What was a scorching summer day just a few hours ago has quickly given way to gloomy clouds and the steady splash of rain on the roofed enclosure. Opposite me is Anatii, who greets my sister and me on the terrace of her residence in Benmore, Johannesburg.
The last time I was in this house, in 2018, was just days before he released his critically acclaimed second album, iyeza. Unbeknownst to me at the time, the album was not quite ready. It wasn’t until a day before launch that he submitted the final files, he recalls.
Anatii lights up a joint as he tells us the story behind iyezaThe uncertain and exciting launch week.
“I had the listening session that same Thursday and the original venue, which was an art gallery, had just turned its back on us at the last minute…. And then we had to go and do it in a place where we had just filmed one of the scenes to ntloni. Everything was like boom, boom, boom, even when I was making the album, because it’s just a moment. Is a feeling; you have to capture a moment.”
You wouldn’t know it for the calm and control of Yeahwhamthat firmly established Anatii among the most talented artists of his generation, that he was created against the backdrop of such chaos.
Two months ago, the 30-year-old creative multi-screenwriter, born Anathi Bongo Mnyango, emerged from a musical hiatus with Amadlozihis first solo release since iyeza. When I ask him when Amadlozifeaturing LOOKATUPS, Anatii begins, “Amadlozi it was done in…” then he pauses. “Agitated, geez. I just held back from revealing when it was done,” she continues, laughing.
“This is crazy, I know it’s going to sound esoteric to readers, but we are already in the future. When you’re creating magic, and all these things out of nothing, you’re already in the future. As if the ancestors are giving you all kinds of gifts in the future.
“If I told you when the sound was made, you’d say, ‘What?’ It’s wild, but it’s also about the moment. The time was right. And I saw 11:11 for November 11 and I was like, ‘Okay, boom!’” Amadlozi it was released on November 11. Anatii is big in numbers. Earlier, after a few weeks of trying to arrange this interview (Anatii is notoriously reclusive), she requested that we meet at exactly 4:44 p.m.
He explains that his appreciation for numbers stems from a deep understanding, learning, writing, and a desire to understand how this universe works. “It’s all math, it’s all numbers, it’s all an equation, all this construction we’re in. In order for you to understand, not even the meaning of life, but the method of life and the way things work, there are always numbers involved. So I started paying attention to numbers and pattern recognition is a big thing. My memory is crazy, it’s photographic.”
This philosophy is also evident in his music.
“If someone comes back right now and looks at, say, the length of the tracks…” He pulls out his phone and goes into Spotify. The first song she watches is the iyeza introduction, Wena. It’s 4:20, he says, eliciting a laugh from my sister and me: in the jargon of cannabis culture, 4:20 represents the use of marijuana and hashish, and is also often associated with cannabis-related celebrations. On April 20. then look ntloniwhich is 3:33.
Numbers also influence the BPM at which you record your music. “I like to record some songs lately in ’93, and I was born in 1993. Also symmetry and things like that play a role and my way of seeing things. I wish there was a clearer explanation for it.”
That is quite clear.
In conversation, Anatii often takes long pauses, as if making sure to choose her words carefully and present her thoughts clearly. The word “like” works as a kind of filler when she can’t find the right words.
When we talk about her next album, Anatii speaks cautiously as she processes and decides how much to release in real time.
“I don’t know if this is crazy to reveal how long I’ve been listening to it…because then people will feel like maybe it’s…” he pauses. “Like he was old?” I offer. “Yes, but he is not old. I mean I’ve been listening to it for a few weeks, you know.”
So does that mean it’s done?
“Honestly, it’s never done. I’ve updated songs before, like the saga in Be careful what you wish for. The mix, the whole. So maybe it never gets done. Maybe I’ll just put out an album that I’ll keep updating.”
After a moment, he laughs, then adds, “Nah, I’m kidding. But on a really serious note, she’s there. I don’t know what other word would be for that. It’s more, like, not even figuring it out, but just establishing how people will receive it, that’s where we’re at. Like, how do you actually receive this medication? We have to find out the dosage.
Let’s go back to your album. I ask him if he feels pressure to replicate or exceed iyeza.
“I have songs that are in that atmosphere, that frequency, that vibe, but you can’t recreate it. It’s like why would I be there? I listen to people, I recognize them, it’s gratitude. The thing is having the ability to create magic, when I say magic I mean something out of nothing which is music, why would you want to keep doing the same tricks? Why wouldn’t you want to learn something new and keep expanding?
“And I am more interested in expansion. We need to keep unlocking our minds and our ears and our hearts and our spirit and our energy at the highest level so that we can really elevate ourselves in terms of our consciousness. And I’m not trying to be deep, but really. And we can still have fun while doing that.”
In December, Anatii headlined the first iteration of Cotton Fest Cape Town. As a longtime friend and collaborator of the late festival founder Riky Rick, it was a great moment for him.
“Powerful! It was just a magical moment. Riky’s spirit was there at the highest level. The whole space was sanctified in terms of no negative energy. Just beautiful people there to have an amazing time and enjoy and connect with others. artists.He maintained the integrity and legacy of someone like Riky.
“The fact that someone can experience moments like these and be immortalized through an event and they sell out, that’s intense. It was intense.”
With Anatii now putting on shows for what feels like the first time in a long time, I ask her if she’s done hibernating and if she’s completely “out” now.
“I mean hibernation seems pretty extreme because it’s not like it’s not doing anything,” he says, before pausing to reflect. “That’s really wild, the concept that if you stop using social media, people will think you’re not doing anything. That’s crazy. When you’re really busy, you don’t have time to say you’re busy.
“You know what I mean? I can’t stop the conversation right now and say, ‘Oh, sorry, I’m busy.’ No, I’m busy creating something, doing something, learning, healing, growing, evolving. So when I say that I’m back out there, I mean people will experience me in many different ways.”
A few weeks after we spoke, Anatii arranges a private listening session at Opera in Rosebank to listen to unreleased music. A few minutes before heading to the DJ booth, she stands alone anxiously, her eyes searching the crowd. Music executives from Universal Music, Sony Music and Africori, as well as industry friends like Sjava, Nomuzi Mabena, Moonchild Sanelly and Msaki, are scattered around this little restaurant eager to find out what he has up his sleeve.
Eventually, Anatii quietly heads to the decks and presses play. Down and behold! It is Anatii in Amapiano for the first time. Within moments, the cameras begin to flash and the bodies begin to dance. Behind the booth, Anatii smiles and shakes her head as an entourage of friends and collaborators gather around her. When I ask her when we can expect the new album, she gives me a wry smile and says, “Which one, the first one or the second one?”
