The cool cats of yesteryear

There was a time in the cultural history of this country when it was “cool to be American”.

In the ’60s and ’70s, the trend was spending Sunday mornings in church and afternoons belting out jazz music, soul and local African sounds from Kenwood and Blaupunkt – among other sound systems.

Dressing up in original gear made in the US – Arrow shirts, Dickies, Levi’s, London Fog, Dobbs, Peter Brown, Bass, Barker, Crocket, Converse and BF Goodrich sneakers – all to impress the ladies, was the norm. In a world of ladies and true gents, good music went along with dressing up.

I have vivid memories of my late elder brother Khusta, revered by peers as “the American”, due to his dress sense, walk and American slang. While he never visited the US, he had made good friends with Americans working as seamen on US cargo ships.

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Whenever these would dock at Algoa Bay in Port Elizabeth, Khusta’s African-American friends, he referred to as Yanks, would not forget to alert him of their arrival.

After work, he would take them out to a treat in the townships of Zwide, kwaZakhele and New Brighton, where they would enjoy a braai, being introduced to pretty women – washing down the food with drinks and good jazz. It was in those encounters where he perfected the American slang.

His mentor, Bra Togotyi in New Brighton’s Mendi Street, took things to another level by doing American slang in isiXhosa, drawing laughter from those standing near him at a local bus stop. In appreciation, the Americans would not only offer Khusta dollars, but plenty of trendy “made in USA clothes” as presents.

That was how powerfully American culture gripped black townships during apartheid South Africa – a period of political lull after the Sharpeville massacre and the banning of the ANC and the PAC.

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With US President Joe Biden having proclaimed June as marking Black Music Month – paying tribute to the contribution of legendary African-American artists – it has been fitting to recall how music has evolved from blues, soul and fusion to funk.

While the history of jazz music is often debated, jazz cats agree on the geography of origin – a uniquely American sound, forged in the melting pot of cultures in the south, particularly in New Orleans.

The younger generation of today can hold on to hip-hop or rap music – a genre of popular music that originated in the Bronx – but give me Jimmy Smith, Johnny Hodges, Duke Ellington, Miles Davis, Nancy Wilson, Sarah Vaughn, Hugh Masekela, Abdulla Ibrahim, Aretha Franklin, Ella Fitzgerald, Bob James, Letta Mbulu, Caiphus Semenya, Miriam Makeba and Mahotella Queens at any time.

What I have often enjoyed with a vinyl collection of LPs has been spending time to read from the covers, which gave me much insight into the various compositions, how they were conceived and more about the artists.

From a young age, I was lucky to be in the company of such serious jazz enthusiasts and collectors like Bra Lukes Dlokolo and Bra Kuyu, who would take me through a jazz masterclass after school. But music production has these days gone too high-tech – from LPs, cassettes, CDs, to the downloading of music through apps – all to the detriment of artists. Few people buy music.

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Visiting record shops to listen to the latest releases and buy has nowadays been replaced by downloading.

Dressing up, with shirts properly tucked in, has been replaced by trousers hanging behind bottoms, with young people referring to themselves as “niggers” – a swear word synonymous to be called the k-word. Is this the new cool?