I (Jon de Mello, Israel's producer) grew up in the heart of Waikiki. Lewers Street to be exact. In 1959, James Michener was tapping out his blockbuster novel, Hawai‘i , next door, while my father, Jack de Mello, was marrying the classic music of the islands with symphony orchestras from London to Japan. Hawai‘i was about to become a state and Israel Kamakawiwo‘ole was about to be born.
Fast forward to the 1990s. When Israel and I got together, he was in his thirties, and Hawai’i had become part of the big world.
All his life, IZ had been making his own kind of Hawaiian music. He played a simple instrument, the ‘ukulele, just four strings, and he was happy to play three-chord songs in just two keys, C and G–what you could call “barefoot music.”
There came a time when he wanted more. He had matured, and he wanted to connect musically with the world. He looked at me and said: “Put shoes on me.”
We recorded five albums together before he died in 1997–different kinds of new shoes for IZ.
A few years ago, listening to the music we had made, it came to me that I could hear him singing with a full orchestra–a rich sound, with depth, leaving space for his iconic voice.
It worked like a charm. His song is alive.
IZ had a message, and it is in his music. He wanted a human community without boundaries, where people everywhere took care of each other. That was his Wonderful World. “Dis music,” he said, “is feelings dat goin’ las’ fo’eva.”.
