I wrote this during layovers between Toronto and London, on my way to Amsterdam for the summer. Before I start my next voyage, I wanted to offer my musical reflections on South Africa. Three days ago (April 27, 2014), South Africa's democracy turned 20 years old. I spent much of December and January in South Africa, thanks to the support of my community of listeners, family and friends and a generous grant from The Astraea Foundation Global Arts Fund. This was my third time in South Africa; the first trip happened in 2001 and the second in 2011. The purpose of the trip was to complete the SoundTracking Our Lives Tour, a project that simulated the migration pattern of house music from the U.S. to South Africa, launching in New York, traveling to Chicago and Detroit, and finally, concluding in Johannesburg. The purpose of the tour was to document the work of women who have played a role in the evolution of house and its transmigration, and are currently active in its development. My mission was accomplished. But what I realized almost instantly was since my last trip to South Africa I have developed a new vocabulary, a new understanding of the development of house music. I have been deepening my relationship with its influences, everything from traditional African drumming, to Philly soul, to the tambourines and choral clap rhythms of gospel. Clark Sisters, stand up. A few days before my landing in Jo'burg, Nelson Mandela made his physical transition. Accordingly, the energy on the streets reflected not only the sadness of his passing, but also the presence of many questions, particularly the politically and socially charged question of ‘progress’ since democracy. One thing that was extremely clear to me was the intricate ways that the apartheid regime institutionalized longstanding practices that until this day uphold the brutal inequalities that exists between Black and White South Africans and shamelessly so. Adrienne Maree Brown, my lover and trip companion, writes about the experience in more subtle detail here: http://adriennemareebrown.net/blog/2014/02/14/reflections-on-south-africa-part-2/ Still, even with the uncertainty that Mandela’s death brings, house music continues to dominant the sound of the nation. But there was a difference this time, between the house music I heard on the radio and the house music I heard on my taxi rides through the city, or in the cars passing me by on the streets. I had to admit that much of the house I heard on the radio was formulaic (a hard distinction to make with a genre of music based on repetition), and had blown up to “pop” status, losing some of its dark funk. As an outsider I can never really be sure about the politics of commercial vs. underground culture, the music industry, globally, is such a tricky beast. But I do know for sure that I felt less moved by what was most popular, most available. This is why it’s always good, as a global citizen, to seek out the underground community wherever you land. Find those cats you would roll with in your circle at home. The cats who avoid radio as much as possible and keep their ears to the street in search of that very specific sound; you simply know it when you hear it and it can be heard in so many different forms of music, in so many different places on the planet, all we know is that it’s a sound that unites us all. By the end of the trip I had collected around 100 songs from record labels (Soul Candi), DJs, producers and general house heads. Turns out that the majority of the music I was given did little in the way of touching that little thing inside of me that inspires movement and sets the stage for the perfect mix. I narrowed down my compilation to 17 songs and some of them were tunes I had been listening to for the past year leading up to my trip. Upon returning from South Africa, I spent the winter in Detroit with my honey and during that time I set up my turntables, along with my art. I rooted mys(continued)