Nico Carstens: Boeremusiek legend and accordion maestro
1926-2016
NICO Carstens, who has died in Cape Town at the age of 90, was a legendary accordion player and composer of boeremusiek.
What he played sounded like boeremusiek to the uneducated, although the purists argued that it was more nuanced.
He incorporated Spanish, South American and African rhythms and sounds, and described what he played as jazz.
Whatever you called it, it was extraordinarily popular and he had a massive following. His fans were as besotted as any rock’n’roll groupies.
He and his band visited just about every little town and village in the country while travelling in two buses, one with their instruments and equipment, the other carrying them. Their progress was eagerly monitored. Phone calls were made from one town to the next, warning that they were on the way.
Cars and bakkies would line up for miles, awaiting their appearance over the horizon or around the bend with mounting excitement. They’d have to stop and chat before they could continue, with an escort, to wherever they were going to stay, which was always eagerly contested.
Their shows were meticulously choreographed by Carstens, who was always the ultimate professional. His guest artists were classy. One of his six wives was a dancer in Paris who came to South
He insisted his band wear dress suits with a bow tie, no matter how small the dorp or hot the weather
Africa and was hired by him to do cabaret for his shows. They got married shortly afterwards while touring in Windhoek.
They toured Namibia (South West Africa as it was called then), Mozambique, Northern and Southern Rhodesia (Zambia and Zimbabwe) and Botswana. They travelled about 1.3 million kilometres, all of it by road. For years Carstens practically lived on the road, which was partly why his marriages never lasted. Another reason was that he was a compulsive womaniser.
Carstens insisted that his band members wear dress suits with a bow tie, frilly shirt, cummerbund and cufflinks, no matter how small or humble the dorp or hot the weather, and midsummer in Upington could be pretty hot.
In spite of his perpetual smile on stage he was a hard taskmaster. He tolerated no loose behaviour at all, no horsing around, drinking or swearing. They were professionals with a job to do, he told them, and never let them forget it.
So great was the privilege of being invited to play in the Nico Carstens Band that they were generally more than happy to abide by his rules.
For six consecutive years, from 1965 to 1970, they won the Springbok Radio Sarie prize for best boeremusiek band.
Carstens was born in Bellville on February 10 1926 and matriculated at Bellville High. He used to visit a friend and play on his accordion. One day his friend told him he might as well stop trying because he’d never be able to play. When his father heard this, he scraped together enough money for his first accordion, a 48 bass. Six months later Carstens won a competition against adults who’d been playing for years.
After school he worked in an abattoir in Port Elizabeth and played gigs at night and weekends. He attended art college in Cape Town for a year, but dropped out. The maestro of boeremusiek at the time was Hendrik Susan. After hearing Carstens, he asked the 19-year-old to stand in for his accordionist, Theo Kapp, who was going on leave. Carstens was with the band for five years, leaving at 24 to start his own band.
He was rated one of the 10 best accordion players in the world and was regarded as the father of the accordion in South Africa. But he was also a prolific composer.
Initially he would write the music and send it to musical partner Anton de Waal for the lyrics. Eventually they formed a company called Carstens De Waal.
He sold three million albums and in 1959 was the first South African musician to sell more than a million records. His most famous hit was Zambezi, the first international hit to come out of South Africa. It was performed by — among others — The Shadows, Dixie Aces, Bert Kaempfert, Sam Sklair, James Last, Chet Atkins and Eddie Calvert. When Calvert met him, he said: “Thanks for making me a millionaire.”
Carstens, who performed in Germany, France, the Netherlands, the US and, after the Berlin Wall came down, Eastern Europe, made a fortune for himself. But he blew it all on women and clothes. When he went shopping, one jacket was never enough; he’d buy the whole row. He also spent it on overseas travel and, above all, cars; the bigger and more powerful the better. He owned Pontiacs, Buicks, Jaguars and, his favourite, Cadillacs, which he drove with his foot down.
He needed little excuse to buy a new car. He was touring in his Cadillac one day when he had a flat tyre. He asked his passenger if he knew anything about cars. When the answer was negative, he left it and bought a new one. Sometimes an overflowing ashtray was enough to send him to the showroom.
It also didn’t help that he sold the rights to his music.
Carstens, who when off stage was something of an introvert who protected his private space jealously and wasn’t a great socialiser, spent the last few years of his life in a small room in an old-age home in Cape Town. He was penniless. But still composing.
He is survived by four children. His son George died in 2001. Chris Barron