Is AI reshaping the sound of Zimbabwean music?

Maria Chiguvari

THE music landscape has shifted dramatically with the advent of technology.

A new generation of musicians — and aspiring creatives — is now producing tracks without ever setting foot into a traditional studio.

Gone are the days of microphones hanging from the ceiling, producers hovering over massive mixing desks and live bands waiting for their cue.

Today, all it takes is a laptop, a pair of earphones and a spark of inspiration.

Within minutes, a beat is constructed and vocals added.

Lyrics that once took days or even months to perfect now materialise in moments.

This is the new world of music, powered by artificial intelligence (AI).

A few months ago, gospel musician Joshua “Josh” Mtima released “Zvichaita Chete”, a viral hit featuring The Unveiled.

Fans were later stunned to realise the musician had used AI to create the track.

Despite the revelation, the song has remained a powerful motivational anthem for his audience.

Similarly, Grace Wave’s AI-generated gospel song “Ndakainamatira Nyaya Iyoyi” has emerged as a breakout hit.

Released on February 12, it quickly climbed into the Apple Music Top 20 and garnered significant views on YouTube.

But, as this new wave grows, a larger question looms: Is this the future artistes have been waiting for, or is it the beginning of a shift we do not yet fully understand?

For many, AI is a transformative creative tool.

For others, it is a disruptive force that challenges the very concept of artistic identity.

Producer Jusa Demento, who has witnessed the evolution of recording from analogue tapes of the 1990s to modern digital workstations, views AI as the latest link in a long chain of technological progress.

“I believe AI still leaves room for human artistry. Human input remains vital; I consider AI a tool,” says Jusa.

“In the late 90s, recording meant syncing two cassette tapes. When computers arrived, analogue engineers feared for their jobs.

“Similarly, AI is simply removing some of the initial manual labour required to bring an idea to life.”

For decades, the “dream” to record music was often deferred by the high cost of studios, producers and equipment.

But AI is now “democratising” access.

An artiste can create a demo, shape their sound and experiment with genres without a massive budget.

This efficiency extends to visuals.

Regarding the conversation around Winky D’s AI “Fake Love” video — which recently won the Outstanding Video award at the National Arts Merit Awards (Nama) — Jusa notes that AI allows for “extraordinary” visions on a modest budget.

“To create those scenes with 10 000 soldiers using real people, you would be paying for 10 000 costumes and 10 000 lunches over several days,” Jusa explains.

“However, AI allows audiences to enjoy visions that were previously impossible due to financial constraints.”

The ethical red line

However, Jusa warns that boundaries are necessary, particularly regarding intellectual property (IP).

“There are models right now that can replicate the voice of legend Oliver Mtukudzi — cadence, style and all.

“If a model is trained on a specific voice to return a replica, there must be a level of remuneration and compensation.”

Global icons like Lil Wayne are less concerned.  In a recent interview on the “Not Just Football” podcast, Wayne welcomed the challenge.

“I love to be able to stand right next to whatever AI is . . . I am still better. I love it; I love the challenge of it,” he said.

Some arts creatives view the AI use conversation as a paradox.

While they find the speed of production exciting, they worry about the dilution of lived experience.

“Art is not just output; it is emotion, culture and struggle,” notes Plot Mhako, a creative entrepreneur and arts journalist.

“When AI replicates that without context or consent, it feels like something sacred is being diluted . . .

“We need stronger frameworks around ownership. The technology is moving faster than the policy.”

Veteran producer Clive Mono Mukundu views AI as simply “a new producer in the market”, but insists that Zimbabwean genres like sungura, jiti and Chimurenga still require a human touch.

“Our music is highly individualised and nuanced. Sungura can have a Pengaudzoke, Chimbetu or an Alick Macheso vibe but a human must be at the controls for that. AI is flawless at mixing Western music, but it is not there yet for our local genres,” argued Mukundu.

He also remains sceptical of the long-term hype, comparing the current AI craze to the rise and fall of non-fungible tokens (NFTs), many of which have since plummeted to zero value.

DJ Fydale, born Fidelis Isaac, argues that many African studios, particularly in Zimbabwe, are not yet equipped for a full AI takeover.

“AI relies heavily on stable internet and advanced systems — things many local setups still struggle with. Until those infrastructure gaps are addressed, AI remains more of a concept than a practical everyday tool for the majority of local players,” he said.