Simphiwe’s songs of love, unity and spirituality
With the release of Simphiwe Dana’s ‘Bamako’, came Buhle Mbonambi’s new lease of life under lockdown
IT WAS the third week of the lockdown. Nothing was good. I was cranky AF, bothered by having to spend all my time indoors.
I had lost my will to cook. I had even written an article about how tired I was of cooking and was desperate for takeaway meals. I was also struggling with my writing. I was watching and enjoying only one TV show, Schitts Creek, because it was comforting.
And then I remembered that a publicist had sent me a link to an album in preparation for my interview with the artist.
I dragged myself to the kitchen, trying to muster the energy to cook while listening to the album.
I hit play.
The opening song, an intro really, Bamako, slowly faded into Bye Bye
Naughty Baby. As the distinctive voice of Simphiwe Dana wafted through my laptop speaker, I was taken back to the first time I heard her sing. It was 2004, on a road trip to the KZN South Coast from northern KZN. We listened to Zandisile, her debut album non-stop on the four-hour trip.
I have appreciated Dana’s music since I was a teenager. As I chopped the vegetables and blitzed the onions for the chicken curry I was making, Gwegweleza started playing. I laughed because I thought: “wow, this is shady”.
I wondered if Gwegweleza was also about a person. It’s apparent she is singing about someone. I wanted to know more. Is the album about heartbreak?
Turns out, it is. Over email, Dana confirmed my suspicions.
“Generally the album is largely about heartbreak.” But she wasn’t willing to tell me who the songs were inspired by.
More than heartbreak, Dana’s albums leave you with an awakening of the country’s socio-political and economic situation. Take Mkhonto, for instance. She sings: “Ubukhali lo mkhonto? (Is this spear sharp?) Ubuthuntu lo mkhonto? (Is this spear blunt?) Bamloya waphendukel’ isizwe (They bewitched him, he turned on the nation). Wasifulathela was’shova ngengolova (Turned his back on us, shoved us with guns).”
She’s asking what went wrong with the ruling party. She wants to know what the spear of the nation is doing – is it still sharp enough to lead? It took me back to her previous albums, which as enjoyable as they are, but are also a social commentary.
Bamako came at a time when we needed music that we would enjoy, but also make us think about where we are as a people, especially during this pandemic. Dana thinks our world will not be the same after this.
“Our whole world would have changed after the pandemic. There’s about to be a shift in what things we deem important.”
I’ve always wanted to know her process. What comes first?
The melodies or the lyrics? After all, making music is a spiritual experience. Dana agrees.
“It is very much spiritual. Music is truly a gift from God sent to help us heal. There really is no formula. Some songs come in a dream. Some come as melodies. Some are born of joyful or hurtful experiences. But they all are inspired by the human condition. Most take months. But some are so easy-peasy. Writing music is very tough and spiritually draining, I’ll tell you that.”
I was delighted when I heard Salif Keita’s voice on Masibambeni, which samples his iconic song, Africa. It’s about nation-building. How apt at a time like this for us to have this song. Dana recording her album in Mali, was also a sign of her love for the continent, which, if you have followed her career, has always been prevalent in her sound.
“It was a dream come true,” she said. “The musicality of Mali is unsurpassed.”
Keita co-produced Bamako and it was, as Simphiwe said, “on top of my bucket list”.
While she didn’t get an opportunity to sightsee, there was a lot about Mali she enjoyed.
“The heat definitely stood out. The adherence to religion. The food was amazing. Mothers drove to work on scooters, with their kids on their backs. In fact most people use scooters to drive around. I wasn’t able to fully explore Bamako as I was cooped up in studio.”
I finished cooking after the second spin of the album. I repeated most of the songs, allowing them to seep in and find a home in me. Which they did.
And would you believe that since then, I have been enjoying my time in the kitchen? And that the chicken curry was delicious?
Would it be far-fetched to say that Bamako made me want to spend more time cooking and baking up a storm? Probably. But I like to believe it had a lot to do with getting over my slump.