I recently completed a bundle of blogs on my one hundred and one favorite albums of the 1980s. There was the usual plethora of British bands, plus an assortment of Australian, New Zealand, and American groups. Purposefully, I left out all South African artists. There quite simply wasn’t space and felt it best that I (for now) ignore these home-brewed treasures of our youth. Here I make up for that with fifteen of the best LPs produced in that same decade by our very own local SA talent. So, in no particular order, let’s get started.
When the music changes so does the dance
African Proverb
Christmas day 2021 saw the family gathering at our property in Glenferness, a rustic conclave of small holdings in northern Johannesburg. Primarily it’s where the horsey set lives. I ain’t got a trusty steed myself, but you get the picture.
Middle brother Wayne was missing on this occasion but young Darren was there with his whole family. We were also joined by my mom’s brother (Guy), his wife (Bev), and one of their daughters (my cousin Nicole) for a pleasant, boozy afternoon of great food and easy conversation.
Sometime during the long leisurely lunch, something happened that made me think of a favourite South African album in this new series.
Some may recall that I have already written about this fine homegrown classic pictured below. In its original incarnation my story involved swapping my mint copy of Scatterlings with “Dagga Dave’s” tatty Ultravox Vienna LP. We had both been based at an army camp situated deep into the then, Northern “Transvaal” bush, and well, the trade seemed like a good idea at the time.
I started writing this new version way back in January 2022 and then shelved it for one reason or another. Over a year later I (with a nudge from Tania) decided to revisit the story and try to finish it. Happily, after a few weeks of work in February 2023 I managed to do so.
This then is the finished product.
Original South African Vinyl Release Track listing
“Siyayilanda” (Clegg) – 3:43
“Kwela Man” (Clegg) – 3:54
“Simple Things” (Clegg, Mchunu) – 3:57
“iJwanasibeki” (Clegg) – 4:50
“Two Humans on the Run” (Clegg) – 4:41
“Scatterlings of Africa” (Clegg) – 5:50
“Spirit is the Journey” (Clegg, Mchunu) – 4:40
“Digging for Some Words” (Clegg) – 4:12
“Shake My Way” (Mchunu) – 3:43
“Mad Dog” (Clegg) – 3:29
Scatterlings is the 4th studio album by Juluka, a South African band led by Johnny Clegg and Sipho Mchunu. It was released in 1982. Juluka released three other albums through the late 70s and early 80s that were all pretty darn good.
The Critics
on Juluka
American music journalist Robert Christgau wrote that “being a folkie in South Africa takes a lot more guts than it does in liberal societies, and that’s audible all over this album—as are the melodic resources of the Zulu tradition, which happen to be vocal rather than percussive.”
The Globe and Mail wrote that “the music is an unusual and immensely attractive hybrid of tuneful late sixties English folk (in the Fairport Convention, Renaissance mode) with African rhythms.“
Juluka
Juluka (meaning “sweat” in Zulu) was founded in 1969 by Johnny Clegg and Sipho Mchunu. They mixed Zulu music with influences from rock and Celtic music. As a multiracial band in apartheid-era South Africa, Juluka frequently had trouble with the police, and their songs were banned by state-run radio stations, but their brand of Afro-pop nonetheless became popular.
Back to that Christmas lunch in 2021 … and specifically one of the guests.
Back when we all lived in Port Elizabeth my mom’s brother was known as Butch to all and sundry. However, that side of the family has quite a complex surname history.
We were born Layfield but my mom changed our surnames when she married Boulle!! So Guy then became Butch Boulle – pronounced (Bull). We both hated the man therefore the surname changed when he was gone. I also have no idea where the name “Butch” came from. We just always called him that.
my mom, Wendy Layfield, (then) Boulle, now Wilson
My mom was presented with three names at birth by my erratic/eccentric gran. Wendy Ann Maude was what dear old Phyllis came up with for her firstborn. Then the brother, who arrived a few years later, also received a triple-shot in given names. Butch shares a birthday with King Charles lll – the 14th of November 1953. Charles is five years older, arriving in 1948. Therefore our uncle has the names Guy CHARLES Ernest in honour of the future (and now present) King of the United Kingdom and all its realms.
To us young ‘uns Guy Charles Ernest was simply called uncle Butch. He was a cool, curly-haired surfer-type dude that seemed to have many beautiful women falling at his feet. It was in his bedroom in Redhouse Village (on the outskirts north of PE) that I saw condoms for the first time. They were scattered (still wrapped, in case you were wondering) on his bedside table. Even though I only had a VERY vague notion of what they were used for I was mightily impressed by them being there.
Butch was a surf lifesaver, at Bluewater Bay, just up the coast from Port Elizabeth itself. We spent many hours with him on that beach yearning to one day be like this sun-bronzed lifesaving God of the Eastern Cape. For a very short time, I found myself walking in his footsteps as a junior lifesaver on the self-same strip of surf and sand. We, little learner lifeguards, were called ‘nippers,’ but this didn’t last long. Soon the game of cricket would come calling and save me from a multitude of my lifesaving shortcomings.
To make him even more appealing uncle Butch had also been in the army. He’d been a proper soldier too, serving as an infantryman in South West Africa in the early 1970s. His Red House bedroom would be littered with impressive-looking army browns and assorted military gear. You could smell when he was home on a pass – that distinctive sweat-filled army-clobber odour permeating from his bedroom.
He didn’t speak a lot about those times but you got the feeling from what little you picked up that he’d seen some action – and possibly some bad shit.
However all the above is not only what made my uncle a stone-cold hero in my young eyes. No, wait, there is more! In fact, it was this little surf-ski paddling event he did every year that really did the trick.
But before we get to that, here’s some more Juluka.
Kwela Man
“When I followed your music [Kwela man], it filled my soul [Kwela Kwela], When you sang your songs [Kwela man], You gave it your life” 😦 RIP Johnny. Thank YOU for the music)
Martyn Evans
If you are wondering why I am telling you all this about my uncle Butch, well, there is a reason. I will get to it. As I said there’s this paddle he did. I Googled it to see what the internet had to say about it. This is what I came up with.
THE TOUGHEST OCEAN PADDLING RACE IN THE WORLD
The Port Elizabeth to East London Challenge holds iconic status among South African paddlers as an ultra-distance event where simply finishing is a victory.
For almost 50 years now, off the East Coast of Southern Africa, men of the South African Surf Lifesaving community have been taking on a monumental challenge every 24 Months. Known as “The Maker of Men”, “The Blood, guts & glory race”, “4 days of hell at sea” or simply “The Challenge” it has captivated the minds of the public through the sheer toughness and bravery of the competitors and the paddling community who offer deep respect to those who can say “I have done it.”
Competitors in the Surf Ski Challenge are true masters of stamina, strength, and courage – and they keep coming back for more!
“The real challenge is pitting your fitness and skill against Mother Nature – a fickle lady – Currents, surf, heat, wind, sharks, and Blue Bottles all pose potential threats. The race takes the paddlers 250km over 4 days from Port Elizabeth to East London in South Africa along some of the most beautiful, but harshest coast-line in the world.”
I asked my uncle recently how many of those Lucky Strike (as they were then known) Challenges he did. Also when he did them. He replied …
‘I finished two, 1975 and 1977 in a single ski. My next attempt was in a double but we broke in half during the second day and called it quits. I then left Port Elizabeth and never paddled surf-ski again‘
F**k me I was super impressed every time he finished one and didn’t get eaten by a shark. To be honest, in my young mind (or now in my beaten-up old mind) it seemed as if he had done more of those challenges.
One year my gran (Butch’s mom) and I followed him up the coast in her yellow VW kombi. We spent a day watching from afar (but I don’t think ever saw him) as he edged his way across the big blue sea.
Late that afternoon Butch hauled himself and his pencil-thin craft out of a dangerous and angry-looking ocean. Appearing like he’d just crossed Zoo Lake in a rowing boat! Only kidding, he looked pretty knackered! But even more God-like than ever before!
Look closely at the picture below and you can see all the plasters on his fingers. No doubt covering the blisters from the gruelling hours spent clutching that heavy paddle.
Back to Johnny and Juluka …
iJwanasibeki
Blow whistle blow
Down you go alive
The cage is falling
Like a comet in the night
Beads of sweat glisten
In the underground light
Smoulder boulder
Rock reeks fumes
Songs of the outlands
Change colour when shift is due
And you’ve grown a little older
Seen bone blown smoking blue!
Butch soon also left his hometown in Algoa Bay. Armed with a BA degree (main subjects: Industrial Psychology, Business Economics, Geography) from the University of Port Elizabeth he joined the Toyota motor corporation and became a suit.
He married Bev, and they moved to Kloof in Natal to further his career with Toyota. Later the sea became even more distant when the family trekked inland to live in Pretoria as Guy rose to a senior management position within the giant Japanese car manufacturer.
By now I also had two cousins Nicole and Lara.
Somewhere along the way, Butch reverted back to being called Guy and officially changed his surname to Keeling. So he was now uncle Guy, haha, it still doesn’t sound right.
The surname Keeling originates from my great-grandfather pictured below. This is also where Butch’s two other given names come from. Our ompa was born in England in 1899 and fought in, and survived both world wars. He emigrated to South Africa sometime after the second one.
Skip forward two decades or so and we are at the 2021 Christmas lunch I mentioned earlier. Guy Keeling is there with his attractive wife Bev, but only one cousin, Nicole. Nicky now lives in Cape Town but was up visiting her mom and dad for the holidays.
The youngest daughter, Lara, has emigrated to Malta with her boyfriend Michael. An event that was proving difficult for all involved.
Fun fact: Lara dated the Indian international cricketer Kuldeep Yadav for a short while a few years back.
Lara Keeling
Sometime during lunch, a video call comes in from Lara – apparently her umpteenth of the day. Bev tells us that she is terribly homesick and missing her family.
This is when I thought of the Juluka song “Scatterlings.” Here Johnny’s lyrics explore the “myriad dislocations” experienced by all Africans. South Africans included. Back then though the people Clegg would have been writing about were predominantly black folk.
Over many decades African people have been leaving their homes and countries to seek work elsewhere. Some North into Europe, while others drifted south, with the South African gold mines being a “favoured” destination for thousands of migrant workers. Many, of course, fled the country of their birth that, in short, had let them down. Corrupt governments and civil wars are rife on this beautiful continent of ours. Displacement of people is commonplace.
In the almost thirty years of our new democracy in South Africa, we have seen the worrying trend of skilled people leaving our beautiful country. Recently they have begun “evacuating” in droves. The corruption within the inept ANC party that has been in charge of our beloved homeland since 1994 now joins the long list of failed African governments. Like the millions of Zimbabweans before them, our friends and family have now begun to disperse all over the globe.
I have often wondered what it is like for my Malawian gardeners or Zimbabwean carpet fitters. To have left behind their homes and loved ones. How do their moms and dads cope with their leaving? Or their children? Surely it cannot be easy, even if it does seem to be the “African way.”
That afternoon I saw first-hand the pain it causes all those concerned. My old uncle Butch was visibly upset during these calls from Lara throughout the afternoon. Whether it was because his daughter now lived in a strange country thousands of kilometers from her home – and he was missing her terribly. Or, it was because she was struggling with the adjustment. I’m sure it would have been a bit of both of these.
Twice, visibly upset with tearful eyes, he rose from the table and took himself off to be alone. Standing somewhere hidden in our large garden as he quietly composed himself.
‘Copper sun sinking low
Scatterlings and fugitives
Hooded eyes and weary brows
Seek refuge in the night‘
“Scatterlings of Africa” is a 1982 song by the South African band Juluka, first released on their 1982 album Scatterlings. It was re-released in 1987 by Juluka’s successor band Savuka on Third World Child. The song was a commercial success, charting in France and the United Kingdom. The rousing and upbeat music incorporated Zulu influences. The song introduced the music of Johnny Clegg, the cofounder of Juluka and Savuka, to Western audiences.
‘And we are the scatterlings of Africa
Both you and I
We are on the road to Phelamanga
Beneath a copper sky
And we are the scatterlings of Africa
On a journey to the stars
Far below, we leave forever
Dreams of what we were
We are the scatterlings of Africa‘
‘There goes my hero
Watch him as he goes
There goes my hero
He’s ordinary
Kudos, my hero
Leavin’ all the mess
You know my hero
The one that’s on‘
Songwriters: David Eric Grohl / Nate Mendel / Pat Smear
Post-script
My Uncle “Butch” aka Guy Keeling is still my hero by the way. After he was “retired” by Toyota a few years back he set about writing his book on the Anglo-Boer War. It’s called ‘The Raw War‘ and is hopefully due to be published later this year.
At 69 years of age, my uncle continues to push himself and his body to the limit. Open-water swimming is his chief endurance sport these days. Long-distance events are still his thing.
The last few years have seen my uncle swim the ‘Golden Mile’ event at Midmar in Kwazulu Natal. What is this, you may ask? Well, this is for those hard-core swimmers who complete eight Midmar Miles over two days! Yes, folks, that’s four (miles) per day. I’ve done many Midmar’s but only one per day, thank you very much. Although maybe I’ll join him if he does one in his 70s one day.
More “Scatterlings”
It seems my cousin Nicole too will soon be leaving our beloved shores. She’s bidding Cape Town adieu and taking up a position as a dietician in the United Kingdom. Even further away from mom and dad. Also Malta doesn’t quite seemed to have been what Lara and Michael had hoped for. Pretty soon they will be heading south again – but this time Australia beckons – and not our bruised and battered homeland on the southern tip of Africa.
😢
Here’s the late, great Johnny Clegg …
Proudly South African Music
Thanks for reading my South African music blog called ‘Digging For Some Words.’ Thanks to my mom and uncle Butch for their help with this one.
I will one day return with the next installment of my ‘15 Proudly South African 80s albums.’
Shala👋Botse
Spikeysongs © 2023
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