/ 15 September 2006

Gugs grabs the globe

Just as the Sowetan township of Zola is a cloning lab for kwaito artists, so Gugs churns out “DJs” (the reggae term for MCs) by the minute. This dependable assembly line is a direct result of the local culture of “skanks”, the roving reggae dances that surfaced in the Eighties, that still exist today in the form of “dancehalls”.

A witness to the history of these events is Zolile Mathikinca, better known around the world as Zoro. Although he discovered the power of song in church, it was the weed and booze he sold to feed the family after his father died that bought him his first drum machine.

By the mid-Nineties, the shack behind his mother’s house had become a community studio of sorts, housing a sprawling collective of MCs known as the Fabulous Crew. Their blueprint was a kwaito-based sound fused with elements of hip-hop and reggae.

As the challenges of musical success forced the group to lose dead weight, by 1997 only Jesse Dan, a local youth who Zoro had taken under his wing, and Crosby, his rapping cousin, were left.

“I had to force Crosby to sing,” recalls Zoro. “He had a beautiful voice, but was not into reggae, even though it was his father who had introduced me to it.” The Chronic Clan emerged out of the ashes of the Fab Crew, and was later joined by the charismatic reggae singer-DJ, Black Dillinger.

The Clan’s content then, as now, predominantly focused on “ghetto people songs”, which tore down Babylon “downpressors”, celebrated the weed and held an unflinching allegiance to righteousness and Rasta “livity”.

Crosby remembers the period between 1997 and 2001 as one of daily mic sessions, songwriting and performing. “We had nothing but a big vision of blowing [apart] and sharing stages with international artists, but South Africa was not ready for our music.”

In 2001, after an SABC-facilitated album failed to materialise, Dillinger, an artist operating strictly within the contemporary roots reggae idiom, left the group to do his own thing. He frequently appeared on stage with premier Cape Town reggae band Azania, which was anchored by Wakhile Xhalisa’s dubwise bass.

In 2004, the Cape Town-based African Dope label released a compilation called African Dope Sound System, where the Clan featured prominently, showcasing their individual and combined skills to Roach’s jungle-laced productions. Zoro, by then, was already in Sweden, having been spotted by Juju Records, owned by Swedish rap-star Timbuktu.

Dan, Dillinger and Crosby left for Germany in May 2005, performing at the annual Wurzburg Africa Festival as part of the African Dope Sound System entourage. Dillinger remained in Berlin to ride the success of his track Big Trouble, which had made it on to the local Riddim Magazine cover CD.

Dan and Crosby returned to Europe this year with African Dope and later embarked on an ill-advised month-long tour of Europe with a dubious German world-music promoter.

After spending a total of four months in Europe the pair are back home, pondering their next move. “Right now the plan is to go back and do more works to promote ourselves because here we are kind of stuck,” says Crosby. “We could go to Sweden and link up with Zoro to do a Chronic Clan album, or go to Germany because even there, we did make some recordings.”

Should the crew make it to Germany before November, they will find Dillinger on heavy rotation in the sound systems and the airwaves, having already released a few successful singles on high-profile compilations with the likes of new-school reggae stars such as Turbulence and Gentleman. If they get there in November they will find Dillinger on a European tour, promoting his debut album Live and Learn (released on the German indie label MKZWO), or supporting Jamaican star Chezidek’s European tour.

When I called him last week, he was preparing to meet former Black Uhuru singer Michael Rose. “We were playing in a festival some weeks ago, so he’s going to do a dubplate [a once-off exclusive pressing] for my friend,” says Dillinger. “We’ve already done a project with him [he appears on a compilation] produced by [German band] House of Riddim, which was released last December … If you’re good here, people like you. It’s happening star, trust me.”

If Crosby and Dan settle for the equally reggae-mad Sweden, they might join Zoro, whose album Gugs News (delivered in Xhosa and English) drops in October, on a 17-date tour of the country with label mates Promo and Timbuktu. “I never thought I’d release my album and my crew would not be there,” laments Zoro. “I always had a dream that we’d conquer the world together, but I guess you never know what the future holds.”

Zoro’s album, which he unsuccessfully tried to promote in South Africa earlier this year, is an irrepressible mix of bashful kwaito, earthy roots reggae, dancehall and even some flourishes of Nordic folk, all wrapped up in his raspy, king-of-the-jungle growl.

After being snubbed by local labels because “people are still afraid of talking about the past”, he has put any hopes of a South African career behind him. As he wails with an air or resignation and despair in the video of his first single, Far Away From Home: “10 000 miles away from home, still we a bow and trust unto the most high.”