The second installment of the RILMiniscences series features Terence Ford, a former editor-in-chief, who remembers that the organization’s greatest strength was its people. Ford joined RILM in 1981 after beginning graduate studies in musicology at the City University of New York. Like many graduate students at the time, he was assigned to work on one of three major music documentation projects: RILM, the iconography project that would later become one of the four R projects, Répertoire International d’Iconographie Musicale (RIdIM), or the music collections project. Ford’s first assignment was in iconography, a role that took him to Germany before he returned to New York to join the RILM staff.
Although Ford was simultaneously writing a dissertation, he eventually made the difficult decision to stop working on it. Instead, he forged a career at RILM, beginning as an assistant editor before becoming an editor and, eventually, editor-in-chief from 1989 to 1991. After leaving RILM, he worked for the Modern Language Association and later retrained as a psychoanalyst, a profession he practices today in Los Angeles. Looking back, however, what stands out most to Ford is not the career trajectory but the overall atmosphere of the RILM office itself.
During the 1980s, RILM occupied the third floor of a building on Manhattan’s 42nd Street, where its relatively small staff worked closely together each day. The close quarters fostered friendships that extended beyond professional titles and responsibilities. “RILM back then was like a family,” Ford recalls. As the organization expanded and moved to the tenth floor alongside other music department offices—including that of RILM founder Barry S. Brook–the sense of community endured. Even after Ford’s responsibilities shifted from editing to supervising editors and reviewing their work, the office retained its convivial atmosphere.
Central to creating this environment was Dorothy Curzon, a managing editor whom Ford affectionately describes as the “mother of the office”. Impeccably dressed, elegantly perfumed, and never without beautifully styled hair, Curzon embodied professionalism. She was also a gifted editor and teacher who trained many of RILM’s early influential editors, often emphasizing precision, consistency, and clarity. One of her rituals left a lasting impression on Ford: every payday, Curzon walked around the office personally handing each employee their paycheck and thanking them individually for their work. As Ford puts it, “Dorothy was so good at making everyone feel appreciated.”
Besides Curzon, the RILM office was filled with other memorable personalities. Rosalie McQuade, a full-time editor, was also a nun who commuted daily from a convent in New Jersey. McQuade carpooled with fellow sisters–some of whom worked at the United Nations–and became known in the office for her singing abilities, especially a song she wrote and often sang titled Buckle up, New Jersey! inspired by her observations that few motorists on the New Jersey highways wore seatbelts. Carl Skoggard was another significant figure in the RILM office. Skoggard handled many of the German-language abstracts and possessed remarkable linguistic abilities. Hidden behind rows of filing cabinets in a corner of the office, he would periodically emerge with an unexpected, humorous story that left everyone laughing.
There was also Adam O’Connor, whose dry wit enlivened the RILM office. O’Connor, who would later become RILM’s editor-in-chief, had an uncanny ability to switch effortlessly between editing abstracts and reading The New Yorker, Harper’s, or The New York Review of Books, seemingly never missing anything despite dividing his attention. Of course, not every relationship was always harmonious. Ford remembers frequent disagreements in the RILM office based on differing views reflecting wider debates and philosophies within bibliography about how knowledge should be organized and what indexing systems should be used.
During his time at RILM, Ford noted that several publishers and information companies, such as EBSCO and H. W. Wilson Company, recognized RILM’s value and expressed interest in acquiring it, though no sale was ever finalized. What set RILM apart was not just its growing reputation but the dedicated individuals behind its success. More than three decades later, while technologies and editorial workflows have evolved into digital formats, Ford’s most cherished memories center on the people who made up the organization and the relationships that turned the editorial office into a vibrant community rather than just a workplace.
This post is based on an interview conducted with Terence Ford on 16 January 2026.
Afrobeat, hip hop, and Nigerian activism
Nigerian music genres, particularly Afrobeat, have historically sparked social consciousness, with Fela Anikulapo Kuti as a prominent figure. His energetic performances aimed to confront oppressive regimes in Nigeria and beyond, addressing neocolonial influences from Western powers. Despite facing assaults and imprisonment, Fela remained dedicated to his enduring belief that an artist’s role extends beyond entertainment; it includes provoking public thought and raising awareness about social issues. His commitment to these ideals has left a lasting impact on the cultural and political landscape of Nigeria.
Fela remained a steadfast opponent of Nigerian military rulers until his death in 1997. While some musicians have attempted to carry the torch of his activist legacy, few have been able to mobilize a significant following or resonate with the public as he did. Other genres, like Nigerian hip hop, have often faced criticism for promoting misogyny, materialism, and hedonism. In contrast, Fela’s counterculture has evolved into a broader global movement, gaining traction alongside the rising international popularity of Nigerian hip hop, now widely recognized as “Afrobeats.”
One musician who has taken up this challenge is Falz (Folarin Falana), a dynamic Nigerian artist who combines humor with bold social commentary in his music. Like Fela, he uses his art to spotlight societal issues and foster awareness aimed at inspiring positive change. The son of renowned human rights lawyer Femi Falana and his wife, Funmi Falana, a lawyer and advocate in her own right, Falz initially trained as a lawyer before pursuing music, reminiscent of Fela’s own journey. Gaining fame through humorous social media skits that critique everyday Nigerian life, Falz’s music has evolved to address pressing social problems, urging ordinary Nigerians to recognize their role in perpetuating state repression and to advocate for change.
Falz initially garnered attention as a humorist on social media, creating skits that satirize everyday Nigerian life. As his music career progressed, his performances became more impactful, drawing inspiration from Fela both musically and politically. In his songs, Falz tackles pressing social issues in Nigeria and encourages listeners to actively resist and advocate for change. Notably, Falz emphasizes the collective responsibility of ordinary Nigerians, highlighting how the broader populace contributes to the state repression faced by citizens.
This according to “Re-imagining Afrobeat(s): Juxtaposing Fela and Falz’s social commentary and lyrical activism”, by Paul Ayodele Onanuga (African identities 23/3 [2025] 584–603; RILM Abstracts of Music Literature, 2025-1229).
Below are two Falz music videos.
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Filed under Africa, Performers, Politics, Popular music
Tagged as Africa, Afrobeat, Hip hop, Hip hop music, Humor, Nigeria, Politics, Rap music, social commentary