Rising cappella stars say their harmonies are 'melodic medication' - and reckon God is the fourth member of their band. By Leigh-Anne Hunter
Stop the music. He'd heard enough. He'd wanted to give these young guys a chance when they'd stepped into his studio. Then they'd started clapping, you know, and harmonising. What was that about, huh? That stuff didn't sell.
"He told us: 'You're not gonna get anywhere with this boring sound'," purrs Buhle Mda from the a cappella sensation The Soil, who turns heads when she glides into the Soweto chesa nyama.
They stuck to their guns. "Local musicians should stop copying foreign artists," says Buhle. "It's annoying."
That music producer must have kicked himself when their eponymous 2011 debut album went platinum.
They chose their name for a good reason. "People piss on the soil. It's underrated, but that's where life starts."
Then for, I swear, the fifth time, our waitress squeaks: "Anything I can get you?" She grins at Buhle and brothers Ntsika and Luphindo Ngxanga aka Master P, all in their 20s. It says a lot when men can whip out their pink pocket hankies and still ooze machismo.
The trio are the remnants of a 25-member Soweto high-school ensemble that formed a decade ago. They call themselves a quartet - God is the main member, they say.
"We're not ashamed to speak about God. That's what sets our music apart," Ntsika says.
"It comes from a sacred place. We aim to give people goosebumps." He calls it melodic medication, which must be true: they're a joyful bunch.
They grew up listening to Apostolic music at church. But they don't do gospel. They call their sound "kasi soul". "We sing about things in the kasi that people can relate to. Poverty, love, family," says Buhle.
When they perform, you forget you're listening to a cappella, says one critic. At school they couldn't afford instruments, so they slapped rulers on their desks and hummed the notes of violins. Master P taught himself to beatbox. It takes skill: you're using your lips, tongue, teeth, he says. "I had hectic migraines."
When the brothers rehearsed at their Protea Glen home, where their mom ran a spaza, patrons hovered near the window to listen. The band jammed at poetry sessions, entered freestyle battles and busked to fill seats at the National Arts Festival in Grahamstown, their big break.
"I want those kids," a music producer said after seeing them perform, phoning while they were at a radio interview to offer them a recording contract on-air.
Then things "got crazy": their track Sedilaka featured in the Halle Berry film Dark Tide.
Last year, they won best afro-soul at the SA Traditional Music Achievement Awards, and they're performing in Glasgow for the 2014 Commonwealth Games. "We're sprinkling The Soil all over the world," they tell me. It's beautiful.
Perhaps if they had stuck to their original idea for a name (Particles of the Soil), they would have scuppered some cosmic plan. Ntsika would be pursuing his chemical engineering career, and you'd only ever hear ex-call-centre-agent Buhle's honeyed voice over a helpline.
Ladysmith Black Mambazo was an influence, but there's a vast difference between them, they tell me, saying they've brought back a cappella with "an urbanised Soweto, new millennium sound", giving auto-tune a run for its money.
They shot onto the list of top-five most-viewed South African YouTubers after their Sunday music video went viral on varsity campuses, I'm told.
"The soil is basic and raw, like our music. We're honest, sometimes too honest," says Ntsika. "Nothing falls in your lap in this industry. We've paid our dues. Being a musician comes with responsibilities. Kids are watching you." Diplomatic as ever, he says of the many groups that have sprung up in their shadow: "It's brilliant that we blazed a trail."
Songs come to him in dreams. It all sounds a little Pollyanna until, as casually as he would ask me to pass the sugar, he sings Baby Girl, drumming the coffee table and, okay, I admit it, I get goosebumps.
They're inspired by "the oldies" and did a medley with Dorothy Masuka.
"If we'd been born years ago, we would have been Sophiatown stars," says Buhle.
"We're bringing the old songs back to life," Ntsika says, peering out at Vilakazi Street. "Our generation thinks they know it all. We're reminding people where they came from."
Going global, could they lose their identity? They look earnest, then say "Nah!", and carry on chatting about last night's soccer.
- Check the Soil's Facebook page for details on their national Reflections tour.