In Defense Of The Ensemble Remix

The Zim music scene has come in leaps and bounds in the last few years.

I know, I know… it can be tough for sadza eaters to acknowledge and celebrate progress as it happens. It’s not necessarily our fault: we’ve been hurt before. But between improved production (outside of the big studios), videos that don’t look out of place regionally and (dare I say) internationally, robust presence on streaming sites, inter-genre and intergenerational collaborations, it’s…pleasing to see.

By Shingi Mavima

[Zimbabwean author and musician who currently resides in Toledo, Ohio]

Another trope that has come to the fore of late is that of the ensemble/posse remix. To be fair, remixes in general are on the rise; but safe to say the ensemble remix (typically featuring three or more artists not on the original) is the definitive remix of this era. Fire Emoji, Dhanzi (Nawanadem), Gore, etc; you get the drift. At the risk of murking the waters, allow me to add other ensemble tracks (a la Ihulumende), which may not necessarily be remixes, but often find themselves subject to the same criticisms.

Some people don’t like the ensemble remix.

Well, at least not its proliferation as a staple of the urban music space. We’ll get back to that. We must; it’s why I’m here.

Before we get to the meat-and-potatoes, however, let’s do a quick, pedestrian historicization of the urban remix. The earliest example that comes to my mind is perhaps Innocent Utsiwegota’s Country Boy (1997) which, while not an ensemble remix, did have a couple of different versions featuring Major E and Potato, with each version alternating between prominently featuring Shona or English ( a formula they’d repeat again in the early 2000s with the iconic In my Dreams.) The first semblance of a mainstream ensemble remix that comes to mind is David Chifunyise’s Tauya Naye Remix, which featured Sniperstorm and the ladies of the group Iyanai. Stop it; that song went, and still goes hard.

In the intervening years, a smattering of ensemble remixes also hit the waves; MMT’s Zvidhori (2013), Maskiri’s NaMwari (also 2013), and Stunner’s Team Hombe (2018) are some high profile examples here.

While not remixes, Excuse Me Miss by Roki, Leonard Mapfumo and friends and Sanii and the Umsindo All Stars’ Zvachose embody a similar spirit and bear mentioning here.

It is also worth mentioning the 2010s advent of the Dancehall riddim medleys popularized in Zimbabwe by the likes of PTK and Chillspot that, while not remixes, also embodied this essence of young artists, some established and some angling for a break, coming together in this paradoxical exercise of asserting your individuality through community.

The current wave of mainstream ensemble remixes, however, can be traced back to 2022’s Fire Emoji Rmx by Leo Magozz and friends. To suggest otherwise is disingenuous. Make no mistake; the original by Leo Magozz, Bling 4, and Brian Jeck, which came out earlier that February was already a hit by the time the remix dropped in September (and currently sits at just under 1.5M views on YouTube.)

The remix, however, elevated the song to another stratosphere, and currently sits at 4.8M on YouTube. Retaining the drill-inspired beat and infectious chorus (the most memorable parts of the original) and the three original artists, the song added a smorgasbord of new-school rappers (Holy Ten felt like an elder by this stage, and he’d only broken into the mainstream two years earlier), blessed with a feature from arguably the biggest female rapper of the past decade, Kikky Badass, and the dancehall stylings of Buffalo Souljah and Nutty O- the latter who was coming from just dropping the era-defining album, “Mustard Seed.” It…took off.

Oh, and did I mention it was a ZimCelebs joint?

It was a ZimCelebs joint.

In fact, all the popular ones beginning with Fire Emoji have been. The online entertainment and gossip platform has cornered that market in what one has to assume is a mutually beneficial tradeoff with the artists.

Following the award-sweeping success of Fire Emoji Rmx, the gang got back together the following year and attempted to recreate the magic with Ihulumende. While the essence of the vibe and the core group was retained, there were also some key personnel switches: out went Kikky, Buffalo, and the now-iconic chorus by Leo Magozz; in came young Bagga, crooner Kae Chaps, and man-of-the-moment Saintfloew, and the Ndebele harmonies of Calvin Mangena on the chorus.

It did…okay. But this is when the murmurs of disenchantment with these ensemble tracks emerged. While yours truly thoroughly enjoyed this joint, and it currently sits at over a million views, there can be no denying that it was meant to replicate Fire Emoji. From a near-identical beat to a similar line-up to the same self-aggrandizing themes, there was a decidedly “Fire Emoji Rmx fatigue” vibe in the ear (It doesn’t help that the remix itself had also been remixed a dozen times before Ihulumende dropped.)

Since then, the rotating cast of Avengers have come together every few months, albeit with slightly varied themes; whether that is the motivational year-starter that was the Gore Remix, Chillmaster’s Ndiudze Zvese remix, and the midyear remix to Master H’s Dhanzi (Nawanadem) Rmx. While all have been pretty big (name recognition goes a long way!), the boos have gotten louder with each drop.

So prolonged introduction notwithstanding, let’s get to the discussion.

Challenging the Remix Critiques

So what is it that grinds the gears of the anti-remix brigade? I have drawn up three criticisms of remix culture that often pop up

“It taints the legacy of the original…”

While this may sound plausible, this is actually a false-flag proclamation. I dare you to think of an instance in which a terrible remix or rendition took away from the legacy of the original.

That’s not how legacies work. There are two likely outcomes. Either a) the remix is as good or better than the original, in which case the remix blows up and, typically, the original benefits from the uptick in attention as well as people go back to hear it for comparison’s sake or b) the remix sucks, and we just throw it into the trash and go back to the original.

Nobody ever said “so-and-so’s Chitekete is terrible, so now I don’t even listen to Dembo’s version.

“It’s lazy/uncreative.”

This is one I hear all the time. By virtue of contributing a verse (and at times, half a verse) to an ensemble track, you’re proving that you can’t carry your own song, let alone a full project, either due to a lack of work ethic or creativity.

Again, in theory, this may well be so. Far be it from me to suggest that no artist has ever coasted off collabs and remix contributions- of course there’s been (and that may not be the worst thing; but I’ll come back to that later.)

The reality, however, is those remixes are often laden with some of the hardest-working artists in the game. Let’s snapshot, for the sake of this point, the three-remix run of Gore, Ndiudze Zvese and Dhanzi (Nawanadem): Holy Ten is on two of them, and sometime within that run, he dropped an album, done commercials, jumped of the sta..you known how Mujaya does; Hwinza is having a renaissance year; Master H is dropping singles with top tier visuals, touring overseas (and we didn’t even know what he was up to this time last year!); Poptain just dropped a project; Kikky stays active; Kae Chaps’ Madiro has surpassed the seminal Juzi by more than a million views (and counting) etc. What do you mean lazy?

Now, are some artists just hopping on at the expense of working on more substantial projects? Probably. But they’d be in the minority I presume—and well, their career will reflect the implicit ceiling they put on their own catalog and career. That’s not the fault of the remix though; an artist like that you wouldn’t hear from anyway if they weren’t on the remix.

The “uncreative” criticism is even more absurd and baseless. In many ways, I would argue, you have to be especially creative. While on your own song, you get to express yourself on a theme of your conceiving for a couple of minutes, on posse remixes; you typically have just 20-30 seconds to do your thing on a song that you most likely didn’t conceive: how do you make that count? And oh, you are up against your peers, and nobody wants to be “the worst/least memorable verse”; so you go the extra mile (which is why you are likely to see the lesser-known artists on the roster delivering show-stealing verses compared to their more established compadres #pointtoprove.)

That, however, is not even the best argument for the creativity on show. On these remixes, most artists are rapping against type, both sonically and thematically. Nutty O, a dancehall artist, goes back to back on drill beats (FIre Emoji/Ihulumende) and does a good job of it. Conversely, the host of rappers on the dancehall anthem, Dhanzi, rode the riddim unfazed! The heartbreak king Kae Chaps got on Gore Rmx and told rappers (rappers!) they were on the menu in 2024; ladies’ man Julian King got on Dhanzi and dropped a worthwhile braggadocio verse; the typically intense Holy Ten is often the sillier, more playful version of himself on these songs. That’s creative. The ensemble remix mandates creativity.

“Well it’s ZimCelebs so…”

There are many who take umbrage—justified or otherwise—with Zimcelebs; for many of the same reasons that gossip-centric platforms are often criticized. But that’s got nothing to do with the quality of the music or the principle thereof.

We often lament the near-absence of a music industry in Zimbabwe. With talented artists and hungry audiences galore, and a government that is often languid about the arts, the fundamental missing piece is elaborate and sustained corporate investment. Ultimately, most ‘successful’ corporations are morally dubious in ways far worse than being messy with gossip; it just so happens that ZimCelebs (for example) is a public-facing product whose messes are far more easily perceivable by the public. Yet some of the titans of global music were built on the back of druglords, corrupt politicians, and other nefarious characters.

I’m not arguing here that “throw out all values and just accept all and any money…” Just that we can do a lot worse than ZimCelebs if we’re gonna be building this industry.

Well, that took us a long time to get to the actual defense. What are the merits, if any, of participating in these remixes?

Spotlighting new/lesser-known artists.

Let’s face it: breaking into the music industry is difficult; especially in an era in which you are competing with everyone; from those recording in their bedrooms to those funded by the biggest labels. Let us not glorify the struggle-bus unnecessarily: there is no honor in failing alone when an opportunity to leverage your connections and platform your skills is presented. If you can hop on a track with some of the biggest names in the game right now, why wouldn’t you? It’s not cheating: you still need to deliver, and do your diligence in the follow-up.

While Several lesser known artists, from M Killa to Shone, have had scene-stealing verses on these songs, nobody represents this dynamic more than Bling 4. Already buzzing in some circles, 4 came to the fore with his staccato opening verse on the Fire Emoji Rmx- an act he’s gone one to repeat a few times over. He, however, also used this to launch himself into the arena of the stars, with a stellar run from 2023 til now.

For those who complain about these remixes or ensemble songs; how many of you were checking for these artists before you found them there? Stop it.

Harmony in the Industry

We have to make up our minds: do we want an industry where artists support each other and work together or not? Because, I swear, for a long time, we bemoaned the lack of solidarity in the game, often pointing to that as a major force behind our flailing attempt at an industry. This is quite literally them working together; and now we don’t like it?

The gripes would be warranted if this was ALL the music we ever got— from these artists or otherwise. But are we really going to get our pantaloons in knots because, two or three times a year, half a dozen artists get together for a collaboration? What are we doing here?

And oh,
Friendly Fire

I can hear the old heads say “the game is meant to be competitive, not all buddy buddy!” Anybody who’s ever been on a cipher knows that, while it is essentially an exercise in community, everybody wants to have the best verse.Artists are out to kill others on the mic when they are on the same track! Oftentimes, we are seeing some of the very best of these artists on these joints; and it’s being done within the confines of community.

‘Tis the Culture

It is, perhaps, most fitting that I finish my ruminations by situating the tradition of ensemble tracks within its proper historical context. It is safe to say that contemporary urban music in Zimbabwe, such as is the subject of virtually all the songs we are discussing today, largely derives from a combination of caribbean reggae/dancehall, American hip-hop, and traditional Zimbabwean sonic patterns (a la Jiti, Chimurenga etc) influences, evolved and adapted for space and time. The ensemble records, let alone remix, is a staple in all three of those broad musical traditions.

In fact, it may be argued, era-defining moments within these genres are often punctuated by such; whether it’s Queen Latifah, MC Lyte and the rest of the ladies on 1995’s Freedom, The Underwater Medley, JD’s Welcome to Atlanta simultaneously announcing that the South was not only here to stay- but was taking the lead in bringing the coasts together as wellhgj, the Khaled ensembles of the late 2000s, through to the Pungwe ciphers that liberated Zimbabwe; the idea of coming together and trying to best each other, albeit in one voice still, is an iconic, transcendent part of this culture, by way of the cultures that have poured it into it.

The kids are alright.

Meanwhile, check Shingi's most recent drop on YouTube, something #RiddimsAndRaps is currently vibing!