Escaping the American Dream
Johannesburg, South Africa - Feb 2020
“My bru, you are staying deep in the hood,” says my buddy Craigers as he picks me up for lunch.
I have found a sky rise apartment for $20 per night in the center of Johannesburg, South Africa. This central business area is called Braamfontein. It’s struggled immensely with crime thru the years, but now is somewhere on the spectrum of safe as long as you keep your wits about you.
Joburg
The air smells of glorious skunky weed, meat on the grill, car exhaust and big city sewers. There is a mini makeshift cigarette party starting up in front of a used leather shop called “Reject King.” A few handsome dudes are swooning at the beautiful Zulu girls they are chatting up, attempting to get their phone numbers.
Under my apartment is a crusty convenience store, where a small circle of homeless dudes congregate to shoot the shit as they pass a liter of local beer. The city sidewalks are buzzing in all kinds of ways.
I’m in a fuzzy haze from a poor nights sleep. I can feel my brain starting to attack my self esteem, so I strap on the worn-out Nikes and go for a jog in Johannesburg.
I’m sidestepping mammoth pot holes, broken-off rusty metal poles in the ground, and garbage fires on the sidewalk. Running around amidst the faded brown, decaying 50’s architecture feels surreal. The hand painted signage is worn as the text hangs on for dear life. The city has somewhat of a Mad Max meets Max Payne kind of feel to it. It’s a surreal scene and I’ll never forget it.
In Joburg. photo - hanro havenga
There are plenty of streets you would never want to jog down in this city. I cross the bridge over the train tracks and feel a bit uneasy as the crowd disappears.
A few hustlers whistle at me in an attempt to engage a sale, but for the most part everyone could care less that I’m there. That’s one of the most beautiful things about this country: people don’t hassle you, yet, if you want to engage them they are so happy to chat.
In Joburg. Photo- Hanro Havenga
“What’s up my bru!” says the security guard as I jog by. He gives me a high five as I jog thru the dried meat market. The jolliness of the people never stops blowing my mind.
Tonight I play the final show of the South Africa tour at a place called “Hells Kitchen,” an indie stronghold in the city. The online response has been good, so I’m banking on this being a solid show.
During soundcheck, I smash my head on a fire extinguisher and feel pretty loopy. Thus, I decide to neutralize my weird trauma buzz with a large beer. I was strangely buzzed (in a bad way) when the show started, but the rooms energy snapped me back into place. The venue is full of old friends and also tons of people I’d never seen before, which is always a good sign.
There are two 15 year old kids in the front row yelling out song requests. Somehow they know most of the catalog. It’s so invigorating when young people rock up to the shows. They can be a tough crowd to impress, so it’s a big motivator when they get behind this project. That was the highlight of the night for me. A few legends in the SA Alternative scene have come to the show; Jay Bones from Fuzigish and Alastair from Shortstraw. (I actually ran into them randomly on a Tokyo sidewalk last October.) The 15-year-old kids CANNOT BELIEVE they get to meet Jay and Alastair.
I take a set break to regroup. The CDs sold out, which gives me hope that people still play albums here. I get song requests for really old songs from 2012...songs no other country in the world knows much about. I’ve been coming here a long time and today it feels like the years of grinding the road are paying off.
Joburg. photo - hanro havenga
It will be a heartbreaker to leave here. People are a product of their environment and the slower pace of life here makes it far more healthy in my brain. I’m always less anxious and less weird here. Tomorrow I will go home and put in 10-hour-days to prep for tour. I love all that stuff greatly but I’ll never feel at peace like I do here in SA.
That’s the beauty of America. It’s a pressure-cooker that forces you to either become a lump of coal or a diamond.
America is uncomfortable and challenging and exciting. Someone is always doing better than you and that’s good. You must raise your game. You must work your butt off but then make sure to take a break. If there’s no leisure at the end of the tunnel, what is there?
The hamster wheel is great exercise and we need exercise to fully live. But there is no leisure on the hamster wheel. No green room. No couch to recharge the batteries.
Gimme a hamster wheel. But gimme a shoebox and a little metal water bottle too.
South Africa is my happy place that reminds me work is not everything. Without it, work would bludgeon me into a hollowed soul. It’s a tale as old as time. I believe they call that tale the American Dream.
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TELL A FRIEND:
Forward this or text the album link to a friend who's taste in music isn't totally shot ;) Or send them an album.
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