An ear for grey areas
Singer-songwriter Nakhane Touré is baffled by boundaries — and by his sudden success. He spoke to Nikita Ramkissoon
PEOPLE do double-takes as they walk past Nakhane Touré. I hear someone whispering: “Is that the dude with that gay music video?”
As we sit down over a cup of coffee in Rosebank, he says it’s good to see a friend after all the madness. Touré is a little alarmed by his sudden success. Having won a Sama for Best Alternative Album for his debut Brave Confusion, he’s a bit weirded out. “I stayed in my seat for two seconds. I didn’t expect to win.”
Awards are strange, he says. “Two rows in front of me sat Mafikizolo and all these megastars, and I thought, ‘I don’t really belong here’. The alternative category is an outsider’s category.”
Born Nakhane Mahlakahlaka in the Eastern Cape, he has taken on the Touré surname as an homage to the Malian blues maestro Ali Farka Touré. The 26-year-old from Alice is the South African indie music scene’s new darling, but he takes it with a pinch of salt. After the ceremony, he wanted to go to his room and sleep, he says.
“I don’t want to get used to that feeling. I’ve read biographies of people who got too involved in the industry and lost their trajectory.
“The circus doesn’t matter, and it is a gross circus — I don’t worry about who I’m friends with. I just want to work.”
Touré is small, but he has big ideas. He devours art and says every great artist knows his history. Although his roots are in soul, he’s broken into the white world of indie rock.
“People forget rock music was black music too. Now, black people aren’t interested because it’s sold as white music.
“Mine has deep soul bearings. It’s a Prince album. Sure it’s got distorted guitar, but in a sense it’s progressing soul. It’s not about white or black audiences or music. It’s just music.”
And what excellent music it is — dark and catchy with soaring vocals. It’s tenderness laced with acid. It’s Touré at war with himself.
“Black people love singers who can belt it out, regardless of race. You see burly Zulu men who like Westlife. People are open to different kinds of music, but it’s not given to them.
“I’ve never been careful. It’s complex. Actually, no. It’s stupid. You can’t intellectualise racism.
“If I didn’t list The Smiths and Radiohead as influences, would that demographic be interested? The answer is not simple, so I don’t spend time on who likes my music.”
For Touré, his blackness is not central to his work. “When writing the album, I didn’t think about who would like it. It may sound selfish, but I was thinking about me and making the music I wanted to.”
His being gay is also inconsequential, he says. “It’s a gay album, but I didn’t think anything of it. I didn’t intend it to be a gay
You see burly Zulu men who like Westlife
album. There was no intention to be a campaign.”
Touré says he is openly gay because he was always given space to talk about feelings.
“In Grade 8, we were given a writing task. I wrote a diary of a priest, and saw the beginnings of how I write … It went into the priest using prostitutes. It was light and dark. Transgressive conversations became an extension of openness to my music.”
Many expected outrage at the homoeroticism of his videos, but Touré says there hasn’t been a backlash.
“I’m still waiting. Sure, there are comments saying ‘this gay shit is disturbing’. I thought it was funny. I prepared myself for worse. Maybe it’s still to come.
“The internet allows anonymity … people can say what they want without repercussions. I’m ready. They’re allowed not to like it.”
He says he’s caught between wanting to take up this flag and just wanting to make music. “I’m not the poster child for gayness, but if no one talks about it, nothing happens.”
Touré is also deeply religious, and his faith comes through strongly on the album.
“It’s tricky … Things aren’t clear-cut and it scares the shit out of me. I can’t believe that non-westerners were all going to hell until some white dude came and saved us. Like, really?
“If that’s the case, God is racist, and I can’t believe that. There’s a lot of black and white when it comes to faith, but life lies mainly in the grey.”
He tells of a day in Grade 5 when his teacher asked who was winning between God and the Devil, and a kid said “the Devil”.
“There’s more ugliness in the world than beauty — you have to search for beauty, and art shows beauty still exists between the ugliness. But, then again, art is a mirror of society and you have to make what’s out there and be honest, else you’re lying.”
But Touré also tries to undercut his earnestness. “I’m selfdeprecating. Can’t take anything seriously. But I do in a way. It’s about finding middle ground. The moment you think all your thoughts are precious, you might as well give up.
“Everyone has a moment when they think they’re a genius but you can’t let those moments take over.”
Brave Confusion possesses a gravity-defying energy, and is also as soft as a floating feather.
He says every album will be his story, but he never wants it to be the same. He’s writing a new one right now, in fact.
“Each must be a snapshot of who I am at that point in time. I never want to stagnate. That’s the beauty of creation: you make, you evolve.”
He leans forward and, with a smile, tells me the name of his next album. I’m not telling. LS