What Music readers have to say

articles. Of all fatiguing, futile, empty trades, the worst is writing about writing.
To those who have written to me I must thank you with all my heart as your e-mails have helped me to develop my faculty of appreciation. I have received both positive and negative comments about my writings and this has strengthened me to be sensitive to the readers of my column.
Writing has a way of putting life in a strait jacket. I have made every attempt to respond personally to all those who have written to me, but I have always had enough sense not to try and bite off more than I can chew.
So to those of you who did not receive any responses, I humbly apologise for this misdemeanour.
I am often asked to write about topics ranging from mbira music, groups to individual artistes, but this week I have been asked to write about things which I am not capable of giving answers to.
For instance, one reader is asking me why bands at their peak often split up. He was referring to the recent departure from Oliver Mtukudzi’s band by Charles Chipanga, Never Mpofu, Namatayi Mubariki and Simba Dembedza. I have referred him to Oliver Mtukudzi for the answer.
I have also received an e-mail from Edwin Gamuchirai asking me why President Mugabe gave Steven Muzhingi US$50 000, Munyaradzi Chidzonga US$300 000, Wendall Parson US$50 000 and Vimbai Mutinhiri US$10 000 in recognition of their efforts in sports and participation in Big Brother respectively.
Edwin asks: “Does it mean that the President does not see the efforts of the likes of Oliver Mtukudzi who has carried the Zimbabwean flag all over the world? When is Tuku getting the same recognition?”
Another e-mail from a Jennifer Mtungwazi is asking me why musicians such as Thomas Mapfumo and Leonard Zhakata are using music to challenge political and social systems while remaining apolitical. She also questions the messages coming from Oliver Mtukudzi whose lyrics are also filled with political innuendos while remaining apolitical in public life.
She goes on to argue that if Tuku, who is already very popular with the masses, stood for a political post in Norton or Harare, he would have a resounding victory over whoever dares to challenge him.
“But my worry is: most artistes do not want to make their political inclinations known and they prefer to hide them in their artistic works. What is the fear? Should artistes be afraid of other human beings?” she asks.
The biggest scoop comes from Stephen Roskilly, who has written in response to my article of last week, “Where Have All The White Musicians Gone?”
Steve is now based in Gloucestershire in the United Kingdom. He says, and I quote him verbatim:
I was interested to see your article about us white musicians. We certainly do seem to have moved on in a big way, but not always for the better, as the grass isn’t always greener elsewhere. Though I think we had much more fun in Zim in those heady days, and that counted for a lot, even if incomes were often tight.
There was always a willing audience and opportunities for any musician wishing to put in the hours to get a degree of competency, and that seemed to engender some brilliant bands. In my own case, I moved out of Zim and back to the UK for a variety of reasons that all seemed to conspire against me at once.
Yes there are a lot of regrets, but a huge amount of very fond memories to last me a lifetime. I had a wonderful relationship with so many really good musos and stay in touch with quite a few through Facebook mostly. But there are still loads more that I’ve managed to lose touch with too, and that is another regret.
I think the “family” atmosphere amongst all the musicians was a real bonus for everyone, as they all had a common purpose with common problems. Just going back over that long period of trying to get licences to import instruments either as Shed Studios or as ZIMIA, the battle was always one of seeking improvements for the industry.
It was a momentum that we tried hard to keep going. Sure we didn’t have the world’s greatest studios, but it always surprised me that we managed to hang in there, surviving, while so many other outfits came and went. That was a 20-year record that I was very proud of.
Since leaving, I had a long period trying to re-establish credibility in this mad music industry here, and soon decided that was very much a young man’s sport. After all, every man and his dog had a garage studio with Cubase or Pro-Tools, so not much point me trying to compete.
I managed to get into an ailing sound and lighting company in Cheltenham, and across several years moved it back to profitability. Since 2008 though I’ve been giving all my attention to an audio visual company in Gloucester that I helped to start, and this has brought the fun back into work again at last. Not exactly what I had hoped I might have been doing at this age, but I do enjoy the youthful energy of everyone I work with.
My old friend Martin Norris is still in Brisbane, Australia, performing as Phil Everly in a tribute band, that seems to be very popular. David Scobie is still in Scotland with his vocalist partner Bridget, and they release music as BROGUE, a sort of Scottish/African mix of styles.
The loss of Benny Millar from Klunk was a great shock, as of course he was one of our Shed directors and shareholders. He was a nice inoffensive bloke that tried so hard to have an easy lifestyle. Sort of backfired on him big time. Poor old Benny.
The Bhundus, well what can you say? They deserted Shed and took up with Warners who threw them out after a year. So much in-fighting, and then Biggie Tembo’s death. He and I had a tempestuous relationship musically. Somehow we clicked in the recording process, but boy was he a Jekyll and Hyde character. I had such high hopes for him, but it was a complete disaster. Poor old larger-than-life Biggie.
Nick Pickard also died some years ago, of course, and there was yet another huge talent that really never made the big time. I remember doing Clem Tholet’s second album with Nick producing. Such great sessions. Then there was Clem. Behind all the politics, there was a great romantic musician, producing some stunning melodies that we only really started to capture in the short time we had to record him.
If only we could have spent much longer, I know some of that music could have gone global, even if he himself wasn’t the artiste. Another sad end too. A debilitating disease that chewed away at his fingers leaving him unable to play his guitar, and then death.
Quite a morbid list really. BUT great memories of them all. Your article has just opened the floodgates.
If I had to choose people who I’m most proud of though, it has to be Bothwell Nyamhondera and Kelly Rusike who took what I had done to much greater heights.
Then, of course, there was Chris Martin, who spent six months with me in the studios and PA company, before university then started Coldplay. So I’ve got to include him.
I still do the odd bit of live audio, but that is mainly running festival stages during the season. Strange though, I was thinking the other day how I am really aching to start being creative again.
There’s a good chance I’ll put together a small computer recording set-up and have some fun again. No idea what for though. Most fun though belonged to Zimbabwe.
As seen above, Steve sums up the music world in Zimbabwe and the UK nicely.
Have a good day!