Bubblegum Club

Tag: underground

  • The Future is Now for Muzi

    The Future is Now for Muzi

    Muzi is the future and the future is now. With the release of Afrovision, Muzi, who has been producing bangers for a minute now, has gone from being an “act to watch” for those in the know locally and overseas to an absolute sensation both at home and abroad.

    A couple of years back, on this very site, I said that Muzi had the blueprint for success, and the proof is in the pudding. Sure, at the time he only had one booking, but 2 years later he’s on a tour that’s seen him “murk” (his word) Durban, Joburg, Falkirk, Glasgow, Lancashire, Milan, London, and Wiltshire. With Oppikoppi and Rocking The Daisies ahead of him. He’s stuck to his vision and is now reaping the rewards for years of hard work and self-discovery.

    To some, it might seem like Muzi has popped up out of nowhere because it takes the mainstream media and the public a while to catch on, but he’s already had a career that many artists would be jealous of. Major label releases, living in Berlin, making music with the likes of Damon Albarn, showing Stormzy around Durban, interviews and reviews on all the major international music sites, and a music catalogue that most producers are straight up jealous of.

    Despite all that, Muzi is a relatable guy. Through his social media, you get a feel for his playfulness, his mindfulness and his humility. And not humility the way rappers are “humble”, but you get a genuine sense that while Muzi takes his work and career seriously, he doesn’t take himself too seriously.

    While I’ve always found Muzi easy to relate to, his music didn’t resonate with audiences at home as much as it should have. Europeans were wilding out but Muzi was an underground fav in South Africa, that’s because the music he was making had African touches to western sounds. But with Afrovision, Muzi truly embraces his roots whilst creating something with global influence and reach. I personally consider Afrovision to be my album of the year. It just sounds perfect.

    After his stint in Berlin, it feels and sounds like Muzi has finally found his place back home. He might still be a bit of a misunderstood outcast, but he’s also someone who knows who he is, where he comes from, and where he wants to go.

    To listen to Afrovision click here.

  • DJ SistaMatik doesn’t play hits

    DJ SistaMatik doesn’t play hits

    Originally from Soweto, Johannesburg-based Tumelo Kgwathe aka DJ SistaMatik first discovered her passion for sharing music with others at the age of 9 when her uncle gave her a box of tapes. “I played those tapes every day to everyone that came to visit us, and when I look back that’s where it all started. Because I just became that person that always wanted to play music for people,” recalls SistaMatik.

    Introduced to the world of hip hop through American movies, SistaMatik was fascinated by the culture surrounding hip hop. “To me that was like wow, I want to be an American, not in a shallow way but in a really innocent type of way. I just became that kid around the neighbourhood with the baggy clothes, trying to emulate that culture,” SistaMatik explains.

    Growing up in Jo’burg, SistaMatik found that the only place where she could find fellow hip hop heads was at a club called Metropolis run by DJ Blaze. This ignited her passion for hip hop even further and pushed her to learn how to DJ. “When I went there I found that everyone liked hip hop. They [knew] the raps. They play[ed] the music that I like[d], that I [could] never hear on the radio. So I started going there often and then it was like ‘I wanna DJ, I wanna try that out.’”

    The eagerness to learn led SistaMatik and her own sister to ask DJ Blaze for a lesson, which resulted in him starting DJ workshops. “He’s the guy that allowed us to touch the turntables back in those days. So salute to him.” Through these workshops she learned the art of mixing as well as the tricks of turntablism.

    SistaMatik’s sound and taste is constantly evolving, although when she finds a sound she likes, she sticks with it for a while. “I was really big on the Wu-era, but it keeps changing. Because later I was into the boom-bap KRS-One type sound and then I got into the more gangsta, thug music, Mobb Deep, New York street type music. I keep bouncing around different eras and different sounds. But I listen to a lot of hip hop. Local as well.”

    Film continues to play a large role in SistaMatik’s life, and she often finds songs through film. “I listen to film scores a lot. I’ll maybe download the score before I watch the film. That’s my main source [of music].”

    Although she specialises in hip hop, SistaMatik’s sets feature a variety of genres depending on the occasion. “…I love music as a whole. I’m very much against playing hits. The best feeling is when you’re playing and someone asks you ‘What is that?’ [because] they’re enjoying it.” The results are sets that feature a unique mix of underground gems, old school classics and the finest of African rap music.

    Her collaborations include providing scratches on Wanda Baloyi’s debut album, as a live DJ for Yugen Blakrok and an unlikely collaboration with pop singer ChianoSky. She is also looking to work with more people. When asked what her future plans are, SistaMatik reveals that she is aiming to score a South African film before the end of the year. Considering her affinity with film, that seems likely.

  • The Shadowgodz shed light on Cape Town’s hip hop underground

    The Shadowgodz shed light on Cape Town’s hip hop underground

    A collaboration between two pioneering members of Cape Town’s hip-hop scene, Shadowgodz sees Abadon Horseman and Fungus (a.k.a Sammy Sparks) reunite on a project that was birthed out of their previous crew, League of Shadows. Beginning his career as Garlic Brown as part of Brasse Vannie Kaap, Abadon has since rapped alongside some of the country’s biggest names, including Isaac Mutant, Jack Parow, and Die Antwoord, while Fungus is known for his dexterous word play, and for having been involved in some of South Africa’s best freestyle battles with some of the biggest names in Southern African hip-hop.

    Originally conceived to be a larger collective, Shadowgodz became a duo as some strayed off the path into darkness and others became fallen soldiers. It is this theme of light and dark which the Shadowgodz explore, tying it to their daily lived experiences from the Cape Flats. “Cornerstoned”, the group’s first release and video, with its dramatic strings and witty wordplay simultaneously pays homage to fallen underground heroes such as Bonzaya and Jon Doe with their murals featuring in the video.

    Laying their trademark lyricism over beats produced by METHODMATIKZ, the duo describe their sound as shroom-bap, a nod to boom-bap sound in which they have their roots, while also alluding to these elements of light and dark. Shadowgodz buck the trend when it comes to what’s currently happening in hip-hop and it’s trap-leanings, rather focusing on their strengths and evolving their styles. Wordplay, punchlines and creative figures of speech all feature heavily in their rhymes, while the beats try to find a balance between old and new school sounds.

    Apart from the material recorded as a duo, both Abadon Horseman and Fungus have other projects in the works which will be released over the course of 2018 and sees them step out of the shadows a little more.

  • 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.

  • 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.

    que

    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”.

    goldmax

    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.