Monday, February 20, 2012

The Kids Are Alright



The truth is their not. The ones in the rural hinterlands of the Eastern Cape at least. These are images I was only to happy to snap at the time. I was thereabouts on first few days of 2012 in the almost idyllic beach village area of Ubomvu and Coffee Bay to 'escape', 'discover and enjoy a unique taste of rural Africa!' in the words of the online brochure. It was that. But I suppose it was too the holiday season and Coffee Bay is a working holiday destination. The job is to enact the allure in language in locale after all. But lest I stray too far from the message I wish to carry in this post, about the little people.
Ingane zasemakhaya are growing up granted against the backdrop of a wealth of land covered at every corner with the unspoil of fauna and flora, littered in the most intimate of common place fashion with the four legged means of livestock and transportation, the same four legged means that double in as company and guides. The setting so picturesque is rendered hapless by the poverty of the people who remain behind and the receding remoteness us holiday makers turn our heels on when the tide dies down. When left behind the village ceases to inhabit an escapist ideal and resembles more and more a place of little choice and slim chances.
In the morning on our drive out whilst taking in the vast surface area I spotted a pair. Adolescent black girls in uniform seemingly on their way to school, some far away building, I imagine, as there was nothing but grass as far as certainly our eyes could make out, when we looked back and ahead. It was early morning. We drove on and the girls marched on.
What it must then be for the little girls above to whom we gave a lift on our way upwards and into the remote hills I keep asking myself. School is far. The shops are far. The clinic is far. The doctor further. Couldnt spot a bank or a government building and whilst this may appeal to me for a dazzling moment it is a potential halving culture in which to be brought up. I greatly enjoy the area for all of the above but its signficantly lamentable economic captivity for those living in it, those growing in the face of it. I cant acurately tell if I am sounding patronsing in the vain of the opportunistic American man who took to 'The Internets' with that kony2012 sorcery but honestly what black people in Coffee Bay - and pretty damn much everywhere - need is economic freedom without further adue.
When.

Tuesday, February 7, 2012

M.I.A. - Bad Girls (Official Video)



This is the definition of creativity. The marriage of all manner of cultural and philosophical influences at the alter of fearlessness for our great post-modern love of making a mixed statement! The film art, styling, characterization and the music in M.I.A's bad ass Bad Girls video are an iconoclastic testament to this. The ever kitch, ever self brandishing, ever irreverent, ever cool ego and fierce sexy M.I.A. with her penchant for political incorrectness pulls this off quite dangerously with airs of mischief.

There's something ordinary, something diva, something left field, something iconic about her that has has me rooting for her. Just the existence of this video signals a middle finger to 'exotic' ideas and distortions widely held about the Middle Eastern/Asian/ and yes even the African Continent Black of our species - read 'War Torn' & 'Religious Suicide Bombers' and please also read 'Are you a Terrorist?' and MJ's 'Liberian Girl' - whilst administering a salutory knod to the differences. Showing up the hind reaching nature of some Western practices, namely the Othering of pigmented nations, as crassly unaware and superficial. That people have reckless, dangerous fun, that girls love swearing, sex and the painting on of too much red lip color, that young people gone debauched off MTV pop culture can be reported is an experience not limited to the descendents of George W. Bush and certainly not unheard of in the Iraq, Kazakhstan, Jerusalem and The Philistines either.

I support the grand mixed statement that M.I.A. is making herein. Its all fun, its all dangerous, its all unsafe and its all dust spun up the air in the wake of car tyres shrieking to a hazardous halt. It is, too, a reclaiming of the onus from the 'Fore/Four Fathers' to subvert images en route the imagining of relevant ones.

Drink up. Get Drunk



Thursday, February 2, 2012

Free Falling from the musical skyscraper that is Zero 7




Today I put in my earphones and clicked on a link that promised some Zero 7. Knowing only of this British band's musical lyricism and propensity to give an ear fondle so earth shattering and tear jerking, I completely gave of my undiluted attention. And a transfer it was! Nobly called "Likufanele" the heart tipping and subtly invading electronica studio sound plays to a praise hymn or ingoma rendered in spellbinding zulu folk choral chanting. The title is taken from lyrics so simple, so mighty reciting 'Igama obizwa ngalo likufanele' which means 'The name by which they call you suits you' How poetic and apt and what is your name if not an ode to you?

If nothing else this piece of ingenious fusion fine art will make you feel and leave you wanting. Or if you're me it'll bring an embarrassing tear to your weepy left eye!

Well up. Get Drunk.

Monday, January 30, 2012

Kiss of Life: I Said Its a Wonderful Year:










One old day some vague weeks back I was droning through yet another marathon of the mundane, pacing the overworked cursor in my PC monitor down email after trite Microsoft Outlook email about another 'please advise approval', as one does. It's at times like these, which seem to have become many of late!, that I reach for my compact music player around here somewhere. You know how it goes, the 'man's' routine had bled the feeling out of me and left me frighteningly in limbo. Just a dose of that good music, that good sheeet would afford me that coveted revival. And a kiss of life it was.

Enter into the hallowed listening room power house producer, CEO, ambassador for the NAACP (& Duke University Prof!) 9th Wonder clad in his recent offering, The Wonder Year's. This take on the mix tape is coming up unmatched at this moment in my world with an old soul retrospective layering in the production. Its a deft and sufficing mix of beat-making and hook lacing played to part obnoxious, part romantic, part erotic, part sinister, part uplifting all aspirational all mad skills rhyming and MC-ing. Featuring the ever prolific likes of Phonte of Phontigallo and Foreign Exchange fame, Terrace Martin and Marsha Ambrosius among a host of talent and hip hops newest and finest this here is 9th Wonder's ace production and it comes out highly recommended... and highly repeated on said compact music player!

Tracks to check out (but definitely not limited to these) include Streets of Music, Never Stop Loving You and One Night. Click on the link to catch a glimpse of the man behind the greatness.

Also please be advised dearest hip hop head and newcommer to diarise an April future date for the imminent pulling-in of one 9th Wonder and your favourite said MC Phonte. Seasoned crooner, rhymer and word smith Kabomo is set to pave the way for an auspicious night. Stage set up downtown Joburg at the Bassline. Unremitting thanks to the chaps at Urban Phenomenon Entertainment. Their on Facebook. Perhaps I might just put to good use those 'poke' and 'like' buttons afterall.




Listen Up. Drink Up.

Thursday, December 8, 2011

Now leaving the state of grace



The thing about life is that one day you'll die. I remember the moment I wandered by this expression a time ago. I laughed a nervous mix of amusement and resign at the wit, at the frankness and at the certainty of the handful of words in one line of one sentence - with life as a subject and dying as the proverbial 'doing word'- to sum up the secretly insecure, fundamentally paranoid, frequently disturbing, emotionally scouring, outrightly brave, seeking, tireless and hopeful project called life. Because life must be the surreal, haplessly super real thing in front of you as much as it is the ironic laughter of the gods in the receding background. So upwards, downwards always onwards, greetings, godspeed and goodbye.

Say yes and no. Care more and less. Stop, look up and marvel. Walk on. Feel your heart beat and feel it skip a beat. Love is great, if only because it flies in the face of fear. So in the end its probably good to be graceful. Be you.

I'm Kuntha and I have something to say.
And no this is not a blog about fashion nor is it a self help page of sorts. Its about entering and leaving the state of grace and other news that don't see the light of front or even back page day, reviews, sounds, musings, theories, people, babies, dogs and unicorns. Conversation. Activism. Fights that happy people have, the sick baseline of that song that every time I heard it, it tipped my heart rate over. Because whether its fact or fiction is besides the point.

PS: In lieu of my overlywordy tendencies some where up there is a half-lengthy quote from an unnamed writer after my own thumping heart. (click on it if you find yourself squinting)

Drink up and Get Drunk