Chapter 06
Honiara and the Pacific Circuit
9 min
At a Honiara concert, the first bass note can tell the crowd which musical world is arriving. A rounded reggae line invites the body to settle behind the beat. A dancehall pattern pushes forward. An R&B singer leaves space around a high phrase. A rapper compresses Pijin into sharp rhythmic cells. A producer drops the full arrangement away for a vocal hook, then returns with drums designed for a large outdoor system.
What to listen for
The capital's scene is broad because Honiara is a city of provincial connections. Musicians bring languages and family histories from Malaita, Guadalcanal, Isabel, Western Province, Choiseul, Makira, Temotu, Central and Rennell and Bellona. Studios turn those relationships into tracks. Concerts place local artists beside visitors from Papua New Guinea, Vanuatu, Fiji, New Caledonia, Jamaica, Australia and New Zealand.
Reggae is central, yet “Solomon reggae” is not one beat. Roots bass, lovers rock, dancehall, island pop, electronic dance production and hip-hop overlap. Some songs use Pijin; others use English or a local language. Harmony can recall church or string-band blend. Production can be spare and warm or bright and compressed for phone speakers.
Onetox and the reach of “Ramukanji”
Onetox's “Ramukanji” became one of the defining Pacific tracks of its era. The groove is immediate, the refrain easy to carry, and the vocal blend gives the song a communal lift. Its reach across borders came through radio, copied files, performances and online circulation. Listeners in several Pacific countries made it part of their own social lives.
The track demonstrates how a Honiara band can sound locally grounded and regionally open. Reggae provides a shared frame, while accent, vocal phrasing and audience history place the performance. Popularity does not make it a generic island song. Onetox's credit remains the point of entry.
Members and collaborators moved through later groups and projects. That fluidity is typical of a small but active scene: one singer may appear in a band, a duo, a feature and a production crew. Tracking credits reveals a network under the artist names.
DMP makes collaboration structural
DMP, also known as Doorman's Project, developed from Honiara into one of the most visible Solomon Islands reggae bands. Its albums move from Projectile and Square One through Wine Up, Life Is A Road Vol. 1 and Long Way Home. The catalogue joins soulful group vocals to roots reggae, faster island rhythms and international features.
“Hustle Harder,” made with Jamaican artist Anthony B, is a strong point of entry. The collaboration does not use Jamaica as a decorative stamp. Two reggae lineages meet through alternating vocal identities and a shared rhythmic language. The video and song connect Honiara's streets to a wider reggae audience while keeping DMP's home visible.
“Long Way Home” with Iyaz and “One Life” with Demarco extend the pattern. Guest appearances introduce the band to new audiences, but its ensemble character remains in the harmonies and melodic choices. DMP's live work adds another dimension: voices that can be layered in a studio must be redistributed across performers on stage.
JAHBOY, Jaro Local and the individual voice
JAHBOY's “Babylove” places a clear lead voice inside a relaxed reggae frame. His catalogue ranges beyond one subgenre, including covers, romantic songs and collaborations. “Island Moon” with Justin Wellington and “LOYAL” with Jeeno and Baka Solomon show how one singer moves through the regional session network.
Jaro Local, the artist name of Jeremy Saeni, builds songs around language and story. “Dakini Tangarareh” became a Pacific award winner and a widely recognised calling card. The vocal is melodic and direct, while the title itself asks listeners outside the language to approach the song on its own terms.
His work as founder and organiser of Bonfire Festival expands the artist role. Booking a bill, coordinating travel, sound, security and sponsorship creates infrastructure for other musicians. In Honiara, scene building often depends on performers who also become promoters, producers and mentors.
Jaro Local's career makes cultural pride active. Singing in one's own language is not a retreat from international ambition. It gives a track a centre from which to travel. Audiences can respond to tone and groove while local listeners receive every layer of the words.
Sharzy connects Simbo, Roviana and the region
Sharzy's long career began in a band and grew through albums, tours and multilingual songwriting. Born on Simbo, with family connections extending to Malaita, he has recorded in Simbo, Roviana, Pijin, Tok Pisin and English. That range reflects a Pacific audience built through relation, not a marketing costume.
“Ta'umai” is one accessible beginning. “Solwara Meri,” “Aelan Wei,” “Resa Meri” and “Dancing the Night Away” lead through other moments in his catalogue. His melodies favour a strong singable centre, and the arrangements often let guitar rhythm and vocal warmth carry the track.
Regional collaboration can blur geography in broad summaries. Sharzy's use of Tok Pisin does not make him Papua New Guinean. A guest from Vanuatu does not turn a Solomon track into Vanuatu music. The performer and work credits let shared language remain a bridge without becoming a mistaken passport.
Women move from choir and community group to studio centre
Sisiva's “Tutuani” gives an Isabel women-led band a durable popular recording. Earlier accounts of Honiara's scene described the four women achieving regional popularity and performing in Vanuatu. Their presence matters because band histories too often treat women as backing voices or audience members. Sisiva claimed the group credit.
Rosie Delmah reached a wide audience through her reggae version of “Hello.” The song is a cover, and that status is part of its musical meaning. She takes a globally known melody, changes its rhythmic body and places a Solomon voice at the centre. Current Honiara festival lineups show that her career is not only an online moment.
MiYah works in a newer studio environment. “Rabisim Mi” brings her lead vocal into a polished blend of reggae, pop and electronic production. “Lucky” and “Noghu Nama” extend that direction, while her 2026 work includes “OFO NIGHO” with JayMos and “Unpredictable” with Baka Solomon. Recording at Shefram Studio places her inside the same network that supports Onetox, DMP and Dehvande while preserving her independent artist identity.
Women also remain essential in gospel groups, choirs, cultural organisations and family teaching. Commercial visibility is only one measure of musical labour. The movement from a church microphone to a studio booth can provide breath control and harmony skill, but a woman does not need a pop release to count as a musician.
Hip-hop and Pijin change the shape of the beat
Hip-hop in Solomon Islands can use English, Pijin or local-language phrases, each with different rhythmic possibilities. Pijin compresses some ideas into quick cells and lets familiar speech carry humour or challenge. A rapper can sit ahead of a reggae bass line, ride a trap pattern or alternate with a sung chorus.
Baka Solomon's “What Na U Saveh?” offers a rap-inflected Pijin example. The title is conversational and pointed. Production leaves room for verbal rhythm, while the hook gives the track a social, repeatable edge. His collaborations with JAHBOY, Sean Rii and other artists show that rap is embedded in the wider studio scene. “Unpredictable,” made with MiYah and released in March 2026, brings two artists already active inside that network together.
Artists such as 56 Hop Rod and younger Honiara performers bring rap into festival bills that also contain roots reggae, island pop and string-band tributes. Genre boundaries are practical labels for listeners; performers cross them during one set. A DJ can make those crossings smooth.
Electronic production is an instrument room
A digital studio may contain few acoustic instruments, yet it still requires ensemble thinking. The producer selects drum attacks, tunes bass, stacks voices and decides how much space remains around a phrase. Samples and software instruments become parts with defined responsibilities. Good production makes the arrangement breathe even when every sound can be placed on a grid.
MiYah's electronic-reggae blend, DJ-led festival sets and current pop releases show this practice. Sean Rii and Dezine move among reggae, dancehall, Afrobeats, R&B and pop, adapting vocal tone to each production. Small Jam's catalogue links former Onetox and DMP singers to compact, highly portable studio songs.
Small Jam and a song that travelled the world
Small Jam brought together Mosten Hani and Heston Kiu from the DMP and Onetox network. Songs such as “December,” “Reggae Party” and “Cheater's Song” established the duo before the collaboration with Papua New Guinean artist Justin Wellington.
Their version of “Iko Iko (My Bestie)” became an international hit. The underlying song has a history outside Solomon Islands, so the achievement lies in this performance and arrangement, not in claiming original authorship. The track joins Wellington's lead identity to Small Jam's Pacific vocal energy and a light, danceable production suited to short video circulation.
Its success illustrates a new kind of circulation. Earlier songs travelled by boat, tape and radio. This one moved through dance clips and online sharing at extraordinary speed. The human network still came first: singers knew one another through Pacific music, studios and touring.
Honiara stages and the live calendar
Bonfire Festival has used Heritage Park Hotel and Pacific Crown Hotel, bringing Solomon artists together with regional guests. Aelan Riddim Music Festival at Pacific Crown joined performers from Papua New Guinea to Onetox, Rosie Delmah, Jammin, Ramo and many others. New Year's Eve concerts have placed DMP, Onetox, JAHBOY, Sharzy, Sean Rii and visiting reggae figures on major bills.
Hotel grounds function as large concert spaces because they can support ticketing, security, bars, sound systems and visitors. Heritage Park and Pacific Crown are significant anchors, while King Solomon Hotel advertises weekend live music and a credited cultural group. A useful visitor checks the current bill; lineups and nights change.
SIBC and Wantok FM remain essential for hearing what a one-off event cannot show. Radio presenters connect new singles, string bands, public announcements and listener requests. The National Museum and Cultural Centre offers historical orientation and contacts, though it should not be treated as a guaranteed nightly stage.
The Pacific circuit works in both directions
Solomon artists tour Papua New Guinea, Vanuatu, Fiji, New Caledonia, Australia and beyond. Visiting artists come to Honiara. Diaspora listeners sustain demand in Brisbane, Auckland and other cities. A collaboration may be recorded in one country, mixed in another and released for an audience spread across several.
Wantok relation helps explain the warmth of these circuits, especially where Pijin, Tok Pisin and Bislama allow partial mutual understanding. Yet the term is not a genre. A PNG reggae singer, Vanuatu pop artist and Solomon hip-hop producer can share a stage while remaining musically and politically distinct.
Honiara's strength is this capacity for encounter. The city does not flatten every origin when credits are handled with care. It lets Simbo language, Malaita panpipe history, Isabel women's band work, Jamaican reggae, PNG collaboration and electronic studio craft meet in public. The result is a scene whose variety sounds like the archipelago that built it.
