Zoo City Part 26

"What are you doing, Giovanni?"

"Uh-oh," he says. "Full Name Rebuke. That's serious stuff. You won't let me walk you up? You won't let me kiss you?"

"We broke up. In bad circ.u.mstances."

"Four years ago. Things change. People change. You have."

"And you haven't. In the slightest."

"One kiss," he says. "Quick, before I get raped and murdered by the evil zoos."

"You just don't give up." I grab his b.u.t.ton-up s.h.i.+rt and press my mouth against his. His lips are warm. Surprised, it takes him a millisecond to respond, and then we are kissing like starving people intent on devouring each other, familiar and new at once. Which is right when Sloth leans forward and bites his ear. Gio yelps, and the boys on the steps pause in their banter to look.

"Jesus! Get it off! f.u.c.k! Ow!"

"Sloth!"

Sloth lets go and hides his head behind my neck. Gio grabs at his bleeding ear and raises his fist, snarling. I angle my head so that any blow will hit me first. "You're lucky he's a herbivore," I say, calmly.

"Lucky, f.u.c.k. That f.u.c.king thing nearly f.u.c.king bit my f.u.c.king ear off. " He touches his ear, which is only nipped, and examines the smear of blood on his fingertips.

"I can tell you work with words."

"Not now, Zinzi. Ow. f.u.c.k. Do you think I need a

teta.n.u.s shot? I'm going to have to go to the f.u.c.king ER."

"You'll be fine. Thank you. I had a wonderful evening."

"Yeah, great. No, okay, I mean it. Apart from Dr Hannibal Lecter on your back."

"I'll see you tomorrow."

As the car pulls away into the night, D'Nice separates from the group across the road and saunters over, swinging an empty lengolongola lengolongola. His Vervet Monkey hugs his neck for balance.

"What's a sweet darkie girl like you doing with an umlungu umlungu like him?" D'Nice says. like him?" D'Nice says.

"Maybe he's my long-lost husband," I snap.

"Uh-huh," D'Nice says and there is something sharp and mean behind the drunk in his eyes.

CREDO August 2010 August 2010

The Once and Future King?

Moja Records' hitmaker has been in hiding for almost a decade. Evan Milton decade. Evan Milton pinned him down for his first one-onone interview in forever to talk teen pop, new club culture pinned him down for his first one-onone interview in forever to talk teen pop, new club cultureand the second coming of Odi Huron.

"I believe in second chances," Odysseus Huron says, sitting behind the mixing-desk in his a.n.a.logue/digital studio,an airy bunker built into the koppie at the back of hishouse, which is the base of operations for Moja Records.Necessary, as the notoriously reclusive Huron hasn't setfoot outside this rambling Westcliff property since 2001.He's not talking about himself, perhaps because he's already on his third or fourth go-around of chances. This is aman who has been dogged by controversy and tragedythrough four decades of music-making, who has somehowmanaged to rise from the ashes again and again. He makeslight of his past and his recent return to prominence. "Idon't think anyone walks through this industry unscathed,"he muses. "The only thing you can really do is become better equipped."

Every era has its reclusive musical genius; every genrehas its behind-the-scenes starmaker trailed by hints of controversy. Brian Wilson disappeared for decades beforereturning with Pet Sounds; James Brown always surfed alittle too close to the law; and let's just say the name of theDeath Row Records rap empire wasn't entirely coincidental. Closer to home, Africa's world music stars have beenaccused of human trafcking, embezzlement and involvement with blood diamonds, while the Nigerian governmentslapped Fela Kuti with a currency smuggling rap.

Mzansi has Odysseus Huron, the multi-platinum sellingproducer behind No. 1 sellers like Lily n.o.bomvu, Detective Wolf and Moro, and the man who launched Yeoville's illfated Ba.s.s Station nightclub as close to a South AfricanShrine or CBGB as we've ever had. It used to be that Odi Huron made hits and created sta.r.s.effortlessly. He's been part of South Africa's ever-evolvingcultural fabric since the dark days of apartheid, rightthrough the Rainbow Revolution and into the post-"BornFree" era. He's also the man who disappeared almost entirely from public view amidst rumours of ill health anddepression after the Ba.s.s Station tragedy and Lilyn.o.bomvu's death.

He is not an easy man to meet with or speak to. In fact,there's almost nothing easy about Odi Huron. For starters, he had to consult with a sangoma f sangoma for an auspicious dateto do the interview. This was followed by a credentialscheck to rival a visa application. Three weeks later, Odi'sbodyguard/dogsbody, James, ushers me into the houseand hands me a bullet-pointed list of no-go zones. "Hedoesn't want to talk about it," James warns."Come in, come in, what are you, a mugger lurking inthe doorway?" Huron gestures me impatiently into thelounge. He has a jokey way of putting people down, keeping them in their place.

Odi lives alone in this vast house. He orders his groceriesonline. Prospective artists email him their demos. Foreverything else, there's James.

The house has seen better days. This is no Ahmet Ertegun palace of genteel music-mogul diplomacy, but then,the man who started America's mighty Atlantic Recordsdidn't get drafted into smuggling guns across the bordersof apartheid-era South Africa for struggle activists. Odi'spast has been checkered to say the least.

In the '80s, he was one of a handful of white producers(think Gabi le Roux and Robert Trunz) who were willing totake a risk on black artists at a time when the apartheidgovernment frowned sternly on such "crossover" projects.Odi saw the musical potential of black artists and theircommercial possibilities. It would turn out to be a savvy career move.

Inside, it's not all pop-rock'n'roll. Perched on the edgeof a chair, holding her handbag and looking very out ofplace among the swinging '70s decor is a middle-agedlady. She stands up to greet me and introduces herself asPrimrose Luthuli, fumbling to explain that she's the twins'legal guardian.

The twins are the reason I'm here. S'busiso and Songweza Radebe, aka iJusi, aka Odi's latest flash of musicalgenius, aka the latest recipients of the platinum touch.They're also the "second chancers" he's talking about, theraw-talent pair who spurned his production and management offer to enter Starmakerz.

"It's total trash, demeaning to real artists," Odi says ofthe show. And based on the increasingly embarra.s.sing performances by winner Sholaine Pieters, he may have a point.

Odi approached the twins again just before the semi-finals,and this time they inked a three-alb.u.m deal.There's not a sentient soul in South Africa who hasn'theard "Spark" the sound of a million ringtones, accordingto the download stats. Infectiously catchy music is onething (earworm, anyone?), but star status requires morethan that, and Odi's touch could be seen in marketingcoups like licensing the track for the Chevy Spark ad campaign. If the buzz is anything to go by, the new single,"Drive-by Love", looks set to propel them even higher.

The teenyboppers in question are messing around in aswimming pool outside, painted a dark, depthless blue toretain the heat. S'bu is sitting on the side, his grey schoolpants rolled up, his black lace-up shoes next to him, barefeet dangling in the water. Songweza is thras.h.i.+ng aroundin neon green armbands. She's enthusiastic in the waterrather than adept, dog-paddling over to her brother tosplash the young heartthrob whose face smiles down frommany teenage walls.

The proverbial new leaf is one thing, but to see a manremade is another. Gone is the Odi who pioneered the dark,danger-thump club-swagger of a.s.segai or the broodings.e.xual undertones that powered Zakes Tsukudu's biggesthits. Now, it's all bright suns.h.i.+ne and two kids splas.h.i.+ngaround in a pool.

"No, man, Sooo-ooong!" S'bu yelps at his effervescenttwin.

"Well, get in!" she teases. He lobs his school shoe at thevoice behind the addictive chorus of "Sparks". She ducks.It plops into the water and sinks without a trace.

"Tsha!" Mrs Luthuli says, springing into action. "Who isgoing to pay for that?"

"Who said you should never work with kids or animals?"Huron quips. "They obviously didn't have Prim on theirside." He yells out the door, "You two, come say h.e.l.lo!"