Johannesburg – I love music, all kinds of music, and I have a collection to shame ama-2000.
I grew up in a shebeen during the 80s when Tina Turner, Lionel Richie, Stimela, Lucky Dube, Brook Benton and Donna Summer were the staple on our LP system.
I remember the 90s fondly when kwaito and rhythm and blues came of age. I was serenaded by Aliyah and hopped to Trompies while I crushed on Mary J Blige’s ample behind.
To this day, I listen to all kinds of genres: reggae, indie folk, house, maskandi, soul, and even amapiano.
To demonstrate my love, I bought myself a guitar and taught myself to play through YouTube. In the days before the advent of the internet, I learnt the lyrics from Jive magazine while Wilson B Nkosi kept me informed about my favourite artists.
I purchased my cassettes and compact discs by mail order. Ah, those were the halcyon days!
These days, of course music and videos are available in the palm of your hand, as smartphones have evolved. Plagiarism is the order of the day and USB cables and bluetooth technology exchange music the minute an artist releases their latest single.
My contention with these technologies is an increase in noise pollution and almost everyone believing they are disc jockeys.
I make time to listen to my music at set times, such as weekends. On shorter drives, I prefer to stay informed through talk radio while Barry White helps me on long road trips.
At home, I prefer a contemplative environment, especially in the mornings while I’m rebooting my mental faculties.
Sadly for me, on a recent week-long visit to my brother’s abode, the neighbours chose to pollute my space through their incessant doofdoof from the minute they wake up.
On the one side is an unemployed boy who presses the play button before even brushing his teeth. On the other is another spoilt brat who belts the most horrendous tunes to assault my auricular organ.
Then there is another Vrrrphaa boy who visits his girlfriend daily and leaves his car stereo slamming amapiano at high volume.
What in the name of hell makes people inconsiderate to other people’s spaces?
There is definitely a difference between music and noise. The first boy even falls asleep with his hi-fi at full throttle.
Could this be the reason those Thandabantu stores frequented by black customers put huge speakers outside from morning until they close?
I’m sorry but I’d rather shop at the malls where retailers play soothing music at reasonable decibels.
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