In 2013, over four manic days of studio and lecture sessions, club nights and in-between foolery, some of South Africa’s sharpest creative musical minds set about shaping beats, exchanging ideas, forging ties, and generally getting inspired to plan futures that are still in progress.
This year marks five years since the Red Bull Basscamp: Johannesburg Edition took place. Tseliso Monaheng was there, and hinted at wanting to update parts of that story.
“I’m just trying to shut shit down bra, speaking from a coloured man’s perspective as well. [It’s a side] that gets told in many different ways, but nobody’s hearing it. So I get to tell it in my way, and people can either like it, or not,” says YoungstaCPT outside the Bannister Hotel in Braamfontein.
In 2018, the self-styled Kaapstad Naaier is the epitome of living out one’s dreams and fulfilling prophecy. But when he spoke those words all them years ago, a cloud of uncertainty, unspoken, hung in the air.
How was a rapper from the other side of Table Mountain, who identifies as coloured and is based primarily in Cape Town, to make it in a Mzansi entertainment industry guarded by Jozi-centric egomaniacs who keep their loyalties locked alongside Apartheid-sanctioned divides?
From the jump, the SAHHA award-winning emcee’s ethos has remained simple: Keep working, bra. He’s built a sustainable career through a combination of guest-stealing verses (DJ Switch’s “Way it Go”, alongside then-upstart Nasty C and the lyrically vicious Stogie T); an impressive discography of videos — he was releasing a video every week at one point, under the #VisualVrydag banner; and his own singles that manage to garner enviable streams on their first few hours of being released, with little-to-no mainstream radio support.
His recently released 30th mixtape with Switzerland-based producer Maloon the Boom, To Be Continued, is a boom-bap rap fan’s presidential suite vacation disguised as music.
“[I’m] still learning everyday. Haven’t perfected this shit yet,” he stated then.
Inside the Bannister, raggamuffin, rap and roots reggae deejay Crosby is readying his set for a special appearance at the African Storm Soundsystem’s well-renowned Ragga Nyts. A Thursday ting 20 years and going, the dancehall takes place across the Mandela Bridge at the Bassline, in the once-bustling cultural hub of Newtown.
“I don’t wanna keep it too roots because I know that the people here are fully into dancehall. Especially at the time I’ll be playing, 1am, people are on that energy,” he’d said earlier while going through his setlist.
“I’ve got to do this tune,” Crosby remarked while cueing up the instrumental track to another track, singing: “Zagu-zing-zai/ we ah ask dem why/ dem want di people dem fi die/ we see dem want to promote corruption/ while we clean the streets, some boi dem want to bust gun/”
“We just reserve and preserve the energy for tonight,” Crosby continues after we enter his room, where he’ll take me through selections of songs he’s recorded with artists such as the US-based rapper Termanology, and with the Hitfarmers production team based out in Germany. We also speak about his come-up in the roots reggae and dancehall community situated in Gugulethu. It’s an informal gathering of minds under the Chronic Clan umbrella, facilitated by his cousin Zoro who now resides in Europe.
“He taught us that when it comes to creativity, you have to let the juices flow. Out of all of us in the Cape Town music scene, [Zoro’s] got the most songs. If I could play [them] to him, he’d be astonished,” says the emcee, who also goes by the name Digi-Analog, and is himself a producer and mixing engineer.
Crosby tells of times, pre-’94, when Zoro would guard against neighborhood youths who’d bully him because of his dreadlocks. This was before Zoro sustained injuries from being shot, a fate Crosby himself met when neighborhood skelms fired live ammunition in his direction while he transported Somali immigrants going to buy business supplies.
“Dem shoot me close to the heart,” he says while lifting his t-shirt, revealing a wound that is still healing. “Heart of a Lion”, released in 2017 on his LP of the same name, speaks to this incident.
We’d spent the better part of day 2 touring the secret chambers of the Basscamp with Crosby, peeking into each one to check in on the vibes the rooms presented. All the artists partaking had a thirst to create. Where there wasn’t space in one studio, a spot availed itself next door. This in turn facilitated a puff-and-pass atmosphere where everyone was welcome to join in on the cypher.
We passed the workshop space on our way to these studios.
“Today we had bra Hugh Masekela. What I heard [from him] was the best. I’ve never heard what he said, [and] coming from an artist like him who has such a big influence within the music industry in South Africa; someone who’s been there from the times of Apartheid and who’s experienced what our parents have experienced…” Crosby carried on walking.
“What he told us about personal conduct as an artist…it’s not just about talent. It comes as a complete package. Artists dem fi learn [that] discipline, diligence, tolerance, are the keys,” he shared.
Bra Hugh’s gone, but what he left with the artists gathered before him during that workshop in October made an everlasting impact.
In studio 5, Thibo Tazz has decided to pause on programming floor-stompers and is working on a hip hop loop. “Something like…your Nonku’s,” shares the deejay and one-time RBMA participant when attempting to describe the sound he’s aiming at.
We run into Durban-based Icarus in the hallway, who’ll record a collab with YoungstaCPT later in the week.
Studio 4 has declared itself the house music headquarters. Approaching it, we are met by Yolanda’s welcoming smile. The next day, the Cape Town-based vocalist will collaborate with Durban whizz Visto da Kreator, a quiet cat with the magical ability to program a beat and lace the perfect chords upon it in under five minutes.
We find Beatenberg’s Rob Brink, who deejays and produces electronic beats as Okayshades, inside. The Frown’s Eve Rakow and Getaway Drugs’ David Thorpe sit quietly behind him, bopping their heads to the beat taking shape.
“Normally you’d have different studios in different areas. But here, everybody’s in the same vicinity. It’s amazing what music can do, bringing us together,” comments Crosby as the music progresses.
Adds Rob, days after: “All I can do is hope that I can be a part of, or remain part of, the scene that I’m such a fan of. I’ve met people here that…I’m their biggest fan, you know?! I got to work with them; I got to record raps. Personally, I really want to integrate with the SA house scene. I wanna find my place in that [and] bring everything that’s special about jazz to [electronic] music.”
A few months later, Beatenberg would release the lead single to their major label debut The Hanging Gardens of…
“Pluto”, a DJ Clock collaboration, sent Mzansi’s summer-crazed massive plunging to the depths of their inner ratchet, while the album made it possible for the trio to tour the world alongside Mumford & Sons and Baaba Maal.
That tour was catalytic to their deal with Island Records, which Beatenberg announced earlier this year. It’s a major feat considering that Bob Marley, Peter Tosh, Toots & the Mayatals, and other reggae music greats have been through its machine. Current affiliates include mega-stars Justin Bieber, Katy Perry and Avicii.
In a different studio, producer and deejay Satori can be found tweaking knobs on Ableton Live. Moonchild Sanelly’s vocals wail atop a dub-leaning instrumental track; she imagines a world where birds had to buy airtime — the type of stuff only Moonchild can get away with saying.
“She likes darkness,” Satori points out just after Moonchild switches off the lights in preparation for tracking her harmonies. Mic in hand, she remarks: “I just feel less watched. I think I get into [the song] quicker.”
Moonchild’s having a great run currently; her best yet. “Midnight starring”, a Maphorisa production that also features Busiswa and DJ Tira, can be heard during one of the scenes on the Marvel Comics blockbuster Black Panther. She was also included as part of Gorillaz’s set at Roskilde Festival during their appearance at this year’s edition of Roskilde Festival.
In her May interview with Noisey UK, she addressed questions related her song “Fuckboys” and the campaign that preceded it, whereby she shared tales of how she had been affected by the shit males she’d encountered — encounters — in her life.
“Women, we’re so comfortable with the fact that we’ve been violated and abused and we’ve gone through so much, even when we’re great. With boys, you need to reject a pair of dicks first before you get the [music label] offer. It might just take you a little longer, which is the route I chose because I ain’t gon’ fuck you. I got talent. Fuck you,” she told Noisey, proceeding to break down her five-year plan to open up a sex club; “I’ve gotten rejected deals because I’m being provocative. There’s been so many festivals that have dropped me. But fuck that shit. I will make it happen.”
To the question of whether she finds having to play to majority-white audiences ‘weird’, Moonchild responded: “I’m the only black girl and electronic musician in the white spaces that gets respected and gets main stage and headlines.”
Gasp!
Nonku Phiri has secured her place as an artist hard to categorize. She’s comfortable in the JungFreud alter ego that allows her to collaborate with the likes of PHFAT, yet transcends that setting to cut the moment-stealing records through her solo material, and still has steam for collaborations with Branko, Shangaan Electro, Crazy White Boy and more. Her space-gazing collaboration with the stellar cast of musicians that made music to the documentary Uprize, which charts alternative, oft-unseen discourses around 1976’s student protests, is one for the books.
“You’d be quite surprised at the number of things that happen behind the scene. You could find that half of the people [who do drugs] kinda got into [that] because of management, or the record label. [I’m] just trying to get people [around me] to focus on what they need to do, and I’ve been using myself as a case study for the past couple of years,” said Nonku in the lead-up to her Fak’ugesi Beats appearance in 2017.
“It’d be quite interesting to see whether what works for me, works for other people. And it’s just based on purity, being focused, and just owning your shit.”
We’ve been discussing ownership versus control, and the (non-existent?) virtues of total independence as an artist.
She has figured out the indie hustle from when she first came into the game, no?
“I don’t know. I mean, when I moved to Joburg (in 2015?), I almost,” Nonku pauses to re-arrange her thoughts, and then prefaces her response with the declaration: “I wouldn’t call it bad management. I just think the person wasn’t ideal for me. And more than anything, through this person I learnt what was right or wrong with the music industry. I had to realize that I had been doing it for myself, and that I was essentially justifying needing help with being lazy — because you kinda feel like oh, somebody can take over this and that.”
She carries on: “I could’ve possible just been a…I would’ve been everywhere, but not in the right way. So, like, T.V. shows, every fucking corporate gig…it wasn’t for me. I think when I kinda started going in that direction — Coke Studios was the deciding factor — I was like this is not what I want to do.”
It’s not easy to sum up the individual achievements of Basscamp participants in one fell swop. Far from a moment trapped inside a cubicle, Red Bull Basscamp: Johannesburg has grown secret tentacles, and now represents a time in history when some of the scene’s stealthiest minds congregated to lay down master plans for global domination.
