Glynis O’Hara on Tsepo Tshola, Best Male Vocalist nominee
HIS music may have captured the imagination enough for his legions of fans to dub him the Village Pope, but gravelly singer/composer Tsepo Tshola has never yet been nominated for or won a music award.
And, surprisingly, neither did his former group, Sankomota, win anything.
Which is all the more reason to celebrate his double South African Music Association (Sama) award nomination this year – for Best Male Vocalist and Best Single, Akubutle (Don’t Hassle).
“I’m feeling very good about the nominations,”he said, beaming from ear to ear in the dining area at Bop Studios, where he’s busy working on his fourth solo album, a gospel outing tentatively called Reconciliation with My God.
“Whether I win or lose doesn’t matter, it just feels so good to have been nominated.”
Is he going to drive down from Mmabatho for the ceremony at the Civic on Saturday night? “Absolutely! I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
His rivals in best male vocals are from opposite ends of the Afrikaans music spectrum, Johannes Kerkorrel and Steve Hofmeyr. For best single, the competition is Bright Blue’s Open your Eyes and Mean Mr Mustard’s I Can’t Get Enough.
With a strong, hoarse voice put to good use in frequently upbeat songs he mostly composes himself, Tsepo began his music career in his home country of Lesotho with Sankomota in the 1970s. His first recording was in 1984, a Shifty album that went by the band’s name. More group albums followed on the Gallo and CCP labels and the group moved to South Africa in the late ’80s. In 1993 he put his first solo album, The Village Pope, and as far as fans were concerned the title suited the singer and it’s stuck ever since.
However, up to now there’s been no recognition in terms of awards, either from the three-year-old Sama awards, or from their precursor, the OKTV Awards, which is a pity, because the group performed excellent music that also hooked a large audience, as has the man. But that’s being put to rights now. Akubutle, the nominated song, concerns a man who successively visits three separate groups of friends, progressively distorting the news he’s picked up at each stop, until, in the end, his “broken telephone” version of events causes a fight.
His lyrics deal with day-to-day life, he says, as well as issues like the divisions between South Africans and the need to bridge those gaps and build a unified nation.
“I always put in messages of encouragement and motivation for the listeners. I’m privileged enough to have a platform and I believe you must have something to say. If there’s no message, then what’s the point? Unless, of course, it’s instrumental music.”
But as for that old black magic between consenting adults … “I’ve never written a love song in my life! It’s far too difficult, love is such a complex issue, it’s misinterpreted, misperformed and causes confusion … Promises and lies mess me up.”
A widower, he lives in Midrand with his two sons – “I love them dearly” – one 13 and the other 7, now in boarding school in Swaziland. His favoured forms of exercise – “thanks for reminding me” – are long walks and cycling. But mostly his life revolves around music. As for drugs and alcohol, he says he’s always ignored backstage excesses. “I’m in control of myself. I drink the cognac, it doesn’t drink me.”
Tsepo also plays percussion and is learning the sax and says he composes “from my head, either the lyrics of the melody come first. It amazes me how it happens.” He’s also trying to write a book, an autobiography. “It’s not easy, it’s the most difficult thing I’ve come across but I’m on about the tenth chapter.”
How does he like fame? “Sometimes it’s convenient and exciting, other times it’s boring and frustrating. You have to learn to handle it, to handle people’s excitement. People just walk past and grab the top of your head or chin and say something about who you are and how much they like you.
“I’ve learnt not to let it upset me, but it’s nice to be treated normally.”