There’s something about Joburg.

I got dropped off outside a new apartment block in the thick-trafficked centre of the city with a suitcase full of unfolded clothes. Oppressive heat clung to the concrete on Jozi’s streets and walls like glistening skin about to be shed. The spoken-word event that I featured at was one of many lifted lids on the city’s artistic and cultural uprising. A truly unique brand of their own, a creative dilution of South African, African, and global signatures untainted by the copycatting of Western pop culture.

It seeps out of the content in their music and the way they carry local prints into modern fashion. The rooftop party we saw the weekend off with, and the reclamation of a city waiting to explode through art galleries and popup events in derelict spaces, give Jozi an irresistible allure for many artists. The diversity of music is vast and the hunger for the experimental is real.

Just the thought of where this generation of artists, filmmakers, fashionistas, and entrepreneurs is is exciting, let alone how much fun the journey will be over the next couple years.

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