Retsi Pule is an outlandish but calming, stunning soul, even earlier than he opens his mouth. It immediately knocked me sideways to understand that this cat has an enormous coronary heart and larger creative ambitions.
Tautology, even seemingly senseless repetition, for these of us who grew up on the new streets of Marabastad, Temba/Mazakhele, GaMampyane, Munsieville, Orlando, Mdantsane, Duncan Village, Dube Village, Crimson Location, New Brighton, Langa, or what are you aware? Elsies, Gugs, and waar vat my nou? Vlakfontein, and so on, by no means been a matter of grammatical malfunction, however the backbeat to our bitter, if usually lilting, Blues. Both method, it is our “jive”.
So if you heard somebody’s greetings, Ek se, wat se? And the response, Es (is) Double Dolly, you jazz knew there’s music within the air. My technology, sui generis, would sing again the reply to the wellbeing greetings with: “Es Tjovitjo, mei Outie.” Identical music. Completely different ends of the chain of sounds of Black People.
Thus when requested: How is Ou’ Retsi Pule, again in my searching streets of Mjipa, you recognize which music I’ll sing again: Ou’ Retse es Singali, it is mjojo. Stuffed with beans in any case these years.
One/Two .. One/Two… a Track for Retsi.