The Blunt Smokers Guide To Spain

My name is Gaz and I am a teacher.


It’s rather a weird thing since I was such a massive soft serve turd of a student. For some reason though, I’m pretty damn good at my job… nah… fuck it… I’m fucking AMAZING at it!!!

Anyway, I teach children and teenagers, which at first is somewhat intimidating. I’ve done some shit in my life, but standing in front of a full class of Spanish 12-year-olds can make any persons palms sweat (well, especially if you’re a catholic priest, but that’s an entirely different story, for an entirely different day). Something you may not know about the Spanish, is that they are, hmmm, how shall I put this, uh, somewhat FUCKING RACIST!!!! Not in the offensive North Pretoria ‘Apartheid never ended donker sleutel, get back to work’ sorta way, but more, ‘I’m Just an ignorant prick’ sorta way.

Angry 'cause it's over.

Angry ’cause it’s over.

I mean, really, get with the goddamn program, we have seen enough to get over the whole race bullshit already!!! No? It’s just me??? Well fine then…

So… there I am, taking this class, introducing myself to these kids, and I have this routine, see. I play a game of hang man, with my name as a subject of the game. Once they’ve guessed my name, I ask where it’s from, eventually they guess that it’s from Ireland. Great! Well done you stupid little cocksuckers… whoops, I really don’t know where that came from!! Next, I get the little snot smugglers to guess where I’m from… America… Nope… Spain… ??? Really!!!! SPAIN!!! DO I LOOK SPANISH???? Nope… Australia …. Yes … Really? NOPE!….

You get the idea….

Eventually I get them to guess South Africa. They never believe me. And often for the same reason….

‘You’re not black… How can you be from South Africa?’

So, this is supposed to be about smoking, and it is. It is about smoking in Spain, which is pretty damn awesome. And this is exactly the reason I started with the background that I chose. You see, having moved to Spain to escape the bitter in the mouth and the sharp stab in the chest that Jozies is to me, I was initially gobsmacked by Spain. Reeling from the crisis, it had the sense of hard times, but not as grand hard times as you’d expect, more like the hard times of waking up from a siesta and not feeling like going to work.

Seriously!!! Talk about walking down the road to work at 10:00 (yeah, I start classes earliest at ten o’clock… I’ll let you process that for a bit…) and seeing people drinking beer at the street cafes… Yup, fuck that crisis shit, I’m a drink a motherfucking beer BITCH!!!

I was pretty charmed; it really seemed I had found some like-minded individuals… And this was all before I had investigated their cannabis legislation. That was when I really fell in love. You see, Spain has decided that all this nonsense of a war on drugs helps no-one, and much like her neighbour Portugal did a few years back, Spain has decriminalised cannabis, allowing for any treatment to be healthcare based and not criminally based. Is that so fucking hard? Why, when the drug debate rages, do people have to lump in all the other drugs in with cannabis? If we simply look at the various effects, they are in no way comparable, but this is not the place for this discussion.

The bottom line is that it is legal to grow and legal to smoke. It is not legal to buy or sell. This is fantastic, especially if you’ve been here for long enough to be able to grow. It is not so good if you haven’t been able to grow, because it is near to impossible to find some beautiful clean green supreme for sale.



Hash is everywhere, but not so much the green.


1+1= winning

And now we get to the crux of this here novel.

The older I get, the more nerve-wracking it becomes to hook up a new supplier. I think it’s because I look like a narc.

Undercover Narc much?

Undercover Narc much?

Shaved head facial hair and a fondness for chinos, button ups and sunnies don’t really help the image. So what, I’m in my thirties, I like chinos. Living in a country that doesn’t speak English doesn’t help. Doing this sort of transaction in my broken Spanish would probably make for a good candid camera.

Fortunately, I managed to make a connection. A somewhat intimidating looking Moroccan with what we will term as fair to moderate amount of tattoos. By which I mean a fuck load… an absolute fuck load. This guy is pretty fucking scary looking, just in case I under sold that.

The first time I went to hook up I was dressed in my narcish best. I got to his building and texted him.

‘Sube’ ( pronounced Sue-beh)

Huh? I texted my wife, who speaks Spanish, and she translates it as increase. Huh?

‘Hola amigo… yo no hablo mucho Espagnol… Que es sube?’

‘Come up’


So I do. Up I go. The lights don’t work, the building’s dark, getting slightly nervous now. I climb the stairs, one flight, two… There’s a door that’s partially open and light is spilling out into the musty and dark stairwell. I walk towards it like a man in a desert drawn to an oasis.

I reach the door and behind it is the aforementioned Moroccan. We greet each other and he asks me a question, which I don’t understand due to my aforementioned lack of Spanish. He pushes past me and closes the door. Not sure if that was a glare or if he just always looks pissed off. He asks me how much I want. I understood something!!! I tell him how much.

And then he pulls out a knife. As in a knife the size of which would probably be appropriate to pull out after saying ‘you call that a knife?’you call that a knife He turns on the gas stove and starts heating it up. Did I mention that I was nervous? Well at this point I was slightly more so.

It was at that point that I noticed that the thing on the kitchen counter wasn’t a chopping board but rather it was big block of hash. And that was when the scary Moroccan took the now well heated scary knife and chopped off a chunk for me. Didn’t even weigh it. I wasn’t going to ask him to either… He did have a knife after all.

And so I went home, no longer nervous, but excited. Something of a spring in my step you might say.

And that’s where I’m going to end, with the thought that no matter where you are, when you hook up for the first time after any significant absence, it immediately puts a spring in your step, a bit of zest to your life, and that alone will always take me back. It will always take me back to rain drenched, hot sunny, evaporating steamy streets of Jozies. Spring stepping from the hook up to the smoke up in one of the many different places that I loved to smoke at around that bitter-sweet city


How the internet stole my brain innocence.

Here. some quality writing from one of the original Blunt Smoker’s Guides:


The OG Roach Booze

AKA Ford Prefect

AKA Mr. Brady

AKA dirtchild

AKA The Siff


Garrick ‘MuvvaFucking’ Hennessey

Parental guidance is advised.

Looking forward to the guest blog coming Nov 22nd, 2013 (cause Friday is Highday, stay tuned. Word.

With no further delay – laugh your ass off and roll on the floor laughing or some shit.

How the internet stole my brain innocence..

“I don’t know where we lost it. When we were growing up, we didn’t celebrate people we called gangsters – people who made their money from stealing cars and stuff like that. People used to treat them with disdain, but these days, as long as you drive a good car, we treat you with respect.”

~ Thuli Madonsela, Public Protector, Sunday Times

i heard it with my eyes

The Blunt Smoker’s Guide To Plasticity

The Blunt Smoker’s Guide: In conversation and in conversation with Plastician

– Leroy Brown


  • Capable of molding or of giving form or fashion to a mass of matter; having power to mold.
  • Capable of receiving and of responding to environmental impulses which induce more or less rapid evolution of an organism as a whole or of certain of its organs: the opposite of conservative and persistent.
  • Capable of being influenced or formed

“Just be yourself. ”   Plastician

“Just do you.”   @m18j92t

Life happens in a funny way. On a Saturday, about two weeks ago I’m rollin through the streets of Braamfontein with Imali. We were walking up the street about to hit the corner between that haunted hippie van that sells dead peoples clothes and Kitchener’s’ daytime door, when I bumped into a young connect whose name at the time I was completely incapable of recalling. I had met him at an Alex Theatre gig about two weeks prior. Brief niceties and the rapid recollection of a sequence of seemingly lost events aside [we had had a good time #blazemob], this young connect reminded me that he worked for LiveZA. I should have realised this because he was out promoting #FutureMusic Rising and had a gang of flyers in his hand. I was in the mood of promoting this wordpress so I told him about it and he offered to put me in touch with his network [BIG UPS HOMIE]. We swopped numbers, Imali and I offered to help spread some of the flyers and we went our separate ways.

About a week later the event organisers release the line-up and I discover that I’d like to interview some of the artists publicised to perform, so I bell a brother. True to his word he promises to put me on and he does [along with Raytheism – Brother from another Mother].

On the night, complications begin to arise. There were issues with cellphone coverage; so calls aren’t being connected. Calls are being missed due to let loose beats being banged at loud volumes on Friday night soundsystems. This, however, did not deter me from reaching my goal to interview the international act playing. So I linger around

Skelemton's Closet

Skelemton’s Closet

enjoying the party with my good friend the Raving Lunatic. At one stage of the evening, around about the strike of the dark side of noon, we were downstairs in the basement having a young #blazemob with Skeletor’s nephew: Skelemton

I just so happen to step out the sparsely furnished closet where the organisers apparently thought it was a good place to keep their skelemtons, who do not sit down. “What about the Skelemton’s guests” I thought, “at least they should get seats.”

Alas no. Maybe they thought that we would all just kneel like the fans Kanye West invited to attend his North America tour.

YEEZUZ: tour poster

YEEZUZ: tour poster

So right there I bump into Chris, politely greeting him as he passes. Later, after the smoked salad starter, we float up to the main stage at about the same rate as the rising smoke let out of the hotbox in Skelemton’s closet. As luck would have it I roll up right next to Chris like reefer inna Redman blunt. He seemed to be enjoying the sounds of some home-grown talent which, now that I think about it, was strange ‘cause I remember that show. I got bored, bored beyond REASON, left to go toke one and came back just in time to speak to MPH and see Plastician start his set. Taking this as the knock from that visitor you parents always reminded you one day would come by, I ask, “Hey Chris, would you mind if I had a couple of minutes of your time after the set to ask you a few questions for my young publication?”  to which he willingly obliged. That time I’m like ‘whoo hoo’ in my head. Score! So now I’m killing time lounging around, bunnin a ting or two and jamming as the man formerly known as PlasticMan threw down the #FutureMusic headlining set.



The set was POWER and was thoroughly injoyed; as was the young jam with H-Bomb who I hadn’t seen in a minute. After the set I had to dodge a few heavily set men incredibly dedicated to going home [or kicking everybody out] to get back into the backstage area as I had neither an artist, nor a press pass.

Down some stairs, round a corner, eish. Door’s locked.

Back the other way, up some stairs, down some stairs, through another club and into the backstage of that club. This is the part where the bouncer realised I didn’t have a tag for that party and tried to stop me from getting to my goal. Not a chance. I gave him the good ole,

 “I can’t hear you over the music so I’m just gonna mouth something that looks like I’m saying ‘It’s alright, I’m supposed to be here. You can trust me to go back stage.’ and point at the useless tag on my arm.”

This is usually a sure fire way into the guarded entrance of almost any establishment. Up the stairs past the now infamously toked out closet, up some more stairs, right back to where I was supposed to be. Success.

I walk up to the DJ stage and find the Plastician involved in a conversation with parts of the organising team talking about how lots of the artists that he knows are mad OCD about they weed situations. I walk into the conversation when he’s like, “… if they get off the plane, and you don’t have no weed for them; they won’t go anywhere. Nowhere! You gotta go straight from the airport to the dealer. No question.” says the Plastician. So I interject conveniently, “Yo, Chris. You smoke weed man?”

“Yeah, not all the time like but I do on occasion. Even with my wife, in fact I spoke to her on skype from the hotel and was (pulls a face clearly meant to convey goof’dedness).”



Letting in that visitor I referred to earlier in this piece I ask, “You wanna get high man?”.

“What, right here? You sure?” asks uncertainly looking around and seeing more of them heavyset types I just dodged to get this interview. Now… I’m the Blunt Smoker’s Guide right? So I’m all like, “Nah stress man, I know a place. We can bun one back in one of the closet’s downstairs. Safe. “

“Yeah, cool then” he says as he’s packing up the last of his gear, “I’ll meet you down there.”

“Sweet, Imma go and skin this spliff up solid like. Seen?”

A couple of minutes later  I’m in the closet next to the Plastician’s putting the final touches on another exceptionally rolled reefer, when both the Plastician and the Raving Lunatic arrive. Finally I get to have the interview I’ve been chasing for the past week. Blunt ready, we sing the Jefferson’s intro as we relocate to the Main Act’s closet. We sit down (yes, the international’s closet had chairs), spark up da spliff and start talking about his experiences in the country so far. How he went on a tour to Vilikazi Street (looking at how the African’s live) and saw the township from a tourist point of view. Personally, if I was invited to a new country and all I got was the tourist view, I’d feel Iike a transaction rather than an invited guest. Couple of rotations on the blunt later and the interview went a little something like thiiis:

plastic vibes

plastic vibes

The Blunt Smoker’s Guide:

Yo, uh, Chris. The visuals that played during your set were pretty intense.


I could kinda feel the vibes behind me.


Did you design them or get someone to design them? In short, where did they come from?


You know, I have no idea. I had nothing to do with it. That’s South African talent?



[The reason I asked this question and responded with the afore-mentioned “WOW!” is because the visuals playing were fucking intense. It was all like reptilian eyes, sharp teeth, writhing tongues. Animated of course, but that also gives it a surreal, almost dreamlike or nightmarish effect, if you know what I mean. Particularly if one has indulged in some Wobs or other party enhancer].

future wtf?

future wtf?


Based on what I’ve gathered from the young investigation I managed to run on you before this interview, you strike me as a person that really enjoys the music they play and sharing it. What was the highlight of your set and did you play any songs that we should know about?




It’s funny actually. I’ve been listening to a lot of Kwaito while I been out here to try and kinda like, find out what’s in the ear out here. There’s this guy, INK, from Glasgow. He mainly produces Grime but some of his stuff has kinda got that beat…


That percussion?


Yeah! The percussion, exactly. I thought that it would go down well and it did. It was that point, that one point where everybody started to pick up a bit yeah. [And] Then towards the end, the really fast kinda, footworky stuff; that went down pretty well. Mark Pritchard, Joker [inaudible]


Since you started producing and playing you have been pushing music that pretty much hadn’t been heard before. Now you are doing the same thing both in terms of the music you are playing and making. What keeps you motivated?


I love new music. I love hearing something I’ve never heard before. That is what keeps me motivated. Log onto my SNDCLD, check out the people I follow. People pass me stuff I’ve never heard before . Discovering new artists, new music. That keeps me going man.


Who have you discovered lately that you dig?


Wow man. This year has been mad. I think, if you listen to my radio show this year, and you look at the tracks I’m playing, even when I look … I did a track list this week [for the first time] … I’m looking at it and it was like … some of the artists on there, a year ago, no-one would’ve known who these people are. And even now I think not many people would know who they are. To me, I’m like, these guys have come and sent me a track. Imma play it. Over the years it’s been more about good music than names. If I find something I like, Imma play it. I think that’s the future.


Have you been seeing more international collaborations and cross over acts in terms of genre? Coming from where?


I’m down to collaborate anywhere. I’ve been collaborating with some guys from the states, they’ve been sending me some of their music. Even coming here today, hearing some of the South African music. I’m going down to Cape Town playing again (hyperlink the assembly); I’ll listen to some dub on the way down, on the flight. I’ll check out some YouTube, just checking out what you guys done and what everybody’s been doing, you know, immersing myself in it.


Had you heard of any SA acts before you came down here?


No. I mean I met Das Kapital at Rinse FM not long ago. Met him briefly, checked him out on SNCLD; but apart from him … not really. You know, being out here has been an eye and an ear opener for me.


I’ve been picking up a lot of Trap and Dubstep getting played and gaining traction here, crossing a lot of musical boundaries. A new generation of emcees are even dabbling, rapping over the kind of beats more usually associated with the EDM side of music. Can you perhaps tell us why Grime rappers are so angry all the time?


Don't Fuck With Me!

Don’t Fuck With Me!

 [Laughs] I don’t know man. I think it’s that old rogue mentality. Like, even when they are earning MAAAD dough, they still need to have that anger. I think a lot of them feel they have to be angry. I remember starting being a producer a lot of Grime artists were spitting over my track. I was just cool with it all. You did meet people who kinda had that ‘Don’t Fuck with Me!’ attitude. It stuck yeah. It stuck. Some of the kids making Grime now are geeks but they still got the attitude. I don’t know. I don’t know…


Where is your music going? Where are you taking music to?


At the moment I’m enjoying exploring all these different sounds and tempos. It’s more about the vibe for me now. It don’t need to be a specific genre. It doesn’t need to be instrumental or anything you know. If I like it Imma find a way to make it work so … That’s more where I am at the moment just finding it. Find a way to melt all this music that I like into one without just being that guy that only plays one genre. I don’t wanna be that guy. I just wanna showcase all this different shit that I like and show it to lots of different people. I think tonight went well like that. I started out a 120BPM, by the end of it, it was like 180BPM and people were there you know. Kind of like interested to see what was coming next you know.


If you were to advise ay cats coming up in the game, how would you? I mean what would you say to them?


Just be yourself. Play what you enjoy and don’t read the comments on the internet. You don’t need that. You don’t need that. That is it.


Thank you very much


Thank you.

Raving Lunatic:

Wait, hold up. I got one more question. What was the livest performer you’ve seen this year?


Livest? You mean like lively?


Yeah, mean besides Kanye… you know YEEZUZ he’s got Mt. Yeezuz and his own personal white Jesus


Live performer? Good question. The livest performance would have been this band from the U.K., the Gentleman’s Dub Club. There’s like 8 guys performing, all playing instruments. Those guys, their energy is something special. The Gentleman’s Dub Club, yeah. Check them out.


Thanks man.


Cool bruv.






Kanye poster:

The Blunt Smoker’s Guide To Voting


The Blunt Smoker’s Guide to Voting

–           words by Leroy Brown

Where we've come from

Where we’ve come from.


I went to go register to vote today. I went neither because of all the damn sms’s Helen Zille has been sending. Damn! How did she get my number? I must’ve been at that political rally I stumbled onto after a wake ‘n bake that I thought was a South African version of a bloco party for pale, pink smurfs with no drums and samba; just placards, fake smiles, and wrinkles about the mouth, gravity assisted, tending towards the sad side.

[Note to self: Mixing politricks and booze will undoubtedly leave a taste in one’s mouth far worse than that left by the imbalanced mix of reefer and booze.]

Nor did I go because of the DA signs, around the residential area I am currently inhabiting, that boldly assert, “Vote to Win”. Vote to win what? A cellphone? A car? A hamper full of DA merch? Must I still send some detail to a phone number at a rate of 2.50 Mandela’s per sms?

I went because I saw an IEC banner that read ‘Register to vote’. Not ‘register to vote for’…anything, just ‘Register to vote’. The impartiality of the banner led me to consider voting in a context separate from the one that includes the mine-filled football field of Politricks.

Eventually it was the understanding that I am responsible for my own experience.

So I walk into the main hall of a primary somewhere around a hundred years old and see 3 immediately identifiable people. This looked as if it adequately represented the political landscape prior to the expulsion of Unkel Baby Juju from the comradely inner circle of the chief crew.

That’s to say, there were party representatives from the ANC and the DA, and also an IEC official. I go about my business and decide to leave. Walking out the hall, I tripped up on the incredible amount of dryness that had, without invitation, chosen to squat between the top of the inside of mouth, my tongue and lips. So I take a left turn instead of a right turn handle some other biz and walk back in having become aware of a question in my head that I desired answered.

Walking back into the hall I see only one rep still left in the hall. The ANC representative had clearly gone out for lunch, or taken a tea break; so instead I approached the DA party representative and asked him if he had a party that day. Just kidding. We began to speak and this is what I learned. The DA has been owning centurion since before, before. Speaking to the DA representative I asked if he had voted the past three times.

I had walked to the bathroom to relieve myself of the droogies and to relieve myself when I passed the pictures of Mandela in the middle, Mbeki on the right and JZ on the left when it occurred to me just how young a nation we are. He, almost gently, reminded me that he had been voting for a lot longer than that. “Of course he had,” I thought to myself, “he’s white, on the upper end of middle aged, and volunteering his time as a DA Party Representative at voter registration”. It turns out though, that he’s not really into politics. He was only there because his girlfriend works for the city council, and she roped him into “volunteering” as they were short-staffed to “REPRESENT” at all the voting stations; of which there were fewer than ten. The ANC was the only other party that even tried to rep in this neck of the Centurion woods. He told me that he’s an accountant and tries his hardest to not be involved with politics. So I ask him, “Doesn’t it then kinda just jump you? Surprise you unexpectedly?”
“Ja,” he replies, “when you open the papers and you get pissed off.”
And I was like “Wow!”, because that suddenly struck me as an experience that many people have, it felt that way at least.
Then I remember a post I saw on Facebook from an age peer saying that they were disheartened by the way things are and in protest she had decided to not vote in the coming election and hashtagged #spoiltballot. These are two of the apparently 3 types of members of society when it comes to voting, the other being the registered voting voter. Some registered voting voters, I have noticed, vote based on neither observation in terms of performance against ones expectations, nor the party’s manifesto (the story they sell you and you buy with  your vote) choosing to rather vote based on what they think/hope the party has committed to in its manifesto and with its proposed policy plans. What is irresponsible of this type of voting group is that some of them give power to whoever and leave them unaccountable for failing to meet performance minimum standards (#OpenToilet).

Democracy only works for the irresponsible people who are in power, never for the people who vote like they are going through a McDonalds drive-thru, receive a shitty burger, pay for it, eat it. All the while knowing that its a funky burger and they have the option to refuse to accept it; but would rather wait until they get sick and then complain to someone who can’t do anything about it. Refraining from voting is also not only irresponsible, but disempowering too. All (wo & )men are created equal. If one believes this then it democracy is a good option.

See we’ve all decided that we’d rather work for money to buy a comfortable life. And since we’re so busy all the time working for money we have entrusted someone other than ourselves to manage the things that actually make for a comfortable living like access to water, health care, food security. These people we have decided to call the government.

Where we've been.

Where we’ve been.


We have also agreed that because we all have equal rights we can all vote (this has only been the case for one year short of twenty). To refrain from voting is to say do whatever with the rights I have been privileged to have merely by virtue of being born: the rights to health, life, clean water, and air, and food, freedom of movement and of choice.
Spoilt ballots are discarded, so deliberately spoiling a ballot is to disrespect energy and misses the point.

Democracy works better for more people when informed responsible active citizens participate. It works best for informed active registered voting voters when no one else votes.

Choose to act in accordance with your intention. If your intention is to complain about the state of the nation, to complain that the money you pay in taxes is not being used the way you’d like it: then act in such a way that ensures you will experience that. If your intention is to live in a better world than the one you were born into, then act in accordance with that.
Voting is an action. There is no such thing as inaction. Even refraining from acting is to act in a certain way and every action has a consequence.

To vote or to vote.

Final thought,

Or EFF off!

Follow on twitter: @youngblklight



1994 Ballot paper:

2009 Ballot paper:

Via interweb vibration.

The Blunt Smoker’s Guide To: Finding Balance While Drinking In InnerSpace @ Satori’s SpaceBar

Finding Balance While Drinking In InnerSpace [Satori’s Space/Bar]

~ words by Leroy Brown


Satori (悟り) (ChinesepinyinKorean: 오 oVietnamesengộ) is a Japanese Buddhist term for awakening, “comprehension; understanding”. It is derived from the verb satoru.[1]

In the Zen Buddhist tradition, satori refers to the experience of kenshō,[2] “seeing into one’s true nature“. Ken means “seeing,” shōmeans “nature” or “essence.”[2]

Satori and kenshō are commonly translated as enlightenment, a word that is also used to translate bodhiprajna and buddhahood.

 ~ excerpt quoted from Wiki


The Blunt Smoker’s Guide:

Highlighted by the Red Bull Music Academy [RBMA] as a fearless new talent you were on the opening bill and brought the house down at the first ever RedBull Bass Camp in the spanking new venue under the Alex theatre ‘AND [&]’. How did you get involved with the Bass Camp and what was that gig like for you?



Hehehe. Sounds like some super hero stuff. The bass camp was a life changing experience. Big up to richard and ivan and all the red bull cats for inviting such luminaries in the field. i guess its cheesy sounding but all of it was dope – the studio sessions, the talks the gigs….



You have your own event that you throwdown called SPACE/BAR, which is exactly what The Blunt Smoker’s Guide is into.  Sounds like futuristic debauchery in zero gravity. What’s that all about? | How often does it happen?| What can people expect?


Well space bar happens one Wednesday of the month at Kitchener’s in Braam, Friday the 8th of November being the exception … L.O.L, I like how you described it. It’s kinda like that yes… it’s about space sounds. Space in the sense of no frontiers, no boundaries – we push dubbish sounds coz dub music allows for that space of interpretation… it’s not about rigidity it’s about fluidity…. we are anti-boxes we don’t play one type of music we play anything new coz we about being fresh, being street . We are young Afrikans and our scene reflects who we are. We about the now … I play the music my friends make, so we building an audience for our sound, our art. It’s a community of like minds. a collective outfit of fire-starters, djs, producers, visual cats, performance artists…. if you about good vibes Space/Bar is for you… we about fun, we about a good times; but also serious shit. It’s not like you can ignore the world you live in..We make our art in context so that’s: love pain tears hustle sex drugs. ALLES!



You are also a producer, are you working on anything at the moment?


Ja cool shit. I am doing loads of remix remixes for the brother moves on and 90’s kwaito outfit Jacknife to name a few… I am also working on some hip hop tracks, some dub stuff… I’m recording things with a gang of people…  I’m just gonna see what comes of all of it… all cool projects in the pipework but its only something if it happens so I don’t wanna talk too much till I’m actually done otherwise I get lazy [and/or] distracted.



What fresh, hot, space-age riddims are you currently bumping in ‘pon ya personal rotation?


I’m bumpin BFG [Big Fukn Gun], I’m bumping DJ Steph. I bump a lot of the Unit 137 stuff… My shit…. I push my music and my homies stuff. I’m also feeling the Durban and PTA production… there’s soooo much nice shit around….


A lot of promos – from the DnB cats like Marcus Visionary.


And then my homies… there’s too much hot shit around… and for a DJ, the fresher the better.  I’m anti same sets all the time and radio music. I’m done with that! And I’m done with the 90’s! We can reference that shit but playing it all the time???? Nah man, I’m tired.



What does SATORI mean and where can people follow you and hear your sounds?


Satori means balance. Coz I’m mostly wild, crazy. Its kinda that space where I get the balance, in music… Music is helping me getting closer to myself… coz each thing I do I peel away a layer of lies and shit…I get stripped down to come up. So satori is that ideal state… a continual state… people can check me out on SNDCLD  and FB/SatoriDub and twitter: @iamsatori .




Thanks Satori. That was real nice. It’s dope hearing what peeps are doing in their own words, and like beats, you seem to have a way with them. Awe_H!


Cool man. Thanks. It’s weird and cool to talk about the shit you doing. Kinda puts shit in focus; so I gained a lot as well.



follow me on twitter @youngblklight





Satori –