Sekese Rasephei
nemesisrepublik
Published in
6 min readDec 3, 2019

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Proverb @ Lyric Theatre (Image: Tšeliso Monaheng)

“Cats are always asking me, “Verb why five jobs, kid?” And I’m like, “Yeah you’re right, why is it not six?” I must not slip and get comfortable, I’ll drop quick, and everybody knows that Hip Hop is top of the list, though it’s not a job, it’s a gift that’s God-given, and I’m not gonna trip son, it is hard living…” —

ProVerb — Trying To Get It (Write Of Passage, 2007)

The South African Hip Hop fanbase has a complicated relationship with ProVerb. To some, he is the quintessential emcee with enduring relevance and longevity to match. Others see him as an elder statesman who has outgrown the culture.

In-between the two extremes are people who know him as the producer and host of the popular television singing talent show, Idols SA. He wears many hats, and that’s one of the things that inadvertently predicates the love-hate relationship his once ardent fans have with him.

For one, many have grown impatient with his formulaic style of writing. It doesn’t pack the same punch it did on his critically acclaimed and debut album undoubtable SA Hip Hop classic, The Book of ProVerb (2005).

The content and themes of his music aren’t brought into question. It is the manner in which he writes that finds less favour as the years progress, and lyricism is viewed differently. His unique style of writing and delivery — prioritising patterns and laden with overt wordplay, punchlines, similes, and metaphors — which once placed him in the pantheon of great lyricists in SA Hip Hop, has not fared well.

Concepts on some of the songs on his later albums, like that of “Nobel Beats Prize” off of 2015’s The Red Tape, are elementary and predictable. I’m pushing the envelope like I was angry postal workers is a cringe-worthy punchline. Had that very song come out in the early years of his career, it wouldn’t have been received with a similar disdain.

The unintended consequence of branching into beatmaking is that other aspects of his music, like the lyrics, have lowered in quality over the years.

Still, the caliber of emcee ProVerb is affords him to have these shortcomings without tarnishing his legacy. However, he is left out of most SA Hip Hop G.O.A.T conversations. When he is considered, it’s almost an after-thought, which results in him being ranked lowly.

Drink ya wawtrrr (Image: Tšeliso Monaheng)

The trajectory of ProVerb’s rap career is characterised by immense progression and maturity as far as overall success goes. He has made a foray into multiple business ventures within the entertainment industry and still managed to release five albums in a career spanning close to two decades. Bits and pieces of his private life have spilled out into the public in recent years, but he has generally kept a low and clean profile throughout his career.

His music mirrors this growth, and most fans can’t seem to come to terms with this. They find the optimistic, well-meaning, positive outlook that his music is steeped in boring and corny. But I think it’s not contrived. Ultimately, that’s what should be important.

One of his claims to fame is that he hardly uses profanity in his music. In Hip Hop, this is an anomaly. But ProVerb is an anomaly himself. Always has been. Breaking out in the early 2000s in SA Hip Hop and enjoying success as an emcee rapping exclusively in English is not an easy feat. There’s only a handful of emcees whose careers have lived long enough to tell such a tale.

Being one’s true self and maintaining that in the music and entertainment industry is a difficult thing to do. More so in this era, where most people who are active participants in the music business are required to be an act and not so much an artist. This is also a direct consequence of the all-consuming fiery of Capitalism that has engulfed the music industry.

We revere artists so much that we erroneously think they have an obligation towards us: To be a certain way; to deliver their art in a certain way and at a certain frequency — all determined by us, the fans. In my experience, ProVerb is one of the artists whose fan-base has grappled a lot with this.

ProVerb has never been an act. To me, he has always been an artist in the truest sense. He has always expressed his art the only way he knows how. It is important to understand this aspect of him. This is why his music is devoid of any trends or antics that would make him more palatable to this generation, or part of the older generation whose music sensibilities change with the times.

It is unfair for fans to expect an artist’s growth and expression to be in tandem with theirs. Author Samuel R. Delany gets it spot-on in his science-fiction novel Dhalgren when says:

The artist has some internal experience that produces a poem, a painting, a piece of music. Spectators submit themselves to the work, which generates an inner experience for them. But historically it’s a very new, not to mention vulgar, idea that the spectators experience should be identical to, or have anything to do with, the artist’s. That idea comes from an over-industrialized society which has learned to distrust magic.

With M.anifest @ Lyric Theatre (Image: Tšeliso Monaheng)

In ProVerb’s case, regardless of how good — and therefore dull and uninteresting — his persona is, that’s who he is. The values he espouses in his person are reflected in his music through the themes and subjects he addresses. As far as his music goes, that has seemingly been his character, and how he portrays himself publically.

Proverb earnestly rapped:

I have a dream of seeing an SA emcee in The Source
A HHP poster in the centrefold
I have a dream of platinum sales, minimum gold
A tour bus of with all of us
Touring across Africa borders
Where television networks record us
I have a dream of being on stage when I perform
And seeing the crowd respond to metaphors
Not just the chorus
I have a dream of writing articles in magazines
That will explain that Hip Hop is more than just a baggy jean
In fact it seems, the whole culture is misunderstood
They say we portray the bad, listen while I spit some good
It’s not all about me Verb, I want all emcees to be heard
And get the respect that they deserve…

The clairvoyance of these lyrics alone should cement his place in the pantheon of SA Hip Hop. Every well-functioning aspect of the scene as it exists today, was willed into existence by emcees like him.

Hip Hop has long been known to be a young man’s sport. Naturally, there are stereotypes that are thought to be inherent in it, especially if one is an emcee. Being happy-go-lucky, brash, cocky, cool and trendy are some of these stereotypes. ProVerb has defied most of them. But as we know, this kind of growth and level-headedness in Hip Hop elicits polarising feelings, some of which have clouded our judgment when it comes to fairly defining his legacy.

ProVerb is the embodiment of what Hip Hop can be when it embraces growth. Hip Hop has always been about making something out of nothing, and he did that. If you take the music and his overall impact on the culture, there is no denying that he is in the Mt. Rushmore of SA Hip Hop.

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