Author: Bob Perfect

  • Maramza: Low-key but Kwaai-fi

    “Low-key” is a phrase Maramza uses multiple times in our half-hour phone call interview and it’s an apt way to describe the ever-evolving producer. I’ve met Maramza, real name Richard Rumney, a few times and he’s always struck me as the quiet, reserved and observant type – someone who would rather listen than talk. When he does talk, it’s usually to ask a question so he can get some insight to process whatever it is he’s already thinking. So that I managed to get half an hour of conversation out of him is quite something. “I’m very introverted, I guess I’m shy, you know?” He explains when I ask him if he considers himself an introspective cat. “I don’t drink, I used to but I don’t anymore. I’ve been partying for over 20 years so when I’m out now, I’m just there and observing, listening to the music and chat to a few people, but I’m not like “Yo, this is my best life, I’m outchea.” That ended a long time ago. Since I’ve been doing Maramza, it’s been like that. The thing with Maramza, the whole idea was to be low-key. When I first started it was this incognito, low-key thing. I was just kinda not feeling Richard The Third and wanted to release a very different style of music. Originally, no-one knew who I was. But then people showed interest and I was like “Now I want the gigs and I want to be known.” If anything, now I want to go back to being low-key again. Which is kinda weird now that I’m on the Bubblegum Club cover.”

    Originally from Joburg, Maramza, then known as Richard The Third, moved to Cape Town in the early 2000s to be part of the fresh wave of electronic music in South Africa. “In the 2000s, I was very inspired by Cape Town electronic music and I think that was a general feeling in Joburg, that Cape Town were the guys who were doing the most forward thinking shit at that time.” He tells me. “African Dope, Real Estate Agents, Felix Laband, Lark and even Goldfish, they were just doing the coolest shit, you know? and I was very inspired by that and that’s essentially why I moved to Cape Town, I wanted to be a part of that. When I got there that was probably the tail end of that era, moving into the kind of Discoteque, electro era and the dubstep era.”

    The move did Maramza well and he soon found himself deep in a flourishing Cape Town scene he’d admired from afar, “For me, it felt like there were days when all of us in that scene were lucky. Discoteque was a weekly event, the dubstep parties were quite regular, it felt like there were quite a lot of venues, for a whole lot of us it just felt like a lot was going on club wise, event wise there was a very enthusiastic vibe happening, and there was just a lot to do.”

    Since then, things have changed a lot in Cape Town. On a commercial level, people are following the global 4/4 to the floor resurgence, and in the underground, young folks are more politically conscious, and aware of identity, privilege, and power. Maramza makes note of this, “I feel that in Cape Town a lot of young people are woke now, you know? They’ve awoken and are looking at things, and a lot of young people are angry and they see things differently. I think similar groups of people hanging out in the 2000s weren’t so concerned or conscious of it, now they are. Especially around race, gender and sexuality. Not being okay with the way things are, justifiably, and not wanting to support things that aren’t willing to change in that way. As a result, I think there’s a transition, I’m hoping that we see the change now. There’s a crew called 021 Lit, there’re Uppercut parties on a Friday, and when you look at those, at the audience there and actually the DJs themselves, and you feel like, now I’m older now- I’m a guy who has been doing this for a long time- I look at that and think “This is what younger people wanna see. These are the DJs they want to see get put on and who they want to see become successful, who they want to hear making music.””

    Adjusting to a scene whose identity is shifting away from your demographic can often be met with resistance. When asked how he’s adapted to the change in culture over the years, Maramza answered thoughtfully, “I think the simple answer is that you just need to be low-key, as low-key as possible. If you’re an older white guy, pull yourself away from any feeling of being offended, or wanting to see things in a certain way, or feeling miffed because things aren’t a certain way. Invariably, that’s going to be your privileged, old-school perspective coming through and that’s just not going to help. You’ve gotta lose that shit, just drop it, it’s gonna cause problems.”

    dj maramza x bubblegum club

    It seems Maramza has learned a lot since being called out for culturally appropriating gqom, “I had this thing when gqom started blowing up, I was like “This is so dope, I want to do my own version of this” and I was actually called out on it online in an article. It really got me thinking, “Fuck, well, that’s true. I can’t do that.””  Maramza has since moved away from the sound and is more aware of his place in the world. “I’ve been very lucky, I am privileged, I’ve had a lot of things work out the way I’ve wanted. I just need to listen to other people and connect with the right people, that’s very important. It’s about proximity. Who do you spend your time with? Who are you listening to? You can’t force that but I think if your intention is out there to be like “I don’t want to be in a world that’s a white privilege bubble”, as much as that’s automatically where I fit in, especially in Cape Town, but if you put the intention out there, you’re more likely to be opening up and connecting with people that aren’t a part of that bubble and they will make you think differently.”

    Maramza’s low-key vibe is also about putting others on. When asked what he’s currently working on, he casually replied with “Not much”, and proceeded to tell me more about other artists than his own music. “I started a kinda label project towards the end of last year called “Kwaai-fi”, and I want to do that which really looks to highlight corners of scenes in Cape Town that I think could do with a bit more love and I also would personally think would be nice to connect together. Like the bass music scene, the house music scene, the sjoko joko scene. The guys who I’ve already worked with for “Kwaai-fi”, Terrasoul, DJ Fosta, they all just have a fresh Capetonian, South African take on things. I wanna pursue encouraging those kinds of artists to put out music and remix each other and do it through that platform as “Kwaai-fi”.”

    Maramza has already been such a crucial part of the SA music scene, but this next era might be where he has the most impact. Not just as a producer but as someone dedicated to continually pushing the culture of electronic music in South Africa. It’s important for the old guard to use their knowledge, experience, and connections to help the new wave successfully take over, and through “Kwaai-fi” and keeping it low-key, that’s exactly what Maramza is doing.

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    Photography by Luke Maritz

    Styling by Luke Bell Doman

     

  • Slow Oceans EP is a Carefully Considered addition to Jumping Back Slash’s Unique Catalogue

    Writing about music from day to day usually isn’t that difficult. A lot of releases are so one-dimensional, cliché and uninspired that you can name drop a few genres, say some shit about a hook here or a beat there, give some info about the artist, throw in some hot-takes and you’re good to go. So it’s a bit daunting being given Jumping Back Slash’s latest EP to tell you about. Slow Oceans is so incredibly layered and nuanced that I feel like I may be out of my depth, which makes it rather aptly named.

    I’m on my 13th listen and I find myself drawn to new subtleties each time. The soft, repetitive “thump” of the kick-drum throughout “Come Rescue Me”. The reverberating bass set against playful use of a vocoder on “Khule Naye”. The way “Signs in the Stream” builds so subtly and makes repetition an art. The opening track which the EP is named after, “Slow Oceans”, sounds like the opening scene in a movie where there’s a new dawn in ancient land. Maybe there are dinosaurs, maybe it’s not that far back in time, I don’t know, but you get the picture. Like the scene in Jurassic Park where they’re in the trees and the sun comes up? Along those lines.

    It’s all quite something and there’s a lot going on across the six tracks, but they’re deftly held together by the ever-evolving producer and his choice in featured artists. Nonku Phiri lends her talents to the closing track, “The Siren’s Call”, and the sonic sorcerer Hlasko adds his touch to half the productions- “Khule Naye”, “In the Void” (which also features Shane Cooper aka Card on Spokes) and today’s exclusive premier, the hypnotic and haunting “Signs in the Stream”.

    Jumping Back Slash has such a unique catalogue and Slow Oceans is a carefully considered, and masterfully crafted addition. The EP drops on the 27th of January but you can treat your ears and listen to a piece of the puzzle, “Signs in the Stream”, below.

    For more about Jumping Back Slash, check out his website, Twitter and Facebook.

     

  • The Lessons Musicians Can Learn From Muzi

    If you’re a South African musician, there’s quite a bit that you can learn from Muzi. The charismatic producer from Empangeni seems to have one of the most level heads out of anyone I’ve met in the music industry, although he claims he’s “still figuring things out”. So there’s the first thing you can learn from him: humility. Despite already having a career many would be jealous of- moving to Berlin off of one song, releasing an innovative, genre-bending debut album called ‘Boom Shaka’, and getting positive press from the likes of The Fader and Noisey– Muzi says of his success so far, “I’m just building and I’ll just continue to build. When I come back here there’s the thing that it almost feels like I’m starting over. But I know now that I’m actually starting from a higher spot, a new level, but it’s just hard to get traction again.”

    Since Muzi returned home in November because “Fuck that winter, bruh”, his only gig has been a headlining slot an OkayAfrica gig in Kenya, which is cool in it’s own right, but it’s hella wack that the dude hasn’t been getting bookings in South Africa. I asked him why, “I’ve hit everyone up for gigs but it’s that thing, I understand what I’m trying to do and it doesn’t have a direct pocket that it fits in, even though it kinda does (laughs). People are scared man, a whole lot of promoters are really scared.” I find this strange because when local DJs play Muzi’s tracks, the dancefloor wilds out. Maybe promoters are averse to their audiences going buck, but that seems like a bad business model to me. Still, there’s a lesson to be learnt: To thine own self be true. Sure, Shakespeare said it first, but Muzi embodies it. Before he kicked it overseas, Muzi was facing similar problems, but stuck to his guns and it got him recognition beyond his hometown.

    Will he ever truly get his props in South Africa? Probably. He plans to bounce between here and Berlin for 6 months at a time, chasing that eternal summer. He may be ahead of his time but that just means it’ll take some time for people to pick up on him. I don’t doubt Muzi will be more successful, whether it’s at home or on the global stage, because Muzi is tenacious. Which is another lesson to learn from Muzi and best exemplified by his story of how he got his manager, John Maclennan: ”The way I met my manager, I didn’t know I needed a manager until I met him. He was still managing Jax Panik and DJ High Tek and I wanted to make beats for Jax Panik, but then Jax Panik didn’t work out. So that’s how I met him but he didn’t want to do management anymore. I was like cool, “I’ll just send you stuff.” I just kept on sending him stuff for a whole year. “Will you be my manager?” Like, every day. He then finally gave in and we just started building this whole thing.” Oh yeah, I guess that’s the last lesson: Get a manager.