After six years of touring, it was a welcome change to be driving on a road not yet driven on by us (or too many others). Oldfaithfull, our trusted bakkie, roared as we swerved past another pothole. We thought we were somewhere between Mdumbi and Coffee Bay.
We were quite lost, but enjoying the scenery. The cold beers we stumbled upon in a local shebeen made us feel right at home in the middle of a rainy rural Transkei.
Earlier this year we spent a month traveling, not as Zinkplaat, but as nameless troubadours playing in backpackers along the coast in exchange for beds and something to eat. We used the time to try out new material, to reinvent some old songs, and to find the fire that helped us through those lean years before MK came along. In those days we played for food and drink, the chance to sell our debut album and the promise of finding new customers for our bootlegged wine.
This time around we were just taking the long way home. We spent December’s first weekend in a gorge in the Eastern Freestate without cellphone reception, tents or any food. It was the Sterrefees (Stars Festival) outside of Lady Grey, and as usual, we went totally unprepared. Luckily our friends New Holland, Willim Welsyn and Ettienne Terreblanche also came. The festival rained out, but the music didn’t. The campfire jams alone were worth the trip.
Our next gig would be in Plett, but we had some time to kill, and heard that the Transkei offered some awesome ways of doing just that.
Having just come from some studio time back in Stellenbosch, our spirits were high. Our new tracks were different, but somehow more “us” than ever before. Bands always say that about their new work, but being on our fourth album, we were really starting to find the groove and enjoying some experimentation. We have found that each of our albums have somehow acted as a compass guiding the way to a new sound. We lose some fans, we make some new ones, and we enjoy the evolution. On the new tracks everybody sings, and everybody picked up at least one new instrument. On each subsequent album, all of us have claimed bigger stakes in the writing of the material. Naturally this leads to much more fighting, but hopefully also to a better product.
Getting lost in the Transkei is nice and all, but the real reason Decembers are fun, is Die Avontoer . It’s a tour that we helped start back in ’06 featuring Die Helde, Foto Na Dans, Sondag Sensasie (now New Holland) and a bunch of other young bands. It has grown into something bigger than we could ever have thought. This year features 10 bands from all over the country. We’re all close friends, but still, the game is on.
The best part about doing Die Avontoer is crashing into a new town, luring away the children like some demented pied pipers, confronting them with the best music around, and leaving their shaking bodies in our wake, knowing they’ll never be the same again. It even happens to us. We tell each other that we are going to take it easy before every show, but then Tidal Waves start up, or Foto Na Dans launches into a frenzy, or Die Helde plays their last show. We always end up on the dance floor. It’s where we belong.
We’re looking forward to jamming some of the new stuff for the crowds on the coast. Playing live is the best way of seeing if songs work or not.
December is wheels turning. It’s bodies churning. It’s fires burning. It’s hearts yearning. It’s bands earning. It’s love learning. It’s what we live for, and will probably die for one day.
If we can get out of the Transkei.
-Beer Adriaanse (First appeared on Levi’s Online Music Blog/ edited by Jess Henson)