Recently, Ibiza was graced with a newcomer to one of its many stages. Normally, this would be nothing out of the ordinary, with international young talent coming in and out, debuting at one of the many clubs on the island just about every day. However, when Black Coffee showed up this Monday for Circoloco at DC-10, things were hardly ordinary, and Ibiza might not ever be the same again.
Hailing from South Africa, Black Coffee (real name Nkosinathi Maphumulo) has been breaking beyond of the borders of his home country much more often recently, touring to spots like Lyon, Paris, London and New York. Though one look at the history of this reserved and relaxed yet bold artist reveals that this was very likely always going to be the case.
After being selected to participate in the 2003 Cape Town Red Bull Academy, his sound was first exposed to the world, and consequently, he was exposed to it, forcing him to not only figure out what he wanted out of his musical career (to be the biggest DJ and producer in South Africa), but to start approaching music in a global manner, both of which he’s accomplished in the decade that since passed. Though for a man whose broken the world record, DJing for 60 hours straight in order to raise money and awareness for his foundation, www.djblackcoffee.org, which goes to help the disabled poor (Coffee’s own left arm is paralyzed), nothing seems impossible or out of reach. So when we heard the massive South African export was going to be playing one of the best underground parties and clubs in the world, we knew there was no better place to be in order to find out just what Black Coffee was all about.
Coffee was due up at 8:30pm, just after an extended set by Visionquest member Ryan Crosson, who was pushing out funky, laid back house, tinged with filtered disco melodies, getting the crowd’s hands up drop after drop. The ever-filling terrace was in the perfect mindset for Coffee to take the decks, Ibiza sunset casting a gentle glow over the room. About 15 minutes before his set came to a close, Coffee suddenly appeared on stage behind Crosson, checking things out, getting a feel for the place and chatting with the sound technician. Crosson headed into deeper, tech driven territory in the moments before it was finally time for what could possibly have been the first South African to take the helm at DC-10. Uncharted territory…yes.
It only took a few tracks for everyone to slip deep into Coffee’s groove. So unique and refreshing, his stomping, percussive house has something for everyone. Rough and tough, with upfront rhythms that keep you dancing, layered with sexy, smooth, uplifting melodies usually strummed out by a guitar or wafted out through a sax.
By about 9pm, it seemed it was time to turn the mojo up a few notches, as the music suddenly got quiet, and an incredibly deep and sensual female cover of Daft Punk’s ‘Get Lucky’ purred out of DC-10’s newly revamped system. It was such a different sound; I hardly recognized the now iconic 2013 anthem. Of course, it broke down into more heavily percussive stomping house, dissolving any sense of commercialism that may have lingered, though judging by the crowd’s immediate positive response to the track, none did.
From there, it was on to a slew of perfectly timed samples, mixed back and forth with ancient African tribal songs and percussions. Coffee kept us on our toes, with swooping cuts to total silence, then echoing, thunderous builds, cascading back into smooth guitar melodies. But he wasn’t done with us yet, by a long shot – dropping one of the most perfectly timed samples of Michael Jackson’s ‘Thriller,’ I’ve ever heard, with only the melody gently creeping up through heavy rhythms, that famous laugh echoing out of every direction. From there it was on to a remix of Dennis Ferrer’s ‘Hey Hey,’ Coffee’s cooler than cool stage presence, shoulders rocking forward, head bobbing in constant time with the rhythm, in total control. An effortlessly hypnotic gesture to match his musical style, keeping everyone at ease.
At one point, after sucking all the volume out of the room, leaving us hanging on the edge, with a click and a gunshot bang, we were back into things, sampling none other than ‘Gangam Style’ between shots and stomps. And with every shot, Coffee cocked his hand into a gun, shooting in time, which had everyone in utter disbelief and awe, imitating the motion with elation.
Heading into decidedly tribal percussion territory at around 9:30, Coffee was eliciting screams from all, slowly fading into dubbed out, bass territory, just how DC-10 likes it. Finishing his set at 10pm with a sexy sax, guitar laden track breaking into an a capella beckoning everyone to ‘put your hands up’ over dreamy melodies, the crowd happily obliging, the dark red walls of DC looked brighter, a glow seeming to form around the booth, turning the gritty, nightclub feel of the place into a wild, dancehall like atmosphere.
And though, at least at Circoloco, Black Coffee hardly cracked a smile, instead looking directly into the crowd, into club goer’s eyes, keenly watching, you never once questioned his enjoyment in doing what he does, instead developing a relationship based purely musical understanding. As cliché as that might sound, maybe the energy building with house music in South Africa is what a place like Ibiza needs to return to the days when a statement like that didn’t sound cliché, but was understood as gospel.
