Beginning his career as a 17 year old college student in New York’s Lower East Side, McFarlane Anthony McKay – who at that time just went by Tony – had traveled from his native island to the States in order to study architecture. While attending school, McKay fell under the spell of Joseph Spence’s music. The influence wasn’t so much aural as it was cultural. Spence too came from the Bahamas and had been embraced by the nascent folk revival.
McKay soon formed a group and performed around the Greenwich Village folk scene. Often times, he found himself on the same bill as a young Bob Dylan or Richie Havens. Perhaps partially due to the company he kept, the manager of the Blues Magoos signed McKay and helped him ink a deal with Mercury Records.
In 1970 a pair of McKay’s discs were released via the label, but by this point he had become Exuma. Incorporating folk elements found in the American scene as a well as a strong island influence that included tribal drumming, percussion, a strong calypso and junkanoo sound, Exuma didn’t establish a huge audience.
His new persona was taken from the moniker of a spirit as well as an “Afro-Carribean tradition of socery.” Perhaps in this appropriation can be found the reason for Exuma’s lackluster album sales. Even during the death pangs of the new America that was promised during the ‘60s, the following decade was marked by an overt notion of doom. And the inclusion of foreign shamanistic names and such probably didn’t mix well with the newly emerging American perspective. It is curious to note, though, that at roughly the same time Fela Kuti was mix much of the same elements as Exuma in a funk context to more success – of course, having Ginger Baker on your first album probably helps.
With these lackluster sales, Exuma and Mercury soon parted, allowing the performer to sign with Kama Sutra. This relationship would lead to the release of several albums. And while Exuma’s first two albums didn’t sell too many copies, these subsequent releases garnered less attention. After his relationship with Kama Sutra ended in the mid ‘70s, Exuma really didn’t record for a major label again. He would produce a few self released albums that were collected by ROIR during the late ‘70s, but the following decade would not yield success in the States.
During all of this, Exuma’s popularity grew on his native island, where he was always able to perform in a conducive and supportive atmosphere. His career, though, wouldn’t ever take off. And looking back, Exuma would be able to say that he toured with some seminal outfits during his hey-day. But his death in 1997 unfortunately passed without all too much fan fare from the press.

