As the sky darkened to a dirty grey over the Orlando Stadium, the crowd fell into a shuffling dance in unison as the beer took hold. This was the Soccer World Cup kick-off concert, and ahead of the tournament proper there was nowhere else to be on the chilly Thursday night.
One thing is for sure, the Mexicans are here to party. There were scores of them in their huge hats, posing — and flirting — with South Africans.
Kwani Experience, 340ml and a couple of DJs warmed up the crowd, but it was only when Hugh Masekela began blowing his horn on Grazing in the Grass, which segued into Lira doing a quickstep Pata Pata, that the crowds began to sway.
Throughout the evening, various celebrities were wheeled out to mouth platitudes, including Sepp Blatter, Jacob Zuma and Lucas Radebe.
Blatter, smiling beatifically, said Fifa was proud to be in South Africa and delighted to be in Soweto.
“Football is not only a game, football is about connecting people,” he said, adding that this World Cup would leave a legacy in Africa through the organisation’s 1Goal education campaign. A little later Archbishop Desmond Tutu told the crowd that “we are all Africans”, and thanked the world for its patience in allowing South Africa to change from an ugly caterpillar into a beautiful butterfly.
The Black-Eyed Peas then turned the stadium into a dancehall with I Got a Feeling and were followed by Amadou — playing a gold guitar — and Mariam, with their hit Africa. Tinariwen followed a short while later with two hypnotic tracks in their trademark desert-rock style.
Angelique Kidjo, and the vocal pyrotechnics of Vusi Mahlasela — who performed his incredible When They Come Back — followed in short order.
For my money, the best act of the night were the BLK JKS, who, after accompanying Alicia Keys, had from where I was standing every member of the audience on their feet and raving like people possessed with uMzabalazo. They’d been billed to play another number, but their set was cut short, for some reason.
K’Naan then played the Wavin’ Flag anthem, and though it sounds like a cliché, the stadium was a sea of, well, waving flags. It looked amazing, like an advert for Proudly South Africa, or a bank.
On the way home, on a deserted, windswept Commissioner Street in Johannesburg, a lone man stood outside a building, blowing his horn into the night.