The Cape of good hope

It’s a hot, hot Friday in December in Cape Town. Outside the window of the suitably minimalist New York loft-style three-storey building, the piercing blue sky fights for space with the omni-present Table Mountain. Inside, on the top floor, hip-hop originator Steinski is delivering a marathon lecture on a series of records he made 20 years ago to a room full of rapt student DJs and producers one-third of his age. On the floor below, the four music production studios lie idle – Steinski is proving to be a big draw – while on the ground floor, a small army of staff is planning the following days’ musical jamboree in one of the city’s more accessible townships.

This is the Red Bull Music Academy 2003. 30 students, 20 countries and two weeks in one of the – visually at least – most remarkable cities in the world. The imposing Table Mountain – surely the most impressive backdrop any city could wish for – is rarely out of view, while Robben Island, the notorious island jail nestling a half-an-hour catamaran ride from the upmarket Waterfont tourist trap, is rarely out of sight… and still not out of mind.
It’s only 10 years since the fall of Apartheid in South Africa, and Cape Town feels like a city still trying to forget. With its Afro/European influences, its colleges attract students from all over Africa and beyond, while its nightlife and relaxed attitudes attract cultural refugees from all over the continent and the world. It feels like the most cosmopolitan of all South African cities, but there’s still a precarious balance – and a marked divided - between first world and third. Walking around the city, you are immediately struck by the amount of posters and billboards calling on people to register to vote in this year’s elections. 10 years on, it feels like a balance has yet to be achieved.
You could say that the Red Bull Music Academy is something of a metaphor for what the country aspires to be. A diverse group of mixed-race, mixed-gender people brought together by a common goal. OK, the goal in this instance is making, talking about and listening to electronic music, but you get the drift. Now in its fifth year – Berlin, Dublin, London and Sao Paulo are previous homes – it represents all that is positive about this sub-genre of music. The idea behind the Academy, according to the organisers, is to “bring together DJs and music producers from diverse musical and cultural backgrounds to exchange their ideas about music and their knowledge about how life in the music industry works”.
And it works. Proof positive is this year’s Irish entrant, noted Dublin hip-hop DJ Davey Splice. Exuding an air of delighted bewilderment on his third day in the city, we first encounter him leaving a second-hand record store with a new friend and fellow student from the US armed with a fistful of soul and jazz records. T-shirts and shorts have replaced the usual Irish December garb.
“It’s been a blast,” he grins. “I’ve met some cool people and some really open-minded heads here. It’s crazy- I’ve met people from all over, a couple of Americans, a guy from Finland, one from Sweden who’s really into scratching. A lot of people know people you know, which just shows you how small the music scene is really.”
Another Academy plus point is the fact that it acts as a melting pot in the traditionally polarised world of ‘dance’ music. Too often techno is techno, house is house and hip-hop is hip-hop and never the twain shall meet. The fact that the Academy throws these 30 music fans – many with diverse musical backgrounds – together means there’s little chance of this happening here.
“It hasn’t broken into different factions, says Splice, “it’s definitely opened me up into different types of music already.”
What will he take from this?
“Apart from opening me up to new stuff, I’ve made some great contacts from all over the globe – hopefully some gigs will come out of it and some people will come over to Ireland and grace us with some good beats.”

Back to Steinski. The New York veteran has the room spellbound. He was responsible for the genre-creating, pre-sampler Lessons 1, 2 and 3 in the early ’80s – tracks that played a pivotal influence on many a hip-hop producer and DJ, from Coldcut to DJ Shadow. His first-hand recollection of how he got his break – by entering a Tommy Boy remix competition with a mix made using countless samples from audio tape and a razor blade – is nothing short of fascinating, while his revelations on the inspiration behind the tracks (comedy records from the ’60s and ’70s) draw both gasps and laughs from the main crowd. It’s an incredible thing to witness – both in terms of content and audience, some of whom were just about born when the Lessons first surfaced.
Not all the guest lecturers shine so brightly. London broken-beat producer Seiji seem confused by the whole affair, relying on predictable answers (to predictable questions) rather than getting into the spirit of things. Note to Seiji – what’s the point in travelling 9,000-odd kilometres if you’ve nothing to say. Compost records head honcho Michael Reinboth fares little better, but New York-born and London-based deep house DJ Cosmo ups the ante with some useful advice for female participants on the male-dominated industry and setting up and running a label. In truth, some of the lecturers were probably bored to death by the predictable line of questioning from the conveners. But this is a minor quibble.
While Cosmo was talking, it was impossible not to notice a well-dressed gentleman at the back of the room constantly asking for the sound to be re-adjusted. Initially putting him down as an over-zealous big-wig, he turned out to be one of the unexpected highlights of the first term. On paper, a lecture from a man who makes speakers and sound-systems for a living may not have seemed like a must-see, but that’s the beauty of the Academy – unexpected delights.
New Yorker Alex Rosner was the perfect guest – mixing practical technical information with truly fascinating first-hand tales of the first and last days of disco, his involvement in making the first disco mixers, what makes a ‘good room’ and ramblings on lugging speakers around the Big Apple’s streets at night. While it’s difficult to select the ideal lecturer when making contact via agents/e-mail/calls, perhaps a personality test should be in order for some at next year’s event.
The Academy is proof that the dance music industry is far from dead; it’s just left the pages of the style mags and tabloids and gone back to what it was in the first place – a niche scene with a devoted fan base. Just like the shakedown in Dublin and Ireland’s clubland over the past year-and-a-half, it’s obvious from this experience that the scenes rooted firmly in music - rather than any other distractions – are in no danger.
It’s easy to be cynical about an event like this, easy to argue that the concentration on sub-genres and the celebration of the seemingly irrelevant is somewhat pointless. But the fact is that event, in its own way, represents the future of electronic music – compact, dedicated, passionate.
Steinski is coming to the end of a marathon lecture, and the evening sun is still shining in the window. Tomorrow, the entire group will head to a township for the Park Jam – a day-long event with locals and DJs, a sort of a shanty town block party in the blazing heat that will see Davy Splyce scratch up a storm with local MCs on the mic.
But for now, after applauding Steinski, the students split up into groups and hit the studios and workshops for a few hours of hands-on fun with the vast array of equipment. And then it’s out onto the streets, bar and club-hopping up and down Long Street to catch the Academy DJs at play in the city’s clubs. And after two weeks, it’s all over. All good things must come to an end – but in a way this is just the beginning.

Check www.redbullmusicacademy.com for details on next year's event