It was after we’d seen Jack Parow perform at the Cresta Mall in bumsville, that I bunged on his new CD and banged it out as we rode home. There were three of us: Muzi, Rian Malan, and myself. We pulled out of the mall and the track ’Bloubek’ came on like James Hunt battling Niki Lauder with light-sabres and that knarly west-coast squishy synth hook tucking us all up. The stereo could not go any higher, the bass any lower and as I was driving the rental (no fucking clue) - the satnav took us through the low-rent suburb of Linden - a place time forgot. No electric fences, no new cars, just a throw back of a couple of decades. Passing by a country and western bar on Olifants Road with our sounds battling theirs, I realized that all aspects of South Africa were represented in that very car at that very moment. Old white young black immigrant, and all there for their respective talents. This is now.