Bubblegum Club

Tag: kajama

  • SubWav’s Wiretribe compilation showcases Joburg’s electronica

    SubWav’s Wiretribe compilation showcases Joburg’s electronica

    ‘Wiretribe’ is Joburg-based leftfield electronica label Subterranean Wavelength’s (SubWav) debut label compilation. Featuring exclusive unreleased contributions from the label’s roster, the compilation is an introduction to the artists and their unique sounds, and captures the colourful variety of electronica emerging from the Joburg scene at the moment.

    Founded by Micr.Pluto, Edward Kgosidintsi and Tribal Rebul Ludi, Subterranean Wavelength initially wasn’t meant to be a label, but organically grew into one from the compilation series of the same name, the first volume of which dropped in 2014. Featuring Hlasko, Watermark High, Obligations & Hawkword, it was a showcase of Joburg’s beat scene in its infancy, part of the reason for starting the compilation. A desire to release music beyond compilations resulted in the formation of the label in 2016.

    Whereas the ‘Subterranean Wavelength’ series of compilations was a showcase of the beat scene in general, ‘Wiretribe’ focuses on the SubWav roster. “Everyone on ‘Wiretribe’ are people who we are actively working with on the label. Who are signed to the label, either with our bookings or as artists,” explains Micr.Pluto. As such, ‘Wiretribe’ is a showcase of what the SubWav family has to offer. “We have a bit of everything because we’ve got rappers, vocalists, beat makers, producers. I’d say most the vocalists we work with are on the super experimental tip. Our beat makers are on that tip. I don’t think we have an artist that has a mundane output with their music, everyone is actively pushing boundaries in their sound, trying out new shit, experimenting all the time,” Micr.Pluto continues.

    While SubWav’s artists cover a range of styles, the fact that they all hail from the same label is evidence of how well the compilation flows. From the bouncy opening track ‘Glitch Memories’ by Daev Martian x Tribal Rebel Ludi to the dubby ‘Listen’ by Eye – On Feather x Nandi Ndlovu, the beats of Micr.Pluto and Kajama’s soulful experimentations, there is an underlying laid-back vibe to the Subterranean Wavelength.

    Outside of the releases the label also hosts its SubWav Live which focuses on the live aspect of the beat scene. “The concept is to uplift that in Joburg and place an emphasis on that specifically. We also make sure we have live sets and DJs around that to keep the party vibrant,” says Micr.Pluto.

    Apart from ‘Wiretribe’, Subterranean Wavelength is looking to release a number of projects including a solo project from Kajama’s ‘Nongoma’ (a project from Eye-On Feather) as well as a new project from Micr.Pluto, alongside a newly signed vocalist.

    While the growth of the label is an indication of the growth of leftfield electronica locally, Micr.Pluto believes there are positive and negative aspects to this growth. “I’ve actually seen crowds swell and get really huge for the beat scene type movement. But I also feel like it’s kind of evolved into something different in a sense. It ended up merging with everything and everyone is jumping on the bandwagon of the beat stuff. In a sense I feel like it hasn’t grown to have its own crowd, it’s own market. It’s still got a long way to go to where people can host parties or throw events that are purely based on leftfield electronica or experimental beats, there’s always gotta be something thrown in there to make it accessible, but [we’re] getting there.”

  • Gaika Performs in the Heart of Jo’burg’s Party Culture – Kitcheners

    Gaika Performs in the Heart of Jo’burg’s Party Culture – Kitcheners

    Built in 1902 Kitcheners (KCB) has been the general stomping ground for generations upon generations of creatives, artists and students alike. Famed as the second oldest building in the city, there is no one occupant of this city who doesn’t know about it. It is more than fitting then that Gaika would perform the Johannesburg leg of his tour at this historic venue.

    Arriving prior to the show, at 18:30 sharp for my interview with him it was eminent that nothing about KCB changes. The built-in upholstered cushioning that surrounds the dance room has reached the end of its lifetime of elegance and is peeling at the seams, presumably due to countless back and bottom harassment from eager party goers. As I walked into the crowded dance floor space the media was closed in by means of the glass and wooden door room dividers. Flashbacks from my student days spent body against body grinding out to some of South Africa’s best local talent all came rushing back to me as my feet stuck to the sticky floor and a minor sweat temporarily took hold of me.

    There he was, locked in a video interview as I waited patiently for my turn to speak to the underground London-based artist. Camo pants, nude Nikes, a white top and a denim shirt loosely styled made up his attire. His demeanour was different from his music. He was calm, relaxed, open, and inviting. Unlike his experimental rap that oozes with pointed criticism on society and a near dystopian future. My turn finally arrived and he smiled at me with kindness, shaking my hand for an official introduction.

    I took a seat next to him and in conversation, I saw a personal side to the artist I had never heard in his lyrics or seen published in any article. A visitor to South Africa for the second time in his life he shared with me that his visit was vastly different from the first he made as a child. Describing it as an emotional experience, Gaika tells me that the decision to embark on this tour was greatly motivated by his need to travel to the furthest place.

    With an ability to partake in an intimate conversation, and seconds later retort with aloofness, I asked him about what he would perform for us that evening. “My records.” He told me as I tried to flesh out more. “I don’t want to ruin the magic so you’ll have to find out.”

    He described his passage into music, “I fell into it really. I always wanted to be around music. I was a visual artist and around musical culture and one day I just decided I want to make music and just got lucky that opportunities arose for me to do that. I was never a kid with a hair brush in the mirror like I wanted to be a singer. My dad got sick and I just decided that you only live once and you’ve got to follow some of the things that you are too scared to follow. Or too scared to try and so I did and I’m quite committed. I want to do it properly. I don’t want to half do things.”

    What stuck with me most was his response to what inspires him “Everything and nothing”. After some prying, he tells me that the sounds of early 80s and 90s film music act as an influence that he can recreate and interpret in his own way. It is as though Gaika finds comfort and inspiration from sounds of his early childhood or as he likes to call it, “kid music”. He does, however, caution by stating that, “I’m not really aware of influences”.

    Dark musical undertones, otherworldly hard-hitting bass and sharp criticism found in his lyrics got me to the question of a possible pessimistic outlook. He responds to me confidently “No that isn’t true. I’m an optimist and a realist. I say it like it is. If it’s uncomfortable it’s uncomfortable. I don’t think I focus on negatives in my life. In my music that can be quite a criticism of energy that I bring out. Things can only get better from confronting what’s wrong in the first place.”

    In parting, he shares with me that he would enjoy another tour like this in the future. The evening draws on as the dance floor greets sets by Rosie Parade and Kajama. 23:00 and the underground thunder of Gaika breaks loose.  His sound intoxicates not only KCB but the streets in its surrounds.

    His outfit has changed. Dressed in all black his music seems to inhabit every human form on the dance floor. The bass amplified and clinical leave my teeth on a near clatter. As he jumps and dances and throws his arms, so the crowd follows in imitation. The music in my bones, in all the life forms stacked on the dance floor, and in the old floorboards of KCB during his performance was so abundant that keeping my camera stable was a balancing act in itself. Gaika spits his lyrics with such intensity it makes his lyrics come across as dogmatic, with synchronized rhythmic bodies as followers of his sonic dogma. His ‘Security’ album takes hold of us and he asks, he pleas for a future of equality. Seeing Gaika live at KCB was nothing short of extraordinary. His vigour for his experimental practice will forever live on in my memory.