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Singing the Zim blues
Kwanele Sosibo, Mail & Guardian (SA)
August 25, 2006

Although Zimbabwean citizen and model Chengetai has been based in South Africa for about three years now – working with luminaries such as Louis Mhlanga and Selaelo Selota – she still operates more or less under the radar. The local media, not quite sure what to make of her urban cocktail of sweeping pan-African influences, has basically avoided her.

Her record label, Malaquai, a small indie owned by her Johannesburg-based producer Christophe le Du, does not quite have the muscle to guarantee her ubiquity just yet, but they are working on a long-term strategy. She is currently on a promotional tour of sorts in support of her second album under the imprint, entitled Nightingirl.

Chengetai has already made several appearances in venues such as Roca Bar, 88, the Alliance Francaise and Freedom Square in Kliptown, where she performed on Women’s Day.

My first encounter with her was at the new incarnation of the famed Monday Blues sessions a few weeks ago. CIA, the show’s organizer, was having some issues with the sound-man, forcing Chengetai to perform with two amped-up guitars and no mic. Despite her giggly complaints about the missing mic and the frequency with which she was drowned out by bassist Nseka Bienvenu and guitarist Le Du, it was quite clear that she possesses a delicate, uniquely textured voice that is equally capable of holding floating notes and sustaining seductive growls.

Back at 88 for her second of three gigs there in three weeks, the debate is on with the woman seated next to me. She hears former Groove Theory chanteuse Amel Larrieux, I swear I hear Desiree. Her seven-piece band is three songs into her set of tortured love songs and it’s becoming obvious that they either need a sound engineer or they are not playing intuitively enough. Just as her voice is far back in the mix on her album, on the stage the band tends to drown out her Shona, English and French lyrics instead of arranging the songs around her. A more varied use of dynamics, as on French roots reggae track A Vills das Mangas, would flatter her voice and enhance her act tremendously.

While capable of handling pacey numbers such as Rumba Ye Afrika, I must confess a bias to Chengetai’s more wistful material, such as the sparse rendition of Decembre, which she returned to the stage to dedicate to a special friend, cigarette precariously close to the mic chord.

While it’s too early for me to say for sure, Chengetai seems not to care about the demographics of her fan base. Her gig drew a handful of close friends and what I imagine are 88 regulars. As she said to me after her set: "If you’re in South Africa, to me, you’re South African."

Her music, in fact, once fine-tuned, can have the cross-cultural mass appeal of, say, Freshlyground, which makes her grimace when Le Du lists the group as an inspiration. But in Chengetai’s case, tension is good. How else could a 24-year old sing the blues with such fiery aplomb?

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