Bubblegum Club

Tag: gqom

  • DJ Okapi and Afrosynth Records; Recovering the origins of electronic music in South Africa

    DJ Okapi’s Afrosynth Records, possibly the only record store in the country specialising in South African and African music, recently opened up in Jeppestown and is challenging the cultural imperialism and that sets us swaying to American or British trends before acknowledging the innovative vitality of music from the continent. The store, like the Afrosynth blog that it emerged from, is about increasing accessibility to South African songs and albums that were produced during one of the industry’s most prolific times during the 80s and early 90s, but it’s also about sonically subverting some of the divide-and-conquer logic that still emanates from that time by tracing musical connections between electronic sounds here and in other African countries. The store is a veritable treasure-trove for both collectors and explorers, resurrecting hard-to-come-by ‘dead stock’ so that music primarily from South Africa but also from Zambia, Kenya, Zimbabwe, Nigeria, Ethiopia, Guinea-Bissau, Cameroon, and other African countries, is available in sealed, mint-condition quality.

    While electronic genres like Gqom, and artists like Black Coffee are exploding both locally and internationally, other artists who enjoy wide international success, such as Nozinja (pioneer of Shangaan Electro) are hardly even heard of here. DJ Okapi has been researching and archiving South African Bubblegum music for over a decade and understanding some of the appreciations and contestations, visibilities and invisibilities surrounding the genre may shed light, not only on the rich legacy of commercial and electronic music within this country, but also on why and how some of this dissonance was created and perpetuated. While vinyl has, in recent years, exploded as a kind of manufactured aesthetic of cool, Afrosynth taps into it simply for the reason that most Bubblegum music as well as the early Kwaito stuff that evolved from it, is only accessible in this format; the records stacked around the Afrosynth store speak to a passion for the music and artists of the time, which, even after years of conducting research and interviews, DJ Okapi still only feels he is scratching the surface of.

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    During his early DJ-ing days, Okapi used some of the money he had made to pick up a few South African records from the 80s; including Heatwave by Harari and Touch Somebody by Brenda & The Big Dudes. Like the slipjoint knife of his namesake the music stuck inside him and he started to question why there was such a vacuum of information surrounding it. Bubblegum, a dominant trend in South African pop music and a defining sound of the 80s, succeeded more traditional styles like Isicathamiya, Marabi, Kwela and Mbaqanga, and utilised then new technology like drum machines and synthesisers. Initially heavily influenced by black American Pop music, many of the musicians used English as their language of choice but this was often combined with one or more vernacular languages, and as the style evolved, local influences came increasingly into the mix. The start of Bubblegum is generally linked to the 1983 hit song Weekend Special by Brenda & The Big Dudes and while most of us know these songs, as well as those by Sipho ‘Hotstix’ Mabuse, Sello ‘Chicco’ Twala and Yvonne Chaka Chaka, relatively few of us seem to know that literally tens of thousands of incredible albums and artists were also being produced during the time. This perhaps speaks to the possibility that those who have held the power to archive and disseminate information show a certain disregard for that which they consider to not be ‘South African enough’ and so, despite the sugary label, Bubblegum can actually be said to have muddied such imposed definitions of ‘authenticity’.

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    While some contest the term Bubblegum (preferring to use labels like Township Pop, Disco or Afro-Pop) as derogatory or as implying a kind of superficiality or disposability, DJ Okapi feels that this doesn’t really do justice to this experimental musical production. There’s a kind of sweet subversion that pulls through the genre and perhaps complicates one-dimensional understandings of what resistance actually looks like; something like the façade of non-political ‘frivolity’ that was sometimes used to disguise serious political strategising at the time. The apartheid regime obsessively imposed definitions and segregations in order to strip the majority of their power and so, viewed within this context, the stylistic and linguistic cross-overs of Bubblegum refused these oppressive methods of the white-supremacist order. Through a multilingual approach, Bubblegum was also able to transcend the SABC’s policy of segregated radio stations for different language groups, thus reaching a much wider audience than previously possible. In many ways, Bubblegum manipulated the system against itself and would often escape the State’s censoring gaze by veiling political messages in seemingly innocuous lyrics. Perhaps it’s these strangely subtle insurgencies that reflect the most political tactics, or perhaps those are to be found in the joyful melodies themselves; claiming the right to moments of happiness and humanity in defiance of apartheid’s massively violent attempts at dehumanisation. Whatever the case may be, Afrosynth refuses to accept the misplaced hierarchical designations that disregard this immensely prolific creative legacy.

    If you’re interested in discovering more of this rich musical history, head over to the blog where you can check out videos, rare anecdotes of the artists, the album art and fashion, or download mixes and other previously inaccessible, digitised gems. Vinyls can also be purchased on Afrosynth’s Discogs page or you can check out this video, where Afrosynth was the focus for the first ever Boiler Room Collections in South Africa. From this week, DJ Okapi will be spinning these sounds during his UK tour, details of which can be found on his Facebook page. The sonic library of the store will be briefly closed during the UK tour but if you’re in South Africa, pop in again from the 1 December, where you can also scoop the newly released LP Boogie Breakdown: South African Synth-Disco 1980-1984, which DJ Okapi was involved in collaboratively compiling, and where you can perhaps even score some valuable reissues in the future. If that’s not enough, tune into the Soundcloud for some instant gratification. Heita-da!

  • DJ Lag Steps Up

    When asked to describe the sound of the Gqom subgenre, DJ Lag doesn’t hesitate- ‘it’s raw and hype.’ Since the beginning of this decade, it has become the defining electronic music to come from Durban and it’s surrounding townships, like Lag’s home Clermont. Gqom takes SA production to a new extreme of brooding intensity. It’s powerful enough to command attention when blaring 130 bpm at dangerous volumes on public transport. But it has enough nuance to reward intimate listening on cellphone headphones. Coming from an isiZulua word for drum, Gqom really does sound like a huge monolith being hurled onto a heaving dancefloor. Despite its popularity, it still remains an underground status with little overt media or radio support in South Africa.

    But such potency has also given it an international cachet. DJ Lag himself has recently been featured on UK music websites eagerly awaiting the release of his self-titled debut EP. Coming out on the London  label Goon Club All Stars, it will be backed up with a tour of Asia and Europe. Ahead of the new release, he has dropped the spine tingling ‘16th Step ‘as a teaser. Like so much Gqom it makes you want to dance, while having an unmistakable menace. The beat sounds like something horrific scratching at your door on a stormy night. Underneath runs a synthesiser reminiscent of a murderous robot haunting you through the flooded streets of future Durban, after the city has been lost to rising sea levels. It builds and builds and then suddenly drops out completely. In a masterful stroke, Lag leaves in a block of absent sound. Just as you think it’s over, it suddenly drives in again, going off into an unexpected but welcome conclusion. The step on this song is that feeling when you are about to fall asleep, but are awaken with a jolt as you imagine losing your footing. A sure-fire way to feel awake.

    And he has been honing this craft since a young age. His first introduction to recording was at age 12 when he went with his rapper cousin to a recording studio. Seeing a  producer at work making beats immediately hooked him in. It was a few years before he could get his own PC, but as soon as he did he started exploring the possibilities offered by Fruity Loops. His own musical progression is like a Darwinian microcosm of the evolution of Gqom itself. Beginning with hip hop he, then slid into kwaito. He then took a detour into a percussive house style. But hearing Gqom pioneers Naked Boyz for the first time locked him onto the deep new style that was breaking out in KZN around the turn of the decade. Since then, he has built up an impressive back catalogue of production, which keep the drive of Gqom while adding in deeper shades of nuance and sophistication.

    His EP comes at an interesting time for the style, as it is also sprouting new offshoots, such as the more pop orientated Gqom trap and it’s house cousin, Sghhubu.  In the early days of its coalescing into a distinct style, Gqom was characterized by a certain mystery. Young producers would put up songs fresh from being factory tested at intense backyard parties onto file sharing sites, without clear attribution or titles. This created issues of plagiarism, with rivals claiming credit for others tracks. As a result, artists at the styles forefront like Lag and Rudeboyz are taking control of their public image. It’s also a way to grow the genre by highlighting discographies, which the audience can watch evolve.  With his cinematic, emotional style DJ Lag is poised to become an internationally appreciated South African pioneer.

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  • DJ Diloxclusiv’s Dancefloor Distinction

    “Lale ilalilale! Wavuka ekseni awazi ulalephi!” For the past two hours, our cluster of festival-goers had supplanted the Wodumo chant over almost every beat that descended from the decks of that Oppikoppi stage. Somewhere amid the heaving hilltop congregation, a whistle punctuated each off-beat, driving the chant forward. The gqom banger, Wololo, had become so infused in the crowd’s party consciousness that we could string together a remix from any tempo and cadence, pleading for our sonic release. The dancefloor rung with anticipation for what felt like an inescapable necessity: for our sound to drop.

    When the minimalist grit of a gqom beat finally aired that night, it felt like deliverance.  Like the genre itself, the audience quickly locked into oscillation between tension and euphoria. A glitchy percussive drive encased the Red Bull stage — unapologetically dance music, unapologetically reverberating elokshini. All of this at a historically-white, historically-rock festival.

    The first minute of that set was enveloped in a sense of urgency, as we clutched at one another’s shoulders, asking, “Who is this?!” Eventually, the DJ took up the waiting microphone: “Uright?” The beat motored forward through the dust. “Hello Oppi! My name is Diloxclusiv. I’m all the way from Cape Town”. The crowd raised hands in recognition. “Does anyone know gqom music?” A chorus of resounding affirmation responded.  “Ok masambe ke! I don’t talk too much”. 

    And so Diloxclusiv (Vuyisa Genu) began his set, spinning a turn-up tapestry of local house, kwaito and gqom. I later learned that he was a dancer. No wonder, since his music had movement as its impetus, commanding the feet into action. Somewhere in the middle of his set, an interjection of Afropop, as Letta Mbulu’s ‘Amakhamandela (Not Yet Uhuru)’ set a choir of voices, and a swinging national flag, to the sky.  A struggle song come to remind us that dancing, particularly in this country, is at-once celebration, protest, mourning, and communion.

    Diloxclusiv, as dancer/DJ/artist, speaks from and for his place, as though there were no alternative.  He grew up in New Crossroads township, Nyanga, and later moved to Hazeldean in Phillippi. Around 2003, Diloxclusiv started playing paid gigs, initially at house parties and later at larger events. Remembering his very first set, he told me: “that was one of the longest sets I’ve ever played. I played from 4pm till 2pm the following day. Back in my area, there weren’t DJs, plus I had no friends with cars. Music was the only thing that kept us moving. I remember one group of ladies dancing to my old-school songs. They kept saying ‘Repeat DJ!’ I repeated because the crowd loved the music I was playing. So we could play a song 10 times before changing it.”

    As a presenter on UCT radio, Diloxclusiv’s popularity soon resulted in him hosting his own show: Kasi Flava, which later became The Blend.   With a growing reputation, he has received bookings at some of the Western Cape’s most popular nightclubs and festivals.  Cape Town “is one of the most difficult cities to play for”, he told me. DJ’s struggle to get support from the media, and from the Department of Arts and Culture. Township events, he went on to say, are particularly under-supported. Oppikoppi had been a long-term dream for Diloxclusiv, and along with Vic Falls Carnival and Black Coffe Block Party, had been among his favourite performances.

    When I asked him about his musical influences, Diloxclusiv described kwaito as his “first love. I still believe kwaito is not dead, just hybernating, soon to come out like a massive butterfly”. Defiantly local in his sonic pallette, he is critical of South African (particularly hip hop) artists that impersenate soundscapes from elsewhere, more appreciative of palpaby local genres like ispaza and motswako. This has been the primary attraction of gqom. “I was one of the first DJs to play gqom in Cape Town”, he said. “The first DJ to play gqom on Vuzu’s Hit Refresh, and the first DJ to play gqom at the 2013 Boiler Room sessions in Amsterdam”.  The moment Dilo dropped gqom on that Oppi stage will undoubtedly also be documented as a historic first.

    Gqom’s raw minimalism succeeds because it is both ostentatious and lacking in pretention. An unapologetic genre. As an artist, Diloxclusiv is very similarly characterised. He is an unabashed advocate for the music that does not, and could not, exist elsewhere.

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  • Meet Distruction Boyz: The savvy young producers taking Gqom to a new audience

    By 2012 the gqom style of electronic music had already made a huge impact on youth audiences in Durban’s townships. The new sound rumbled across dimly lit dance floors, reverberated within customised taxis and murmured through beat-up handsets. Inspired by the hysteria/excitement surrounding the new sound, three childhood friends, Manique Soul, Que and Goldmax (real names Lindelwa Mbhele, Thobane Mgobozi, and Zipho Mthembu)  began DJing and producing gqom music together. At the time they were all still Grade 10 high school students.

    Like the many other producers in their area, Manique Soul, Que and Goldmax are all self-taught, having learnt their craft purely through trial and error. It was via this process of experiential learning that the group developed both their mission and their identity.  ‘Pazamisa’ is a Zulu word meaning to disrupt and from this the Disturction Boyz name was coined.

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    Although gqom is what inspired Distruction Boyz to start making music it is sgubhu, a ‘melodic’ sub genre of gqom that has gained them recognition in the music industry. Their track 2OCLOCK is a good example of how dark strings, broken kick-drums and repetitive vocal samples, all traditionally gqom characteristics, can be fused with melodic house synths to create sgubhu. Apart from being more melodic than gqom, sgubhu is a more commercially viable sound. The perception amongst dj’s and producers on the scene is that gqom is inaccessible for a mass audience and that its place is in the underground. It’s a fair assessment considering that gqom has mostly been ignored by record labels and radio stations in South Africa, despite the genres widespread popularity in KwaZulu Natal.

    Since starting to produce sgubhu, Distruction Boyz have seen their audience grow and their star rise. They have worked with industry heavyweights like Dj Tira, Mampintsha and Dj Sox and are now closely affiliated with the record label Afrotainment. Both Que and Goldmax believe that they wouldn’t have met Tira if they were only making gqom. Although their focus is now on sgubhu, Distruction Boyz are still producing gqom but are no longer releasing it with commercial intentions.  Que sees it as a exclusive sound, something ‘just for us and our friends when they come over to visit”.

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    The young producers now emerging out of gqom’s first wave are more industry savvy than their predecessors. One of the reasons Manique Soul, Que and Goldmax joined forces is because they believed that being a part of a group would fast track both their artistic progression and their trajectory in the industry. New ideas and approaches are key to ensuring that Durban’s new sounds reach a wider audience. Distruction Boyz, along with peers like Dark Dawgs and Da Golddust, are candid  about their intentions. Not only do they want to make gqom accessible but they also see their music as a business. A successful career in the music industry is that much more attainable  thanks to the foundation laid down by gqom pioneers like Rudeboyz, Dj Lusiman, Dj Target No Ndile, Griffit, Sbucardo and Dj Lag.

    Despite Gqom not getting the recognition it deserves, the genre’s contribution and influence on Durban’s and South Africa’s music scene is undeniable. It is a fertile sound which is inspiring new artists and spawning popular sub genres like Sgubhu, Gqom Trap and Core Tribe.

  • Witness the Funk – Trapping the Durban Sound

    In 2014, Durban group Witness the Funk made their first impact on South African consciousness with their hit ‘Nomusa’.  The song highlighted smooth multilingual flows over an insidiously catchy beat. It was accompanied by a stylish music video which showed the glamorous side of Durban with parties in tropical mansions and beaches, and long drives down the promenade.  WTF have steadily followed up with more group tracks, like the woozy ‘Dreams’ and collaborations such as their striking features on Gigi Lamayne’s ‘Moja’.

    The group started in 2010, originally experimenting with an alternative hip-hop sound. But they quickly began to play around with both their musical style and image, solidifying into the current line-up of Efelow, Aux Cable and Moshine Magnif. Throughout they aimed to combine international influences with the sound and vernacular of their home city.  The result has been their self-described  ‘ Gqom-Trap’ sound.  The gqom part refers both to the dark, hypnotic electronic style coming from Durban, and an overall aesthetic that is wild and exuberant. The trap points  to the influence of US rap, with the group being inspired by the flow of artists like Migos, but reinterpreted in Zulu and focused on South African life.  But their syncretic approach has not been without some (minor) controversy.  In 2015, a later deleted tweet from Atlanta rap group Rae Sremmurd dissed them as plagiarists  ‘we was watching on MTV Base. We see FUCK BOYS, WTF- Nomusa Guys Wanna be Us WTF Thou??’.  The fact that this tweet was later deleted suggests that these allegations were more to do with superficial similarities in clothing and style than actual artistic appropriation.  In fact, if Rae Sremmurd had watched more MTV Base they would have probably come across far more serious offenders. Unlike WTF, who combine international influences with Zulu lyrics and local sounds, far too many hip hop artists in SA lazily plunder their accents and references from the US. Rather than mimicking anyone, gqom trap adapts to create a new Durban style.  To fully appreciate these innovations requires a detour into the meaning of both ‘gqom’ and ‘trap’.

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    Musically gqom takes kwaito and house into a dark, menacing direction characterised by ominous drums and threatening synthesiser lines.  The style was pioneered by bedroom producers in the townships and shantytowns of Durban, and tested out at underground club nights. A brilliant 2014 article by Kwanele Sobiso suggested that the rawness and minimalism of gqom is a reflection of the stressful urban reality that surrounds it producers- ‘Whereas the best of Durban kwaito production is sleek, with lyrics suggesting upwardly mobility, gqom is loopy, lo-fi and off-beat, sounding exactly like the pervasive nihilism it sometimes documents’.  The cinematic heaviness is displayed on compilations like the excellent The Sound of Durban Vol. 1, and while the style is still fairly underground in South Africa its innovative rawness is commanding attention overseas.  Gqom nights have popped up in the UK and Europe, and it has received coverage from tastemaker US websites like Pitchfork. The appeal of gqom is conveyed in an often sited quote by UK producer Kode9- ‘like being suspended over the gravitational field of a black hole, and lovin’ it’. Gqom is powerful because while it is totally rooted in contemporary Durban, its dystopian tone has universal relevance. The positive reception in the UK is especially telling, as gqom often sounds like the South African equivalent of the continuum of dark, urban based British electronic music, a line which stretches from Joy Division to Burial. In fact, a Paul Morley quote about how Joy Division musically interpreted bleak 1970s Manchester could equally be applied to gqom’s mapping of the urban landscapes of KZN- ‘It was almost like a science-fiction interpretation of Manchester.  You could recognize the landscape and the mindscape and the soundscape as being Manchester.  It was extraordinary that they managed to make Manchester international, if you like—make Manchester cosmic’.

    wtf efelow

    Similarly, the trap sound emerges from a specific sense of place.  Before it was a genre, trap was a slang term from the Southern US which referred both to the specific location of the ‘trap house’ where drugs were sold from and to an overall condition of being trapped in crime, violence and grinding urban poverty. It became a distinctive musical style in the early 2000’s, when artists like T.I, Young Jeezy and Gucci Mane combined cinematic tales of drug dealing with a bass driven sound. As T.I put it in 2003 ‘I’d probably still be trapping if I wasn’t rapping right now’. Trap rap became commercially successful while maintaining a dark sound and bleak lyrical perspective, but gradually the term began to mutate.  EDM artists played a form of trip which kept the sonic architecture but lost the lyrical themes, and it even turned up in songs by pop artists like Lady GaGa and Katy Perry. In rap itself, trap has become more hedonistic and expansive, seen in the ebullient hits of Fetty Wap, the outrageous psychedelia of Young Thugs and Future’s tormented narco-ballads.

    WTF are drawing on these sources to create an effective hybrid style.  Their music takes a less brutal direction than straight gqom, and adds more focus on individual personality and visual images to what has been a scene primarily represented by faceless producers. Simultaneously, they repurpose American influences for their own purposes.  Like Jamaican dancehall and UK grime, rap is crossed with a regional style. The result, like on the their triumphant ‘ Shonaphansi ’ collaboration with DJ Wobbly is music with both mass appeal and a razor sharp experimental edge.

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  • Durban’s viral dance videos highlight the prescience of social media and the mobile phone in youth culture

    In Durban, almost everyone dances, it is a part of the city’s cultural identity, exemplary of its status as a hub of house and gqom. Dance is a language Durbanites are fluent in, a tenet of their cultural socialisation. However, the way in which this cultural meme is proliferated is expanding. Double step is a dance that has reached the masses through popularity on social media. Emanating from the youth of the East Coast, the dance style has gone viral online and offers a glimpse into African youth culture and how cellphones along with social media are shifting the nexus of pop culture on the continent. In providing alternate streams of entertainment from radio and televised broadcasting, social media offers millenials an instrument of expression to share their art, opinions and speak truth to power. The cellphone is now a part of the artillery used to gain access and create content, subverting barriers to communication and offering an immediate alternative to the Eurocentric and American programming dominating South African radio and television.

    Double Step is an astonishing performance of fluidity and frenetic footwork. The schoolchild featured in the video here is a Double Stepping dream, her moves have been making waves worldwide. A testament to the performance but also to the power of social media as a platform for youth, particularly African youth, so often objectified and marginalised in traditional media.

     

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  • The Rude Boyz bring Gqom to Johannesburg, as they advance the sound in South Africa and beyond

    The Rude Boyz are in Johannesburg. The trio of Andile, Masive and Menchess has begun a journey to world domination. The story of Gqom and the Rude Boyz begins in KwaZulu Natal,  it is a Durban story, and while it cannot be confined to a single article or artist, it can be traced by the rise and rise of the Rude Boyz.

    KwaZulu Natal is the land of rolling hills and hips, and the home of Gqom. Dancing is deeply steeped in the culture there, resulting in the most authentic centre for dance and rave culture in South Africa. Nobody gets down like Durbanites, the clubs in the city are fuelled by ecstasy and house music and it is from this scene that Gqom emerges. A subdued, deep house made to hypnotize and enchant dancers. The Rude Boyz gained recognition in this scene with their first EP; Rude Boyz, The Best. Masive, debunks his hometown celebrity status but Menchess and Andile, being high schoolers when the first EP came out, admit that their profiles have exploded somewhat since then. Their debut was followed by Rude Sounds 2, Durban House Mafia and the critically acclaimed Rude Boyz EP which reworks their most favoured tracks and has been released internationally by Goon Club All Stars.  

    From growing in the same street in Mount Moriah, north of Durban, to pioneering the proliferation of Gqom, the Rude Boyz are en route to big things in 2016. This tour to Johannesburg sees them in studio with Stilo Magolide, working on what they claim will be a huge hit. I don’t doubt it. Their energy is palpable, and their output is outstanding. Their music is being lauded by tastemakers and clubbers the world over, and it seems this is just the beginning.

    Listen to one of their latest tunes below.

     

  • Bubblegum Club Vol 2 by Okzharp

    South African born, London based producer Okzharp recently wrapped up a euro tour in which he played his new EP “Duemla 113” live for the first time. We were fortunate to catch up with him during his tour and he even made an exclusive mix for us which you can listen to below.

    Can you tell us a bit about the BubblegumClub you’ve created for us?

    I was inspired after the recent Hyperdub party here in London, listening to Moleskin, Ikonika and Kode9. I played live with Manthe and Sondeza, so this mix is probably a homemade version of what I might’ve done if I’d djed on the night.

     

    You have quite a low-key presence on line, why is that?

    I’m not sure really, if I think about it my head caves in. I suppose it’s not wanting too much to get in the way of what I do. Manthe says she wants to make me a mask. I’m conflicted.

     

    Chris who you worked with on Ghost Diamond called Okzharp your reincarnation. Can you tell us how and why Okzharp was birthed? 

    I read that yes, thanks Chris… Okmalumkoolkat used the word in Dirty Paraffin music and we would say it all the time, used it to sign off emails and when I realised I wanted a name for what I was doing it just appeared and stuck.

     

    Besides it being you country of birth, what is it about South Africa and the people here, why is your practice so embed in this country?

    I think I’m figuring that one out. I work with a couple of people based in SA so I think that holds my focus to the place in a different way to just being an observer, more a kind of prosthetic participant. I feel a bit like that with London though too, obviously.

     

    When I met up with you in London last year you mentioned how GQOM had become a part of your sets. Can you remember the way the crowd reacted when you first played GQOM?

    Yes in 2012 there was a particular folder of tracks that dj ZharpZharp gave me that had Infinite Boys, Eduardo Paim, then there was ‘Mitsubishi Song’ by Menchess, I knew I was going to play that one. Then there was JBS, Lag, Julz, Lusiman, Emo Kid, Saybee, Thobzin, Citizen Boy, Rudeboyz, Cruel Boyz, and other boyz. I’ve only ever done one ‘gqom’ set though, which was for the Hyperdub 10 party at Corsica Studios, it was deep on the room 2 sound system with the smoke machine on blast. There’s also a night in Londoncalled Zhambeez, the dj ZharpZharp was there to headline the launch party and he slayed it with his gqomwave sound.

     

    You were exposed to GQOM early in its international trajectory. Can you recount the rise of this genre in London.

     The story is still writing itself really. There’s an amazing track on Kode9’s new album that has an almost-gqom-inspired-sounding glacial bulldozer bass, Neana and Moleskin are doing exciting things inspired by it, the virus is spreading. Lag’s EP for GoonClubAllstars is amazing. Big Space and I were joking about releasing a track we did together under the name ‘Appropriation Boyz’. At least I think we were joking. Also I hope the Zulu Compurar brings the gqomwave to life.

     

    Dumela 113 is quite the debut, congratulations… but now you know you have left us wondering whats next?

    Next is live performances with Manthe and Sondeza, Ghost Diamond film screenings and new music.

     

  • FAKA Release New Track

    FAKA, the performance artist pairing of Fela Gucci and Desire Marea, has dropped a new single. In their role as pioneers for sexual identity and style the duo have named the track ‘Isifundo Sokuqala’, (the first lesson) and it described as Ancestral Gqom-Gospel. The song is ethereal and exquisite, listen to it here.