While watching Radio Kalahari Orkes recently, I was struck by the style of the drummer. He was a large guy hunched over a tiny drum kit with a huge grin emerging from under his baseball cap. He possessed the ability both to whack the skins with extreme power and caress them with incredible finesse. The next weekend, I went to see the band Bombshelter Beast (they have two drummers), and there he was again, smiling and keeping time, but in this case he leapt to the front of the stage to deliver some stinging hard rap. I learnt that he also plays drums for top acts Albert Frost, Pieter Smith, Georgetown and Boo! I was intrigued. Why are so many bands using the same drummer?
I asked Bombshelter band leader Marcus Wyatt what it is that Riaan van Rensburg brings to the party, and why he chooses to work with him. “It’s his infectious energy. He’s a great drummer, a great musician and, as we discovered recently, a great rapper. His positive outlook is what makes him such an asset to so many bands. That’s all you really want from the people you play with — you want to know your music is safe with them, they have respect for it, and they’re enthusiastic about it.”
Percussionist Steve Barnett, who played with Riaan many moons ago, replied to the same question with Riaan’s trademark expression “Yes, yes, yes!”, which is exactly how Riaan greeted me before our interview. Along with his obvious musical abilities, this triple affirmation is plainly what other musicians can’t help but respect and respond to.
The answer to the other question on my mind — why it is that Riaan is so damn happy — soon became apparent. He grew up in a musical family. His father Johan was the band leader on Noot vir Noot, his mother is renowned Afrikaans singer Rina Hugo, and his uncle Louis van Rensburg is also a multi-instrumentalist.
Riaan began drumming almost as soon as he could walk, appearing on TV shows such as Noot vir Noot, Wielie Walie and Dis my geheim from the tender age of four. He always knew what he wanted to do: play drums. If you always knew what you wanted to do, and then succeeded in making a living doing just that, wouldn’t you also be happy?
It turns out Riaan has been playing with several bands simultaneously since he started studying music at the then Pretoria Technikon 30 years ago, where his uncle Louis started the music school. There he met a number of other prominent local musicians and built a network he’s maintained to this day. Riaan started the band Jungabeez in his second year, and then teamed up with bassist Makati, from the band Kwassa-Nkemba, who took him to Soweto for rehearsals — quite a cultural leap for the 18-year-old Afrikaans student.
He started listening to world music and playing gigs at clubs such as 206 and The Bassline, where he heard African jazz and connected with musicians such as Wyatt and Sean Fourie. “I decided there and then I wanted to be able to play all types of music, and my studies went in a completely different direction. I became interested in indigenous music.”
Riaan watched Louis Mhlanga’s band a lot and then, when their drummer died, he started playing for them. He still plays with Mhlanga today. He learnt licks from Sipho “Hotstix” Mabuse and George Phiri, “who loved that this young white guy could nail their beats, like mbaqanga”.
As he’d learnt to read and score music, and his ear had been trained, he was able to play with lots of acts. He also has a gift that enables him to listen to a piece of music just once and then be able to play it from memory. And if he can’t figure something out, he’ll go back and keep working on it until he can. He learns the structures of songs quickly and, after a rehearsal or two, is ready to play with practically any band.
“I am mostly self-taught as a drummer but, funnily enough, I’ve learnt more from guitarists, who usually write the music. They often sing the music to me before we play together, and I have learnt they emphasise certain notes and play beats slightly differently.”
Jungabeez used to play at a lot of festivals, and he joined drum circles at Rustlers Valley and then got into working with the Drum Cafe crowd. “Dave Oldfield became a mentor and took me into his family, where I met Wendy Oldfield and Steve Barnett. We’d play for four hours without stopping — just make a fire and jam. I started attending workshops with master drummers from West Africa. Emmanuel Gomado had a brilliant system of teaching, which I loved, so I went to Odehe Drum & Dance Ghana.”
The first week in Ghana was hectic — Riaan caught malaria and nearly died. But there were even more trials in store for him when he recovered. “Learning to play is one thing, but to keep playing for hours requires endurance. Playing with these guys is hardcore — it’s like the movie Whiplash. As I’ve experienced many times before, teachers get extremely angry with you, but if you walk away, it’s like you are walking away from your own instrument. You have to ask yourself, ‘Am I going to get it right?’
“When you play with these Ghanaians, you have to hold the rhythm for ages — and then, when you’re asked to do a solo, you have to be able to project above everyone else. This requires perfect technique. You get to the point where the technique itself creates the volume, but this takes time and experience. Sometimes the teachers deliberately try to knock you off the beat with their solos, but if you lose the beat, you may get a slap. They’re so quick you won’t even know who it was who slapped you ... ”
Upon returning to South Africa, Riaan started developing his own corporate drumming programme. Then, between 2003 and 2005, he went to London, where he gained experience working with children, including ones in jail. Often there weren’t enough drums, so he had to encourage the kids to make their own instruments out of junk. He did a workshop at Arthur Hull’s Village Drumming, where he learnt how to facilitate drumming sessions and use them to help young people communicate with each other, build their human potential, and encourage them to participate in group activities.
Riaan also loves his corporate work. “I start with an icebreaker and then, once I have their attention, I keep it. I use a call-and-response technique and slowly make things more complex. Then the corporate guys start responding, and the next thing they’re playing. There’s a sense of relief when people realise they can play a bit. Even if they can’t really play, they can usually follow along. Music has a healing energy, and drums have this on a primal level. The music gives people comfort, confidence and energy.
“There’s a synergy the drums bring which is what management want. They want to get their staff working together.”
These days, aside from playing with many bands, Riaan is involved in multiple other projects. “After London, I did my debut album Dance Met My, where I did singing, rapping and covers. It was designed for a beer-tent vibe. I learnt how to make electronic music from my father, so I play with a lot of DJs here and help them with beats.” In 2018, he made the trance album Travel Tunes.
“There was a rap song on one of my albums. I played it to Marcus, and he liked it. He’s always wanted me to do that rap song with Bombshelter Beast, and that night you watched me at [Randburg club] Sognage was the first time I’ve done it live. I was nervous.”
Well, I reckon he nailed it. Yes, yes, yes ... he certainly did.
