Prince Kaybee needs no introduction
Prince Kaybee (real name Kabelo Motsamai) has spent his entire career making sure his name goes down in music history. His first-ever interview with GQ follows his fourth studio album, The 4th Republic, becoming the first African DJ to play on Tiny Desk Concerts and appearing on the soundtrack to Coming 2 America. Here, the award-winning megastar explains why his wins matter to him, and he speaks out against gender-based violence, pushing for diversity in music, his relationship with his girlfriend, radio personality Zola Mhlongo, and what he really thinks about making it onto Barack Obama’s list of favourite songs in 2020
Prince Kaybee And i can come Across As somewhat cocky if you don’t know us, so when I agreed with his PR team to do my first virtual interview with him, I figured our chat would involve two large egos. Boy, was I wrong because it became one of my favourites and the longest Instagram Live interview
I’ve ever conducted – our time ran out, and we had to start a new video. We connected over a dope, meaningful conversation.
When GQ and Samsung first discussed the idea of a collaboration that would see us shoot a cover using a smartphone, the Samsung Galaxy S21 Ultra, we’d never done that before. We needed a prominent cover star to define this history-making moment, and Prince Kaybee was the right fit. He’s bagged numerous awards and secured number one hits with all his albums. With ardour, we present to you, Prince Kaybee, in an interview by me, with photographs shot by the inimitable Austin Malema through the lens of the Samsung Galaxy S21 Ultra. »
‘I was the kid in the corner who had dreadlocks and wasn’t good-looking. So, the odds were against me’
GQ: You’ve never been that guy who’s out there with relationships. Why now?
Prince Kaybee: I think I’ve found the one. I also realised that, as you grow older, even if your relationships don’t work out, if you have a feeling that you should go out there and tell people about what you’re going through, then why not? If I wake up tomorrow and there’s no one in my life, and I get someone else, I’m going to post them. There’s no holding back anymore ’cause I’m tired of that life.
GQ: How do you handle the stuff that comes with being a young, successful, attractive man, all those DMS?
PK: Interestingly, I didn’t grow up like this.
I was the kid in the corner who had dreadlocks and wasn’t good-looking. I lived with my grandparents, who wanted me in the house at, like, 4pm, which meant I couldn’t date anyone.
So, the odds were against me.
I remember when I dropped my single ‘Charlotte’ when everything was mad crazy. I couldn’t deal. Then there was the time I was living in Bloem, and a lot of girls were begging me, ‘Fly us up, we want to come through, you’re so hot.’ And I didn’t know what was going on. Back then, I was centred and grounded with God, which helped. I was deep and spiritual, and my girlfriend at the time would go to church with me. I’m not as close to Him right now, and I’m not proud of what I’m going through.
Most of the attention didn’t faze me. What happened with my life is that I grew into it.
I grew into the whole thing. I had flings. There was a time when I’d fly to Cape Town for a casual relationship. I guess you do that when you’re trying to find the one. That’s where I am right now: I’ve found my girl.
GQ: From What I gather, you’re the first South African artist to be on Tiny Desk Concerts.
PK: I’m the first of several as Black Coffee and Nasty C also appeared on it at the same time as me. The whole Tiny Desk situation was made possible by Def Jam Recordings, who compiled the Coming 2 America album. They must’ve thought, why not put these guys on Tiny Desk?
GQ: And how was that experience for you? Had you ever watched Tiny Desk Concerts?
PK: Yeah, I think all musicians watch it, ’cause people tend to watch what they like. Tiny Desk introduces new and varied talent all the time, but I’m more into the unknown female vocalists. I’d watched it, but I’d never seen a DJ on the show. It’s not something I’d envisaged, but we made it work. I’m not the first South African artist to be on
Tiny Desk, but I can proudly say I’m the first African DJ.
GQ: During the lockdown you collaborated with different artists on
The 4th Republic. Why?
PK: It’s so-called because it’s my fourth studio album and ‘Republic’ refers to my ‘republicans’, the fans who’ve been with me from day one, in the middle and at the end. I looked at that spectrum and was sort of, like, let’s fuse everyone to form a republic and engage through music. I compiled the album to their liking. I didn’t ask them what they wanted directly, but I was inspired by what my fans were doing.
Twitter can be both negative and positive. There’s love, people helping each other. I remember a couple got engaged at a KFC, and then people used the platform to raise funds for their wedding. I came up with my 24-track album when I was active on Twitter posting my thoughts and standpoint, and people got to know ‘Controversial Kaybee’.
GQ: Tell us about the artists you’ve worked with.
PK: Yes, I found artists on social media and via my initiative Project Hope (more about that on page 79). I discovered a lot on social media. It’s also amazing how it allows artists to engage and be creative. I don’t care how big you are; I prefer not to feature artists who are big for the sake of it. I’ve also noticed that when you’re really hot in the industry, you don’t take advice because you [think you’ve] got things on lock, and that’s understandable. If you say go this way or do this, they don’t really take that as a positive gesture; they believe you’re trying to direct them, rob them of their fame or be part of it.
I believe it’s far easier to work with developing artists. You’re not just developing them to put them in the spotlight. You’ve also got a better way of working, the energy is right, and they’re still humble and willing to listen. It’s simpler and more productive to work with them, so that’s what I’ve been doing for the past six years of my mainstream existence, not just for them but also to make myself feel better.
I’ve worked with many big names, which has been a great experience. Sometimes, there’s a clash of egos, and you have to step back to make them feel like the man in the room. But that can take a lot away from the creative process – you don’t get to fly your wings the way you’re supposed to. A few of them are genuinely there to work, but with others, it is what it is because a lot is going on with established artists. GQ: Describe your creative process. Do you dream about music?
PK: OK, firstly, it’s different now than when I started. I was always in the studio, working very hard ’cause I thought that was gonna make me a millionaire, or whatever. Then, I started reading books and understanding that you shouldn’t only look busy, but you must have decent ideas you can execute. People may look busy, but when you check, they’re not actually doing anything.what I mean by that is that you need to manage your time as an artist and rest. That way, you’re wellrested for what little time you have in the studio, the energy is right, you’ve eaten well, and your mind’s in the right place, emotionally, spiritually and physically. You do the work, then get out.
The downside [of being an artist] is that overnights at the studio happen outside the standard nine-to-five, which I prefer not to do. I don’t want to be in the studio [that late] for the sake of looking like I’m working because [by that time] I’m tired. I’m not about that life. Calling it a day, knowing when to rest when I’m tired, is part of the creative process – I don’t force it. »
‘I’m trying to find that thing about me distinct enough to stick with people so they won’t even need to be introduced to me’
GQ: Tell us about the red glove.
PK: It’s a look with no specific or deep meaning attached to it. People ask questions, and I’m, like, ‘Nah, I just like red gloves; I like looking good.’
GQ: So, you saw it somewhere and
thought, I need to buy that red glove? PK: No, I didn’t see it anywhere, but I’m into drag racing, so it’s one of the gloves I wear for that.
I was using my phone, and I took off the one on the right, and I was, like, mmm, this looks nice, wearing one on the left but not the right. So, I was, like, OK, let me try this out.
GQ: You seem to have updated your look over the last year or so. Is that intentional?
PK: Yeah, but I’m really stubborn when it comes to my look – my girlfriend knows all about that. I wouldn’t say I’m confused, but I’m still trying to find myself because I believe in keeping traditions. For example, when I go to a restaurant, I want to find one and be there for, like, a year. I prefer not to hip-hop around restaurants, and have everyone in Sandton know me, so I want to find, like, one restaurant and be there for, like, an entire year.
The same goes for my look. I want to find something that I’m going to stick with. To find something like the slogan of a big brand, you need, like, a DG. The D and G was well-articulated to last longer. You want something that’s going to last, not something that’ll bore you tomorrow. So, I’m going through a phase where I’m trying to find myself, the thing about me distinct enough to stick with people so they won’t even need to be introduced to me. They’ll be, like, ‘Yeah, that’s him.’ So, I think I’m gonna keep the gloves.
GQ: You’re passionate about Project Hope. How did it come about?
PK: It’s an initiative way beyond me. I decided to de-centre myself ’cause I believe that to leave a legacy, you must leave behind something people can grasp, not just money. Money paves the way and memories fade, so you must start a legacy someone can take over when you’re no longer around.
In the first season, I developed ten girls and helped them produce an album. They earn money and exposure from it, but I feel like it was a trial and error thing. But the thing about artists is that you can’t put them somewhere and leave. They’re literally going to drop back down if you don’t maintain them.
In the second season, I’ll try to take the best from the last season and see how far the artists can go, using what they’ve learned from last time to move forward. The Project mainly features women at the moment ’cause if you were to ask which female vocalists or DJS are dominating right now, you’d have to think about it. If you can’t name any of them, then that means we need to develop some. With time, the real ones will start popping up, the names that’ll be there for a long time. Then, we’ll have a nice, diverse industry. Right now, it’s not diverse – people are raping women for features, which is unbelievable.
GQ: You’re one of the few popular men to speak openly about gender-based violence. Have you always been like that? Guys tend to either shy away from it or pretend it’s not happening. Why do you think that is?
PK: My mother is very strong. If you think my character’s insane, Bro, my mom has ten times more. My mom’s always been like that, even with my dad. If he drops a plate, it’s a mess, a hoo-ha. But my fear of my mother is positive. I’ve always known all she wants is order. One thing about women is that all they want is order.
Order isn’t cheating or raping. Yes, you can be untidy in the house as long as you carefully consider the main things in your life. There’s nothing orderly about raping, abusing or talking back to a woman and calling her a bitch. My main priority is order, which my mom taught me from a young age to shape who I am today.
GQ: Is that why you’re outspoken? I remember when we were in talks with your team about this cover and interview, I said, ‘He must stop with his Twitter fights!’
PK: It was funny when my team told me you’d said that. I’d spend two to three hours on Twitter before I realised the less time I spend on the platform, the better. I’m easily triggered, and I think Twitter used to do that to me when I spent too much time on it.
I’m working on [my conduct on Twitter] for my business relationships. Like, if someone says something stupid or out of line in a meeting, I want to retaliate immediately, but I’ve learned to bite my tongue ’cause you never know what other people are going through. You don’t know what they’re thinking, so you must first investigate a problem to find a solution. That sort of business etiquette outside music is something I think I should try to grasp and implement back into my music as an artist. But that’ll take time.
The funny thing is that’s not the person I am; I didn’t grow up like that. A byproduct of your mother being strict is that someone strict, even a boss, doesn’t usually make a great leader ’cause they tend not to be open to new ideas or accept when they’re wrong. That’s the sort of person
I grew up with, so it’s part of my DNA, which I can’t change overnight.
GQ: One thing I’ve learned is that a leader must think before he or she reacts. Some arguments aren’t worth the fight.
PK: I always say that if you have an itch, scratch it. But sometimes, you must let it subside on its own. Some don’t require your attention.
GQ: You seem to be in a great relationship. What are five pearls of wisdom you’d share with the GQ guy to bag a healthy, happy relationship or to make an existing one more dope?
Tell us what you’ve learned from your experience.
PK: I always say that when it comes to relationships, no two people are the same. Generally speaking, I think that if you’re a guy who wants to be in a stable, smooth relationship, you must take your girlfriend out ’cause women want to dine and look nice.
Secondly, you must be a good photographer. (Luckily, I’m better at snapping pics than my girlfriend.)
Thirdly, listen to your partner when she talks. Women are like incubators; they like to give you information, and then you must return it to them as if you got it out of the oven, which
I find intriguing. Find a way to have a long discussion about your day, listening, responding and engaging.
Fourth, find out what your woman is into before you initiate things. She also wants to know what you’re into, so it’s a give-and-take situation. Compromise is very important.
Lastly, have fun – it’s the least you can do. Many people think relationships are for adults, so they feel the need to be Mr Serious. Nah, Bro. Have fun with your person and enjoy each other.
GQ: Last year, yours was one of Time magazine’s top 20 songs of the year, and now you feature on the Coming 2 America soundtrack? And how did you find out your were on Barack Obama’s playlist?
PK: When he posted, I wasn’t in SA. I was in Zambia, I’d just got off stage and my Twitter was very busy. I was trending at number one. I was so nervous, but when I checked, it was good news for once. I texted my girlfriend, who’d been asleep, but I woke her.
When everything had died down, I still didn’t know what it meant ’cause I’m also calculative. I revisited the streams weeks after Obama’s playlist to find it hadn’t done much for my »
record sales. Do you know how people received it? I don’t. I’m still on the fence right now. It’s dope to know the world’s watching. At one stage, he was one of the most prominent people on Earth; so, I thought [his aknowledgement] would’ve given us more than an announcement on Twitter.
I don’t really know what it did [for me]. I believe in tangible progress, and I want to see what something does. If I go to a GQ shoot, I know it’ll open doors for other brand collaborations. Maybe it’ll activate a modelling career, if that’s what I want. But the Obama playlist thing? It’s just a good thing to know that people are watching South African music.
GQ: When we talked about your dreams during the lockdown, you said there was some business you couldn’t engage in due to restrictions at the time. What are your hopes for yourself as an artist and a man?
PK: Men want to have a stable family.
I was having a conversation with AKA, when interestingly, he asked me, ‘You really wanna be Beyoncé-famous?’ I thought about that for a while and concluded I don’t. Yes, I want success in other spheres of my life, but I don’t wanna go out and get so jampacked I can’t even walk. It’s a mess ’cause then you must stay indoors. As an artist, I’m fine where I am. If there’s another Obama playlist, accolade, award or best song, it can come, but it’s not something I’m gunning for – I want to invest in other kids and live a happy life. I don’t wanna be Beyoncé-famous. Honestly, I don’t.
GQ: Are you proud of yourself, looking at your career? How do you feel about its trajectory?
PK: I always separate being proud and being fulfilled. I’ve long been proud of myself. I’m over the stage when I released my first album and won my first award. I don’t set another goal and say, ‘Only when I get through that will I be proud of myself.’ But when it comes to fulfilment, as far as my goals are concerned, there’s quite a lot to do, so I don’t think I’m fulfilled yet as an artist. Am I proud of myself? Absolutely.
GQ: Your top-five favourite songs to listen to that aren’t your own.
PK: ‘Boss’ by Beyoncé
‘Let Me Blow Ya Mind’ by Eve
‘Morena Ke Rata Ho Hophelela’ by Isaac and the Mighty Messengers
‘Chasing Summer’ by Sun-el
‘Loading’ by Olamide
GQ: With whom would you like to collaborate? Have you collaborated with Nigerian or West African artists?
PK: I prefer not to work with people because they’re popular. The energy needs to be right. Unfortunately, there isn’t an established artist that I want to work with. Many Kenyan and Tanzanian artists are underground. I’d love to work with them and new artists from South Africa and the African continent. I find new artists are more hungry and they have less of an ego [than more established ones]. There’s no one out there who I want to work with – unless you can call Rihanna!
GQ: How do you manage your ego?
PK: When I’m in my element, I’m stressed, and I don’t want people to mess with me, so I stay away from others. If I’m having that kind of day, I stay indoors. I won’t even go to the shops. Have your own thing there in your corner. If your girlfriend’s there, it’s easier because you’re in love, but I prefer not to be around other people.
‘I want to invest in other kids and live a happy life. I don’t wanna be Beyoncé-famous. Honestly, I don’t’
GQ: How do you know if one of your songs is going to be a hit?
PK: I don’t. Take ‘Gugulethu’, for instance. It wasn’t even supposed to be on the album, I just played it for someone I was working with at the time. No one else in the world would’ve heard it had we not put it on the album. You can never really know. You make songs, and people tell you [whether they like it]. Sometimes, we think as artists we have it under control, like, Nah, this will be the next hit. But then it’s a flop that doesn’t work at all. Then, there are songs you don’t feel at all, but they’re big. So, you can never call it.
GQ: At what point is an artist satisfied with his or her work?
PK: First of all, it’s the sales, and secondly, it’s performing a song in front of a crowd that genuinely receives it and gives you love. I can literally see what my work is doing.
GQ: Are there any of your songs you don’t like?
PK: ‘Charlotte’. It’s just a song I don’t feel.
GQ: I’ve always wanted to know, who’s Charlotte?
PK: ‘Charlotte’ represents insecurity, not a real person. Imagine your phone rings when you’re with someone you shouldn’t be, and you don’t want to answer it because it could be Charlotte calling. That person could be anyone with whom you don’t want to speak. Lady Zamar wrote that song.