South African hip-hop has become too safe. Cutting edge rappers are being sidelined in favour of tried-and-tested mainstays – creating a cycle of regurgitated talent that receives preferential treatment by radio stations, booking agents, and sponsors. Doubtless, the artists in the spotlight have dedicated endless hours to their craft, and the fact that their work is paying off is something to be celebrated. The problem is that there aren't any rappers filling the vacuum which results when the mainstream and the underground* become distinct entities. In short, the exciting new shit coming out is still not getting heard by most people. In South Africa, radio still makes the rules. Talent exists in bundles across different regions of the country, but no one has really stepped up to directly challenge the state of affairs, be it through different approaches to songwriting, or a different strategy to marketing their music. Commercial radio is partly responsible for the mainstream's generic song format and its silences when faced with issues affecting South Africa's working class and unemployed citizens. Corporate culture, which has been gunning for South African hip-hop’s soul over the past five years, has also got a guilty hand in the lack of engagement with real issues. Sponsors have their own agendas, and these agendas oftentimes don’t align with sentiments which may be deemed anti-anything. I’m not implying that hip-hop’s sole purpose is to raise awareness, or that blue collar workers don’t love or support mainstream South African hip-hop. Neither am I suggesting that mainstream rappers are incapable of composing socially conscious music. Rap music in the South Africa has surrendered wholly to the embrace of commercial radio song structures, resulting in mostly unimaginative, cookie-cutter songs achieving the most airplay. In the same breath, the scene is the healthiest it’s ever been. Some rappers are making a living off of their craft, while general interest from the public continues to gain momentum. People who were celebrating when Skwatta Kamp won a SAMA Award under the Best Hip-Hop Album category ten years ago have made the transition into adulthood, and with that passage comes a grander appreciation for the music they grew up listening to. Rap shows have transcended their former status as an exclusively male dominion, while the culture and its accompanying elements – grafitti, deejaying and breakdancing – are afforded greater airtime during peak hours on South African radio and television stations. Hip-hop landed in the Cape Flats in the early 80s, reared its head during the dying years of apartheid, went through multiple identity crises and then finally settled, albeit shakily, where it is today – as the love child of kwaito music and whatever the flavour of the moment is in the pop world. Over the next few weeks we’ll be bringing you an serialised exposé on the state of Mzansi hip hop in 2014. Extra We asked the African Hip-Hop Blog to compile a soundcloud playlist of ten top South African rap songs during the first part of 2014. Dig in and have a jam! [soundcloud url="https://api.soundcloud.com/playlists/38802479" params="auto_play=false&hide_related=false&show_comments=true&show_user=true&show_reposts=false&visual=true" width="100%" height="450" iframe="true" /] *Underground, in this context, shall be used to refer to any musical outfit with no songs on regular radio rotation. **An earlier version of this article appeared on Mahala. 

In 2014, African hip-hop has graduated from the bedroom and walked into the boardroom. It’s left its cape (baggy jeans) at the door and picked up a pair of tight-fitting pants. In extreme cases, hip-hop has shed the ‘urban’ look completely and chosen shiny suits; it’s lost its assumed roots in the underground and allowed the tastes of corporate organizations to percolate it. MTN runs the Nigerian music industry; alcohol brands own South African hip-hop; Nestle sponsors rappers in Senegal. The concept of music as service has all but disappeared. "Ngixel'i download link" is the new ‘where can I buy the CD.’ By virtue of it being a niche market, South African hip hop is feeling the pinch. Social media have tilted the fan-artist nexus acutely; people demand free music, the result of a generation which doesn’t grasp the concept of music as a service. It seemed to make sense – and still does – that giving away music for free makes more people aware of an artist while increasing the probability of retaining die-hard followers who'll hopefully fork out money for the album. This is a refrain pummeled as chief gospel to anyone who has an Internet connection, five minutes to spare, and an interest in ‘music trends,’ a ubiquitous term which outright dismisses the fact that things are done a bit differently in Africa. Yes, more people see an artist through free music giveaways. South Africa-based Cassper Nyovest had his song “Doc Shebeleza” downloaded well over two hundred thousand times when it was released earlier this year. He trended on twitter even! The second part, the one about retaining fans who will want to pay, is flawed! Cassper, or Driemanskap, or any of the artists who’ve managed to push big on-line numbers through offering free downloads may have gained visibility, but there’s yet to be evidence of an increase in music sales. Driemanskap’s “"iZulu Lelam” was, as of May 2013, the most downloaded song on the Kasimp3 portal. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Y_rPgTcJ8IU The push has been to partner with big brands over an extended period of time, a practice which raises many moral questions (especially with alcoholic brands) but sustains many an artists’ livelihood. Maftown Heights, a one-night celebration of artists who are affiliated – even tangentially – to Motswako, partnered with Flying Fish and Blackberry (and other media partners) to produce an outstanding event, all things considered. In theory, and indeed practice, brand-artist relationships work. But the hippie in me refuses to accept the if sports people are doing it counter-argument which has been posited to me before. One of the brands which has become vested in South African hip-hop, and hasn't been afraid to say as much, is Miller Genuine Draft. Not only did they bring Kendrick Lamar to South Africa, but they included a broad range of mainstream South African acts as support.

*

But this image of smoke and mirrors dressed in sleek television shows and punted as gospel is far from an accurate depiction of the majority of artists who still struggle to record, to get their music onto the radio, and to get featured in on-line and print publications. A war of intimidation happens daily on social networks; ‘struggling’ artists force-feed their followers links to their free music. It’s all still very agrarian down there. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vAYmyqEDnsQ Jozi’s weather can get really miserable really quickly. It’s particularly bad when you’re travelling in the traffic’s direction and stuffed – along with about thirty other human beings – inside a bus whose driver has yet to learn about safe driving. I’ve a chance to chat to Sarkodie, the Ghanaian emcee whose affiliation to Akon’s Konvict Music label snowballed his already-rising star to greater heights at home and abroad. I arrive to a locked gate in Houghton, the suburb at which Sarkodie will be shooting a video for ‘Pon di ting with the RnB singer Banky W. Fifteen minutes and two phonecalls later, the gate opens up. Samuel Forson, Sarkodie’s manager, ushers me inside. “Anything you need to know about Ghanaian hip-hop, let me know,” he’ll later tell me. Sesan Onguro is exchanging a few notes with Sarkodie and Banky W. Sesan, who’s also worked with D’banj and Ice Prince, is and energetic and easy-going director who, from first impressions, is like by everyone on the set. Video models criss-cross from one end of the room to the other, up the stairs where the make-up room is located, and around the lounge area where some of the scenes shall be shot. In two weeks’ time, a day before Christams, the video will air on Channel 0 and MTV Base – new-age pariahs/messiahs/saviours of African music. Prior to the arrival of MTv Base in 2005, Channel 0 had a monopoly on African music programming. That it was carried across different countries over the continent opened people on either sides of the equator to sounds other than the World Music rhetoric we’d been fed henceforth. It was an exciting time; 2Face’s “African girl” was just about the biggest song on the continent.

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This past December, Sarokodie concluded the last leg of his Rapperholic tour – Rapperholic being the title of his 2011 album which resulted from the (rumoured) venture with Konvict. The terms and conditions of the relationship had always been contested. The rumours were finally allayed when Akon himself announced that Sarkodie was never signed to Konvict Music Africa, adding that the artist – affectionately known as the Number One Obidi among his devoted fans – was supposed to be their inaugural signing in Ghana. “Unfortunately we couldn't get the deal together so the deal never closed,” he said. Regardless, Sarkodie’s profile is the highest it can ever be. His new album Sarkology has garnered him multiple awards at the Vodafone Ghana Music Awards, and he’s been nominated for a BET Best International Act: Africa award, and an MTV Africa Music Award. He’s also been the brand ambassador  for Samsung in Ghana. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uVDVi8knNLk The scope of hip-hop on the African continent is broad. There’s no one definitive sound that is distinctly African. Electro-chaabi is as much African as Didier Awadi’s mbalax-influenced rap songs; or AKA’s latest forays into sampling old-school house music songs. So are Blitz the Ambassador, Baloji, Youssoupha, or any of the myriad rappers across the diaspora. While booking agents at festivals still yearn for a version of Africa sold to them under the ‘World Music’ banner of yesteryear, African hip-hop is more interested in trying new ideas out – new ways of distributing music, sometimes with no label support. Blitz the Ambassador has spoken about how constant rejection from labels forced him into developing an independent mindset. Close to ten years since he started rapping, Blitz is one of the most widely-travelled musicians in the diaspora (alongside the Mighty Embassy Ensemble, his fascinating four-piece live band). His album Afropolitan Dreams is a work of wonder. Hip-hop on the continent is fascinating in that, despite there being no formalized music industry in some countries, and a non-existent hip-hop industry to speak of in others, more artists seem to be emerging, be it through independently-run blogs, or wider-reaching media such as satellite television. Besides Blitz the Ambassador, this first half of the year is likely to witness releases from Tumi Molekane (South Africa), Zone Fam (Zambia), and E.L. (Ghana).

One evening while channel surfing at home, I stumbled upon what sounded like a rap cypher* on the radio. Quickly, I got up to look for an empty cassette tape nearby. Once I found one (a see-through Sonotech C-60 if memory serves right), hurriedly inserted it into the tape deck, and pressed the record button. That moment marked my introduction to the Sprite Rap Activity Jam on YFM, a show less acknowledged than, say, Le Club for contributing towards the growth of South African hip-hop. Involved in that specific cypher were Skwatta Kamp and Asylum Trybe, two underground crews which had unsettled beef with one another. The former went on to obtain a major label recording deal, sell thousands of albums, win awards, and tour the African continent before imploding; the latter remained unsigned and wallowed in obscurity. Rap Activity was a platform for emcees in the Gauteng province to showcase their music. Everyone featured at some point – a young Proverb hungry for recognition; an upbeat Skwatta Kamp excited about their first official release Khut en joyn; a lyrically-vicious Pro (formerly Prokid) rapping with the aforementioned Asylum Trybe way before he released his breakout song ‘Soweto.’ Anchored by Paul Mnisi (alias Rudeboy Paul) and Oscar Mdlongwa (alias Oskido), it became--alongside Harambe, another seminal show on the radio station--a chapel for me. I made mental notes of the regulars--Gorgeous Flash was an interesting one--and the once-off thrillers who'd leave everyone in awe. Up until that point, all I knew about South African hip-hop was limited to POC, Black Noise, and the area called 'the Cape Flats.' Cape Town was the mother city of rap, or so went the conventional wisdom whose disparaging echoes can be heard to this day. In retrospect, that narrative was the sanitized version of events. The South African hip-hop story was being packaged as television inserts whose reality felt at odds with not only the people who told them, but with the environment(s) from which the stories being told emanated. The hood served as a meaningless backdrop; no back-stories for the sake of context, and definitely no space to honour those who either came before or came from elsewhere in the country. What the Rap Activity Jam did for me was offer a means to discover what exists beyond the music; to know that besides Skwatta being one of the biggest groups in South Africa, they are also a couple of homies from the East Rand and Alexandra who would change how hip-hop was perceived in the country. Through radio, and through websites such as Africasgateway and sahiphop.co.za, it was possible to connect to a scene which I was physically removed from. Because YFM was a regional radio station, the only way to access it was through the digital satellite service DSTV's radio bouquet. For me, it became a means to connect with what went on beyond Maseru’s close-knit circles, her preference for the familiar, and her absolute rejection of what mattered the most to me at that time–rap music. YFM was the definition of cool; people in my own hood would rave endlessly about it. The logic was that South African youth needed a voice to reflect them and the changing times. Impassively, we the outsiders embraced every detail of the marketing ploy. We were drunk with youth; fired up with passion; and high on life! To those who had a satellite dish, YFM was the it! My introduction to the essence of South African hip-hop through this most unconventional of means spoke of the culture’s ability to transcend most barriers. I'd resort to recording shows on VHS tape when there weren't any cassettes. Beyond the novelty of a youth-oriented radio station and a couple of niche websites (well, africasgateway was clocking huge figures at one point, to be fair), there was a desire to connect with and to understand hip-hop as a whole. My view of South African hip-hop throughout this whole series of posts is therefore infused with these experiences of an outsider - these unknowns, on-going discoveries, and attempts to capture the culture's evolution as honestly as possible. * The association is inspired by the circular shape on-lookers adopt as a rapper busts rhyme, oftentimes to the rhythm of a beatbox. * Photo Credits: Image of Shaheen Ariefdien of Prophets of da City is screen grab from the video "Never Again" (top); Ready D image (Red Bull / Mail & Guardian).

I wasn’t sure of how to react when I opened the Youtube link to Kwality’s “Official Lion King.” video, first uploaded on May 17. What is this, and who is he, I wondered. While waiting for the video to buffer, I read the comments, nine in total at that time. (The video had 87 comments and 6,567 views by 10.30 this morning). “F*ck u dude!!” read the first one. “DAFUQ??!!!!” followed another later down in the comment thread. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wulMdCsgDBA Like myself, the people who left comments seemed to be in a predicament, uncertain of how to interpret this … this confusing visual concoction (though what he does reminds of IceJJFish; who later turned out to be part organic internet phenom and the product of some savvy marketing and production). If you can't bear to watch and need a summary, here goes: an outside establishing shot is intercut with Kwality waking up from his bed to sit on its edge. It’s all very sudden; within the first ten seconds, we’ve heard the words “my lion king, my lion king” uttered repeatedly atop a beat whose direction I’m still trying to figure out. The irksome refrain is amplified by the equally-irritating (mis-)usage of auto-tune. What follows next you’ll have to see yourself. Where is he from? I was curious, so I reached out to the internet gods in an attempt to secure an interview with Kwality (he is on Twitter)--to hear, firstly, who he is. Most importantly, it was to acknowledge my own misgivings in judging him (, and to let him tell his story. I’m still waiting for the response. For now, enjoy the video.

* An earlier version of this post is crossposted on the African Hip Hop.

I arrive in Braamfontein twenty minutes early, at 6pm, for a meeting with Sebastiano Zenasi (or Seb), Luc Vermeer, and their manager Aaron Peters. It’s the night of their album launch, their second since 2012’s Third Floor landed them in the electronic music spotlight and enabled them to get book at nearly every major music festival in South Africa. Sebastian is currently on the decks warming up the dancefloor at Kitcheners, a much-loved venue located in the heart of the city. Later, his partner Luc will let loose a well-executed set featuring the latest in gritty rap music–from Pusha T and Kendrick Lamar; to Action Bronson and Roc Marciano; and a bit of Drake for balance. Seb and Luc are Christian Tiger School, a Cape Town-based production duo whose sound used to exist explicitly within the confines of J.Dilla’s school of beatmaking. The quest to explore their full range means that the Christian Tiger School ‘sound’ (hear the Questlove-endorsed Carlton Banks) is slowly making its way away from that territory. On their latest offering Chrome Tapes, they sway between hard-hitting hip-hop drums, snake past EDM territory, and give a wink at jazz’s–and other genres'–direction. Chrome Tapes is Christian Tiger School on an upward trajectory. They present new ideas, or new ways of interpreting configurations and arrangements which have already been explored. The music is immersive; their drums are more layered; their sets more considered. Our interview doesn’t happen right away. When we do talk the next day, Seb tells me that he’s been listening to a lot of house. It bleeds through to the music. Luc, in contrast, is extremely selective about the type of house music he listens to. “[I listened to] like, four house songs regularly throughout the past year” he states. Both have learnt a lot over the two year cycle since Third Floor got released. Seb has a side project called Yes In French and collaborates with Nic van Reenen as part of his (Nic’s) live ensemble, Fever Trails. Luc’s always onto next-level beatmaking as Desert Head. This Johannesburg show will be their last in South Africa for at least two weeks. They flew themselves to New York last year to play a couple of shows and see if anything might come from interacting with people in that scene. Through those moderately-sized gigs, they managed to get booked to perform at Okayafrica’s SXSW showcase this year alongside fellow Capetonian Petit Noir. They’ll fly out on Tuesday, play some shows, and head towards the West Coast to explore the LA beat scene as well as see if more fruitful exchanges occur. Aaron mentions Brainfeeder, possibly. The group has recently inked a management deal with Black Major, a Cape Town-based agency. By association, they’re in the same league as John Wizards and Fantasma (Spoek Mathambo’s new project).  In short, things are looking pretty fucking good for Luc and Seb! Check out this video in which Christian Tiger School speak about how they plan to release this album and how they tackle late night slots at festivals. It’s an Africa is a Country TV collaboration between myself and Leila Dougan. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LyhozI2l04k *Christian Tiger School have a crowdfunding project to help them get to Primavera Festival in Spain. You can lend your support here.

I got the chance to be part of the Redbull Basscamp in Johannesburg during October 2013. For six days, a unique cross-section of hand picked South African musicians holed up in central Johannesburg for lectures from music industry heavyweights in the morning (Hugh Masekela stopped by), followed in the afternoon by studio sessions which would, at times, stretch into the night. It's the same concept as the Redbull Music Academy, a music grad school of sorts through whose doors the likes of Black Coffee and Flying Lotus have emerged. As an observer, I was granted first-hand access into the collective composition geniuses of all the participants - the jaw-droppingly talented Nonku Phiri jammed with Rob Brink, drummer for Beatenberg and electronic music producer of note; Okmalumkoolkat spat the grittiest lines in a  mini-rap cypher with Bra Sol from the group Big FKN Gun; and South Africa's rap phenomenon Cassper Nyovest sat at a computer workstation laying the foundations to a beat which was to feature Cape Town’s very own Youngsta and Johannesburg-based Durbanite Moonchild Sanelly, among others. Hlasko, Illite MC, Satori, and Card on Spokes (real name Shane Cooper. He won a South African Music Award for his album Oscillations recently) were other names among the participants. Basically, Basscamp was a musical madhouse; a four-floor gateway to intimate musical moments with artists at the bleeding edge of South Africa’s creative culture; an opportunity for great people to exchange ideas and make incredible music. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qD6dAEm6ENY When all was done and dusted, I reviewed the footage I'd managed to capture and, using interviews conducted with Hlasko (that's him above with Nonko), Ox++ (Brink), Bra Sol, and Fever Trails (Nick van Reenen of the band Bateleur), compiled this ten-minute perspective on South Africa’s under-appreciated left field music scene. It’s called Breaking Boundaries; let your imagination take control. Quotable:

I'm very bad at genre categorization, it's always been something I've been quite anti I think; I feel like it's constricting. So calling yourself something separates you from whatever else is happening...it's not about playing music to just your friends, it's about playing music to whoever might enjoy it.

**There's a gallery here.

Two weeks ago, Club Zen in downtown Johannesburg got packed to its rafters with hip-hop afficionados who came by the carloads to support Scrambles4Money, a South African battle rap circuit established in 2012. The auspicious Talk is Cheap event, now in its second installment, had Johannesburg's Tumi Molekane and Atlanta's Ness Lee as headliners. Tumi, a battle rap fan and truly remarkable emcee, brought infernal punchlines from the word go. The full house reached a loud crescendo on an average of every four bars over the three-odd minutes granted per round. He exuded confidence, even managing a quick rebound from a memory blackout during his surefire first verse.  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1K9fIfVAE0o In the youtube video uploaded earlier last week (it's currently Battle of the Week on Reddit), Ness Lee stands his ground. In true battle rap fashion, he appears unperturbed; he stands by, seemingly absent-mindedly, as Tumi casts menacing lines in his direction. It's a way of saying: "Try your darndest homie, I'm not moved!" Ness Lee then attempts a couple of lukewarm one-liners to get the audience hyped up. It's not until well into his verse that any large-scale response ensues. "One of your fans said that you were outside my league and that you would eat me for lunch," raps Nes while hunching to have a clear look at Tumi's stomach. "I agree!" he continues. Cue: Thunderous applause! Battles are a precious part of hip-hop culture. Over the past years, pre-written battle raps and battle rap leagues have sprung up in different areas around the world - from Singapore, to the UK, to Canada where Scrambles4Money organizer and a superior battle emcee Gini Grindith went to participate in King Of The Dot's World Domination in 2013. Battle rap showcases are entertaining to watch. It's fascinating to think that for about a month, all two rappers probably do is do background research and come up with all manner of dirt to use against their proponent on the day of battle. More than a clash of egos, this was a match of two emcees who might as well be on the same level if their rhymes are anything to go by. This wasn't a judged battle, but opinion seems skewed towards Tumi's side. He had the home crowd advantage and used location-specific details as bait to get audience reaction. Nes Lee held his own down, he did a bit of research (example: the "*140#" reference). Ultimately, and this is purely by the number of times the crowd went apeshit, Tumi emerged the more superior of the two. His performance in the last round is nothing short of sheer excellence! However it was all hugs and pounds after the referee called it. Nes Lee, a battle rap champion in his own right, tweeted that it was "an absolute pleasure" to engage Tumi in battle. It's this trait of sportsmanship which makes battle rap exciting. South African audiences are still getting used to the concept of prepared rap battles. In time, there'll even be lower noise levels - though it's hard to not loose it when a punchline like: "Fuck your struggle, you know what we call black power?/ when ESKOM lights cut out!" is uttered. This three-round, thirty-minute opus may very well be the best on the continent by far. * Opening image taken from the Scrambles4Money Facebook page.

Back To The City is a hip-hop and street fashion festival held in Johannesburg's Newtown Precinct every year on April 27th, South Africa's Freedom Day. The festival has seen unprecedented growth since its inception in 2006. From a free festival held on one stage under the M1 highway, Back To The City now boasts, among other things, three performance stages, a skateboard rig, and a 20, 000-plus audience. This videos is a photojournal of some moments captured at this year's festival. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oqtP39fBRB4 * Music by Becomingphill. Check out his soundcloud.

With no Volume to his name, it seemed almost impossible to imagine South Africa-based self-proclaimed poet/emcee Tumi Molekane as a solo artist. He had released two albums before forming a band: A dream led to this and Tao of Tumi, the latter which, if memory serves right, had an accompanying anthology. Yet it's the years between 2002 and 2012 that Tumi's profile rose to admirable heights. As Tumi of Tumi and the Volume, he recorded music and toured extensively with Paulo Chibanga (drums), Dave Bergman (bass) and Tiago Correia-Paulo (guitars). After ten years, the majority of which were spent on the road in Europe, Tumi put a lid on a part of his life which had not only come to define him, but had also loomed large over the other projects released outside of the quartet – notably his own A dream led to this (2007) and Whole worlds (2011). A mere six months after the break-up, Tumi had assembled a new backing band and begun performing songs from his soon-to-be-released album Rob the Church. A while afterwards, he appeared in front of a full house at the Market Theatre in Johannesburg to present the same set of songs, some of which had gained traction among audiences through their accessibility on-line. It was hard to not draw parallels to a night almost twelve years ago when, backed by The Volume, and with guests including trumpeter Marcus Wyatt and vocalist Pebbles, Tumi and his Volume recorded their seminal Live @ the Bassline album. Tiago talks about those years here. The night at the Market Theatre felt new; a promise of something else; something untested and daunting and seemingly-insurmountable. It's when telling stories that Tumi is most in his element. Those are the songs which stick; songs like Yvonne or People of the light; or Bophelo ba me and Villages and Malls; songs which deal with fully-formed human beings and lend nuance to their lives, like the housewife living her life vicariously through television soapie characters on Moving picture frames, or the BBEE high-flyer gunning for a better future of the cost on Mr Gogetit. Feel so good is Tumi in sexy mode. Ziyon, known better as the vocalist from house music collective Liquid Deep, proviceds the musical and vocal accompaninent. "Tumi and Ziyon had a mutual admiration for each other's talents and wanted to lend them to a sexy ballad about courtship and philandering," reads the blurb on soundcloud. Molekane represents a class of rappers not afraid to takes risks and chances; he'll feature on a song with L-Tido, then go head-to-head with a battle emcee of the calibre of Ness Lee and easily hold his own ground. In short, he's the emcee's emcee, and this collaboration is further proof of his range. * I did the images too.

Lesotho's Prime Minister and leader of the coalition government Tom Thabane has found love: ‘It is one of the best decisions that I ever made in my entire life,’ the statesman said in a recent newspaper interview (in Sotho). The circumstances in which the news was revealed, was less rosy: a bomb explosion and unidentified gunmen shooting at his lover's house.

I discovered the three piece Afrikaans outfit Bittereinder through the internet and fell in love with them because of their live performance. Their music, a bass-heavy flurry of high-energy drops and subdued melodies, develops a different personality on stage, often in stark contrast to the studio recordings. Bleeps become filtered echoes; drum patterns change, or disappear completely. Bittereinder is Afrikaans for 'bitter ender'.

I’ve had Shane Cooper's "Oscillations" in my possession for the past four months. From the onset, it was clear that it wasn’t music I’d be content with listening passively to. It was necessary for me to live with it; to let it disturb me and put me in a state of unrest. This I did because the magnitude of the compositions demanded it of me; they weren’t easy melodic passages but complex and layered meditations on jazz and its many forms. Who was I to not oblige? http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Vkn2MkbL3vY As last year’s Standard Bank Young Artist of the Year for Jazz, an honor which has been bestowed to regular collaborator Kyle Shepherd for the forthcoming year, Shane Cooper had the financial backing to record and release compositions which, as he noted in our interview earlier this year, had been laying around for over three years. When we had a chat again recently prior the release of “Oscillations,” Cooper pointed out that there were only two ‘old’ songs on the album--material he’d been playing in the many band formations he’s active in. So instead of sharing the countless stream-of-consciousness notes I wrote while spending time with “Oscillations,” I thought it best to share bits of what Cooper revealed about some of the songs on the album. It is, by any stretch of the imagination, an excellent project. Carlo Mombelli, that scientist and experimental frontier-leader who brought us “Prisoners of Strange,” oversaw production duties. This is the very same man responsible for Cooper’s instrument of choice. In fact, as Cooper himself revealed, Mombelli is the reason why he chose to pursue music. Below are some ruminations, courtesy of Shane Cooper, about some songs on the album. The personnel, which includes two past recipients of the Standard Bank nod, speaks volumes of the calibre of musicians Cooper is associated with: Bokani Dyer (piano, rhodes, electric organ); Kesivan Naidoo (drums, cymbals, cowbells); Reza Khota (guitar); Justin Bellairs (alto saxophone); and Buddy Wells (Tenor saxophone).

Broken Blues: I co-wrote that song with Reza [Kota, guitarist]. I started with the bassline and then took it to him, and we developed the melody together. Destination unknown: I wrote a lot of that on the piano. Dead Letters: I wrote it on an old analog synthesizer. I just came up with this melody that evolves; it's based on a very simple theme, but it evolves and moves through different chords. Shadowplay: I wrote it on an electric bass. I changed the tuning of the bass. I downtuned some of the strings and tried to write a structure on the bass without thinking  about the theory of it. I didn't know what the chord would be, so I moved my hands around and just found a whole bunch of chord sequences that made sense to me sonically. And then I wrote the melody for that. That was putting myself in a place where I didn't think about theory or common chord sequences. Funnily enough, when you look at it the chord sequences are quite common, but I wouldn't have probably come up with them if I didn't tune the bass like that. Drop Down Deconstruct: I wrote that on the guitar. I had different songs sketched out. I went back and looked at a whole bunch of things and chose a melody from one, another melody from the other, and tried to combine them. That didn't work, so I replaced one with another, basically combining all these melodies. If you listen to Drop Down, there are a bunch of different sections. It's like a drop-down menu. I cut and pasted a whole bunch of ideas that seemed to work together somehow without that being the original intention.

Cooper says that the process of composing varies. He’ll usually sit on an instrument and have a jam session until something sticks out, then record the interesting bits onto his computer or mobile phone--whichever is most convenient at that moment. He often composes on instruments he’s not very good at. “It breaks me out of my comfort zone and makes me think of different patterns,” he says in conclusion. Shane Cooper’s album “Oscillations” is out on iTunes.

Few rappers on the continent have been as prolific as Sarkodie this year. The Ghanaian emcee has released a steady stream of songs and videos, all in the lead-up to his album which will be titled Sarkology. So we found it necessary to touch base with him during a video shoot in Johannesburg for "Pon Da Thing", his collaborative song with Nigeria's Banky W. This is how the chop-up went. I sort of feel that your last album didn't get the type of push it deserved, despite the GOOD Music link-up. Why do you think that was? Sarkodie: I think rap is a bit hard to break to international markets. Rap is a subset of music; it's more of an option. But music is more of singing, no matter what the genre is, the moment the vocal comes in you need to sing. Rap is the only different thing in music; it's a bit more of what people like. If someone doesn’t like hip-hop, they don't want to listen to you. It's a bit hard for every African rapper, not just me. We're all trying our best to take it out there. But I'm not that content of a human being, I don't go with 'I've done the best already!' That album was dope, but I think there are doper things about to happen, I believe in that. There's nothing going to waste, it's more of a preparation towards bigger things. Rapperholic was my previous album. To me it was really dope, and it made some waves across Africa. We have a new structure for the new album. I'm still looking at my fifth or sixth album to do the magic that I want to do. I normally don't release my album without expectations that 'oh, this year I want to be the best artist in the whole world!' But I think it takes time. You don't wanna miss that journey of going from nothing to something; you don't wanna cut it short. You're gonna be nervous, you're gonna be disappointed...you don't wanna miss that. I think that was a start from Sarkodie. Is there a circuit which enables you to tour as a musician in Ghana? That's what we do after every release, or even before a release. Big ups to D-Black, he was the first person to do that. I was on board with him. We were brainwashed into believing that you're supposed to have a big company doing a show before you can fill up a stadium anywhere. But one thing we forget is that the fans like you even more than the companies do. So why don't you do it yourself? So for now, I've been doing tours back in Ghana. I'm still on the Rapperholic tour. When I go back I still have some shows to do. It's pretty cool doing tours back in Ghana, and I do it. The Ghanaian rap scene seems to be in a good state at the moment. Where do you see it headed? I have a plan. I don't know about others, but for me, it's about staying original and trying to be yourself and trying to make people accept you for who you are. I started rapping in English, and I can really rap in English. But I feel like when you rap with these Americans, that's where you can see the gap, and I don't want that. I want to be a king in my own zone. When I meet you, we're doing a king-king thing, we're not doing like 'I'm helping Sarkodie.' No, it’s not gonna be that way. The hip-hop scene back in Ghana has a future, there are a couple of guys coming up. I was scared because I was not hearing people rapping again. I didn't have time to really sit down and think about it, but when I had a moment, I tried to point out rappers back in Ghana, and there were none! Everybody was shifting to singing because that was what was making it across borders. As I told you, rap is really hard to cut across. So everybody stopped rapping, and it was just me and I think Adam, he's really dope! But now we have some people coming in, people like Kofi Kinaata, you need to check him out, and he’s dope! And we have T-Flow... What about a crew like Bradez? They're like my old school mates, we started together. They've been there since I started, so Bradez is old school. I'm talking about the new cats who are taking the Ghanaian hip-hop to the next level. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fLTnt_-Mr3U What was the thinking behind starting your own clothing label? There was a point in time where I felt like fans were really appreciating my music, not just my music but me as a person. People were just making clothes without informing me, and just wearing them -- just to have my face on the clothes, which was touching. So it was good timing: at least move away from the music and do something a bit personal. They wanna live Sarkodie; they wanna wear something like what Sarkodie's wearing; they want good business partners to come in, so that's what we started doing. Why should I buy your new album when it comes out? I can see you're a hip-hop fan, you're gonna love this album! I forgot to mention Joey B; he's a dope rapper from Ghana and he's on the album as well. (Listen to 'Tonga' here.) The album is called Sarkology. Trust me, a lot went into the album. It's thirty tracks, you can't go wrong! Of course I needed dance music, like the one you've just heard with me and Banky, that's more for the ladies. But you know me, I like to go hard, so I have dope songs! "Illuminati" (video above) is on the album as well. It’s crazy, I don't even have a word for it. It's dope! Lastly, how do you write your raps? Do you come up with the melody/flow first, or do the words take precedence? First I was more focused on what I was saying. That was when I was limited to Ghana because they understand what I'm saying. So don’t need a style, I just have to say...when I have a beat, I'll just say whatever I have to say. If it's funny, then people will laugh. But then I started to attract people from outside of Ghana, so I had to change my style. That's when you go with the skill. So when you have a beat going beatboxes -- a mean 4/4 pattern -- when you put that down and you put the words in it, you have a dope rap right there.