Friday is a Feeling

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When I was a teenager, back in 1852, I used to sit and watch award shows like my life depended on it. The memory of Britney Spears performing I’m A Slave For U at the MTV VMA Awards in 2001, with a yellow Burmese python draped around her shoulders, is etched in my mind’s eye. 

More recently, I remember Beyoncé giving an incredible performance at the Billboard Awards while pregnant  — although nobody but her family knew at the time. Her daughter Blue Ivy is 10 years old now and a Grammy winner already. 

In the decade since, award shows have sadly become a farce of tantrums, interruptions and lacklustre performances. Nothing like the two-hour entertainment extravaganzas we all used to stay up for. 

You see, music has punctuated every memorable moment in my life. Whether it was listening to my father wash the car while listening to Nat King Cole, my mom rocking out to Joan Armatrading and Letta Mbulu, my grandfather shuffling awkwardly to Lionel Richie’s Dancing on the Ceiling or my grandmother enjoying the music of Mahlathini and The Mahotella Queen, music made life in Soweto sweeter. 

Musician Letta Mbulu performs on stage during the Standard Bank Joy of Jazz 2007 held in Newtown on August 24, 2007 in Johannesburg, South Africa. (Lefty Shivambu/Gallo Images)

I went from cleaning my mother’s stoep eZola while listening to Robin S to being lucky enough to have seen Boom Shaka, TKZee and Mdu on the same stage, on one night. 

And so, in putting together this issue, I wanted to remember the good things about music but also face the tough things about music. 

After my first love breakup, I found solace in the 2000 version of Joni Mitchell’s Both Sides Now. But, as I hang my head in shame, one of the toughest moments for me was having to let go of one of my favourite party songs, Ignition by R Kelly. I had to stop playing his music because 

I remember in 1993 as a 13-year-old, watching Aaliyah (who was just as young as I was but was being marketed as a young adult), visit South Africa, being at her appearance at LA Jeans Clothing in Small Street in downtown Johannesburg (those who know, know), and being mesmerised by her beauty and lyrics. 

The words from Age Ain’t Nuthing But a Number, co-written by her then secret husband R Kelly, before the marriage was annulled because she was under age, are soiled now. 

Photo of AALIYAH (Sal Idriss/Redferns)

Music infiltrated every part of my life, and musicians, in particular, have been my demigods because they are the people I look to when I need to feel strong (cue Jay-Z’s The Black Album) or need Mary J Blige to weep with me for all the tired women in me. 

Music can both heal us and contaminate us. It can make us question our lives or turn us into activists. There’s no way you can listen to Bra Hugh Masekela’s Stimela without recognising it as his way of calling out the inequality brought on by the apartheid system. 

But music can also be aggressive and menacing, before Kendrick Lamar, Snoop Dogg and his West Coast crew made us see the plight of the ghetto boy by gangsta rapping their way into our lives. That truth would inspire Lamar, with the same producer in Dr Dre, to become the first rap artist to win a Pulitzer Prize. 

Kendrick Lamar performs as he headlines the Pyramid Stage during day five of Glastonbury Festival at Worthy Farm, Pilton on June 26, 2022 in Glastonbury, England. (Samir Hussein/WireImage)

With this issue, from Thandi Ntuli’s latest album to the biggest list of amapiano’s hottest tracks, what we aim to do is remind you to dance, especially after these past three years of masks, deaths and war. We also remind you that it is crucial to know when to separate the art from the artist but also recognise, in the case of R Kelly, when it is impossible to do so. 

We’ve assembled a great group of writers who interrogate everything from the role of women in South African jazz to why award shows have lost their shine. 

And so, whether you want to read about how R Kelly has added to rape culture, or why you shouldn’t dismiss amapiano as a passing fad, one thing you can be sure of is that music will never stop being the soundtrack of our lives. 

When I was a teenager, back in 1852, I used to sit and watch award shows like my life depended on it. The memory of Britney Spears performing I’m A Slave For U with a yellow Burmese Python draped around her shoulders at the MTV VMA Awards in 2001 is etched into my mind’s eye. Even more recently, I remember Beyoncé giving an incredible performance at the Billboard Awards while pregnant with her daughter Blue Ivy – although nobody but her family knew at the time. Blue Ivy is 10 years old now and a Grammy winner already. And in the 10 years since, award shows have sadly become a farce of tantrums, interruptions and lacklustre performances. They are nothing like the two-hour entertainment extravaganzas we all used to stay up for. 

In this handout photo provided by A.M.P.A.S., Beyoncé performs during the ABC telecast of the 94th Oscars® on Sunday, March 27, 2022 in Los Angeles, California. (Mason Poole/A.M.P.A.S. via Getty Images)

For me, music has punctuated every memorable moment in my life. Whether it was listening to my father wash the car while listening to Nat King Cole, or my mom rocking out to Joan Armatrading and Letta Mbulu, or my grandfather shuffling awkwardly to Lionel Richie’s Dancing on the Ceiling, or my grandmother enjoying the music of Mahlathini and The Amahotella Queen, music made life in Soweto sweeter. I went from cleaning my mother’s stoep eZola while listening to Robin S to being lucky enough to have seen Boom Shaka, TKZee and Mdu on the same stage. And so, in putting together this issue I wanted to remember the good things about music but also face the tough things about music. 

After my first love breakup I found solace in the 2000 version of Johnny Mitchell’s From Both Sides Now. But, as I hang my head in shame, one of the toughest moments for me was having to let go of one of my favourite party songs, Ignition by R Kelly. I had to stop playing his music because I remember in 1993 being a 13 year old and being mesmerised by the beauty and lyrics of Aaliyah (who was just as young as me but was being marketed as a young adult) at her appearance at LA Jeans Clothing in Small Street in downtown Johannesburg (those who know, know). The words from Age Ain’t Nuthing But A Number, co-written by her then secret husband, R Kelly, before the marriage was annulled because she was a teenager, are soiled now. 

Hugh Masekela performs on stage at the New Orleans Jazz & Heritage Festival on April 26, 2009 in New Orleans. (Photo by Ebet Roberts/Redferns)

Music infiltrated every part of my life and musicians in particular have been my demigods because they are the people I look to when I need to feel strong (cue Jay-Z’s The Black Album) or need Mary J Blige to weep with me for all the tired women in me. Music can both heal us and contaminate us. It can make us question our lives or turn us into activists. There’s no way you can listen to Bra Hugh Masikela’s Stimela without recognising it as his way of calling out the inequality brought on by the Apartheid system. 

But music can also be aggressive and menacing. Kendrick Lamar, Snoop Dogg and his West Coast crew made us see the plight of the ghetto boy by gangsta rapping their way into our lives. That truth would inspire Lamar, with producer Dr Dre, to become the first rap artist to win a Pulitzer Prize. 

Mary J. Blige accepts the BET HER award presented by Target for ‘Good Morning Gorgeous’ onstage during the 2022 BET Awards at Microsoft Theater on June 26, 2022 in Los Angeles, California. (Paras Griffin/Getty Images for BET)

This issue, from Thandi Ntuli’s latest album to the biggest list of amapiano’s hottest tracks, aims to not only remind you to dance, especially after these past three years of masks, deaths and war, but to also remind you that it is crucial to know when to separate the art from the artist, but also recognise, in the case of R Kelly, when it is impossible to separate the art from the artist. We’ve assembled an incredible group of writers who interrogate everything from the role of women in South African jazz to why award shows have lost their shine. And so, whether you want to read about how R Kelly has invariably added to rape culture, or why you shouldn’t dismiss amapiano as a passing fad, one thing you can be sure of is that music will never stop being the soundtrack of our lives.