Heads Down: Shangaan Electro Hit the UK

Bit of a weird one, but bear with us: how fast do you like to dance? Do you prefer that top end-of-night disco shuffle at 115 beats per minute, or are you more comfortable with the rather en vogue house chug of 120bpm? Perhaps you prefer things at the classic, rave-ready 128, or skirting dubstep’s template of 140 – but, to misquote Doc Brown, how do you feel about gunning it up to 188?

Shangaan, a traditional South African genre, was – if legend is to be believed – reinvented in 2005 by a man from the province of Limpopo, who goes by the name of Dog (or, Richard 'Nozinja' Mthethwa). Taking the style’s structure and adding gleefully sugary MIDI keyboards and mind-bending vocal samples reminiscent of UK hardcore, this fresher version’s hallmark is the difficult but playful drum patterning that energises local dancers in Shangaan’s home streets.

In July, Dog brings his homegrown phenomenon to the UK for a summer tour, showcasing some of the scene’s most influential acts, as well as Shangaan dancers, who aim to aid what may be nervous British feet in getting into the music’s fractured groove. The last time Dog was in the UK, he was collaborating with Damon Albarn (but of course), a huge fan who helped to organise the release of a Shangaan primer compilation on his label, Honest Jon’s, in 2010. Over Skype, Dog tells us that he has “many exciting new styles” to demonstrate on the tour, though when asked if he’s happy with the way his style of Shangaan has developed, he muses, “yes and no.”

“I don’t like that the younger musicians don’t sing in the traditional style that Shangaan is meant to be sung,” he explains, revealing a surprisingly traditionalist bent for a man whose musical teaching seems so intent on madness. “But,” he adds, with characteristic optimism, “it shows that Shangaan is a proper musical style now – people take it seriously as with other genres.”

So far, Shangaan has toured cutting-edge festivals such as Barcelona’s Sónar and Roskilde in Denmark with much success – but what does Dog feel the music possesses that western dance culture perhaps lacks? “Africans say it’s the combination of three things,” he supposes. “The unique sound, the dance – the speed! – and the vibrant part of the dance style, a lot of people miss that... They’ve never seen people dance at that speed for an hour, non-stop. That’s the reason the world has been watching us.”

Dog will be teaching a few moves himself on tour, but will also be joined by the faintly terrifying looking Tshetsha Boys, two high-spirited dancers in clown masks who Dog reckons are designed to “appeal to the kids” – saying much for the bravery, not to mention athleticism of South Africa’s youth. “The workshops allow people to feel the spirit we are feeling,” Dog explains.

At its peak, Shangaan was shifting around 50,000 units a year, and Dog says he’ll also be bringing some unique Shangaan merchandise along to the UK “that we’ll be able to wear at home as we dance to Shangaan.” A cultural innovator, Dog is no less a great salesman, too.

Readers may wonder if Dog’s carefree cottage industry has any sort of political discourse in relation to government and governance within South Africa, or whether his endeavours are simply about freedom of the body and expression. “Shangaan is too small for politics,” he claims, neatly. “Politicians are ruthless, it’s not something I could imagine myself in. If you want stress, join politics... If you want to enjoy yourselves, join Shangaan.”