Since the late 2000’s, South African hip-hop has seen a meteoric rise. The country’s events calendar is increasingly populated with large-scale hip-hop events; relationships with big brands have strengthened, allowing artists to earn additional income through endorsement deals; 2012 saw the launch of the South African Hip Hop Awards; and mainstream radio has finally bought into a culture that, for decades, remained on the side-lines. After some 25 years, local hip-hop has truly arrived. For the first time, promoters and artists feel as though they are able to survive and thrive off hip-hop. Johannesburg’s nightlife, in particular, has made that possible.
The pre-eminence of local hip-hop has infiltrated street fashion; re-oriented nightclub set lists; and contributed to the rise of new artists and party spaces. Itumeleng Masoko, a young event promoter and hip-hop DJ from Soweto, is one example of this.
I first came across Tumi in an event advertisement for Relevant Thirstdays. Hosted in Soweto, on the last Thursday of every month, the event promised to be a haven for hip-hop heads: an assemblage of hip-hop’s foundational elements — DJ’s, rap battles, b-boys/girls, and an open mic. Staged at the Ko-Phiri Mapetla venue, Thirstdays harkened back to hip-hop’s bloc party origins.
In a place where neighbourhood soundtracks had long been dominated by house music, a new phenomenon was emerging, cultivating hip-hop culture and artistry. Audiences were invited to come and “witness hip-hop culture rise”. The promoters behind the event were a collective called 365 Turn-up Avenue and Tumi, it seemed, was their frontman. Carefully-selected memes formed a significant part of Thirstdays’ advertising: a father and daughter assuming the signature dab, emblazoned with the caption, “Three Thursdays left till the Relevant one”. Another post from a follower showed Cassper Nyovest, AKA and Emtee, each posing with their newly purchased cars. Below, the caption: “SA hip-hop in 2016”. The aspirational rhetoric repeated in regular references to Rick Ross’ ‘We Gon’ Make It’. It was an event concept spawned from the promise of local hip-hop’s new rise.
Tumi and I eventually met one Sunday afternoon on a street corner in Protea Glen. A DJ booth had been erected on the sidewalk. Opposite: a pavement lined with cooler boxes and garden chairs. Stealing shade alongside a brick wall, Tumi told me that, like many others in Soweto, he “grew up listening to house music.” In fact, Tumi had begun his entertainment career as a house DJ, sending mixes to local radio stations. When I asked him about his decision to become a promoter, he told me of one night when he had heard DJ Euphonik advocating on air that anyone who wanted to succeed as a DJ also needed to understand events.
Tumi set to work, hosting his first event when he was in Grade 11. “I didn’t have a clue about events”, he told me, “I learnt on the day.”When I asked how friends and family responded to his new work in the nightlife industry, he responded: “Yoh, my mom used to give me a hard time. She didn’t want me to go out at night, ‘cos [she thought] I’d get stuck into drugs [or] I’ll get killed. But now she can see that I like this. In fact, I don’t like it, I love it, and I’m determined to make it work. People think we’re all about turning up, getting drunk, taking girls home, but it’s more than that.”
For this young Sowetan promoter, it was experimentation with hip-hop that erupted his career as a DJ and promoter. “South African hip-hop started to become amazing”, he remembers. “I tried to mix hip-hop in my bedroom. At first it was kak. I couldn’t feel hip-hop. But I didn’t give up. It started to make sense. When I played it live for the first time, people loved it. It made people give you attention. You see, when it comes to house, everyone plays house. Everyone you meet is a DJ [and] what does he play? What does she play? House.”
House has long-since been South Africa’s musical love. Kwaito, a fusion of house rhythms and rap vocals, flooded airwaves in the 1990’s, and soon became equally infused in the nation’s sonic identity. For decades, hip-hop struggled to compete for audiences, particularly in the country’s townships and rural areas. But the growing inculcation of local languages, locally-inspired content, and kwaito-infused beats has given South Africa’s hip-hop artists new traction, where many had once been accused of American mimicry.
Given hip-hop’s origins among poor and working class communities in America’s inner cities, it is interesting that, in South Africa, there were those who associated the genre with middle-class elitism. Recently, a friend of mine, who parties predominantly in taverns, lamented that Johannesburg’s township parties had become increasingly infiltrated by the ‘Model C dab’. Tumi, however, celebrates the increasing mass appeal of the genre.
“Right now, it’s becoming common [in Soweto]”, Tumi told me. “It’s the trending thing.” Recall also that Soweto has, over the years, given rise to some of the country’s best rap artists: Pro, Pitch Black Afro, Wikid, Zulu Mobb and movements like Slaghuis. More recently, we’ve seen the rise of K.O. “People such as K.O.”, Tumi says, “they’re achieving and inspiring us as youngsters”.
“Before, [it was] commercial house and deep house”, Tumi told me. “Right now you don’t even hear commercial house [at clubs anymore]. They play deep house [and] after that it’s hip-hop. You don’t have a party without hip-hop”. He recalled a time when hip-hop had served as slow preparation for a climactic house set. Today, this ordering had been reversed, with hip-hop at the apex of a night out. In neighbourhoods where house music had once set the sonic tone, Tumi was now referred to as “The Black Coffee of Hip-Hop”.
After his first residency at Malume Lounge, Tumi has since taken up residency at Ko-Phiri Mapetla. 365 Turnup Avenue will be hosting their flagship event, Spring Picnic, on the 29th of October. You can also check out Tumi’s latest mix below.
[mixcloud https://www.mixcloud.com/TumiMasoko/tumimasoko-hip-hop-kontrol-007sp16tug-promo-mix/ width=100% height=120 hide_cover=1]