” going to take responsibility and admit that they’ve been spouting nonsense for 30 years? It’s way too easy to baselessly bash the “West Indian” audience without providing any serious marketing research to explain the current state of our Zouk from the audience’s perspective. On the other hand, the business side of things should be a top priority for improvement. We’re tired of seeing the real business issues swept under the rug in favor of the same old discourse of artistic self-denigration, which reveals, at best, a lack of understanding of the music business, and at worst, an internalized anti-Caribbean sentiment… 

Instead of bashing the audience, why don’t artists go tell it like it is to the gatekeepers of the French music industry—whose approval they seek? We’re still being bombarded with Dadju’s “I Hate Zouk,” which pitted Aya Nakamura against “West Indian” artists. No one is calling out the pseudo-experts on “West Indian” culture in the Afro-French media. We’re being bombarded with fragmented analyses claiming there’s no cultural appropriation when Afro-French artists shine with our music. Everyone rushes to appear on radio show Planète Rap and at the Flammes ceremony awards, which praise the virtues of “West Indian” culture one week and look down on us the next… But where is that energy to create our own marketing strategies? Where is that energy to establish a positive narrative in French about our music and our audience? Where is that energy to develop an international network to our advantage? The few artists from our community who are still trying to build a career with our Zouk are brainwashed by their so-called friends in the industry, who prevent them from broadening their horizons in terms of branding and storytelling—so they end up begging for SYMBOLIC recognition when they’re worth so much more than that. 

Our Zouk is worth so much more than that. Our music as a whole deserves so much more than that. Meryl was in tears during her acceptance speech at the Flammes ceremony for her Best Caribbean or Caribbean-Inspired Song award. She said that “the spirit of Siméon is not dead,” referring to Euzhan Palcy’s film... That phrasing alone shows just how fractured the mindset of our artists, journalists, and other music professionals has become. No matter the artistic field, today’s achievements fall short of the level reached by the 20th-century generation—a level that should be our standard, rather than one we belittle to console ourselves for failing to reach it. Why this refusal to follow the path already blazed by Pierre-Edouard Décimus and charted by Kassav’? I’m not saying we should artistically copy Kassav’. I’m saying that our artists should study the Kassav’ philosophy to understand the fundamentals of the mindset needed to have a long and successful career… 

In three years, Zouk will celebrate its 50th anniversary. I’m sure you’ll have the nerve to ask Aya Nakamura to come sing in tribute to Kassav’… And your (Afro)French media will be there to lecture us yet again on our so-called xenophobia because we’ll have been able to applaud Aya Nakamura AND regret not having local artists to make our Zouk shine… Because the worst part of all this is that even the symbolic recognition begged for over the past five years was ultimately granted only to Kassav’. I’m not saying that Kassav’ begged for this recognition. I’m saying they’re among the few who’ve held their heads high and can now speak without bitterness today. Those who begged for symbolic recognition move forward with a colonial filter over their eyes and are afraid to grant the cultures of Guadeloupe and Martinique the same value—or even greater value—than they give to the cultures of others. How can anyone think they’re on top of the world because of a gold record or a million social media followers, yet they have zero cultural impact and get disrespected in the cultural industries—even at the national level? How can anyone have such low standards and criteria for success? How can anyone be satisfied with the crumbs the industry leaves us when we’re the ones producing the raw material? 

I don’t have a conclusion. I refuse to draw a conclusion because I still believe that at least one Zouk artist from our community will work on their branding, storytelling, and marketing to continue writing this chapter of our musical history. I hope our bitter industry professionals will learn to keep their mouths shut in the media. I hope that young people eager for visibility will stop using Zouk to claim legitimacy as music experts when they’re simply conforming to the colonial filter. I hope that the voices of those who document Zouk with respect and conviction will gain more prominence online and encourage the younger generation to finally take up the torch from Kassav’. I hope this revival will show that the last 30 years of wandering are an example of what NOT to do. If the current frustration is the price we must pay so that future generations of artists can pull themselves together and take our Zouk further, so be it.