Ahead of their performance at Back to the City, Helen Herimbi sat down with the legendary Optical Illusion.
“Tjo,” Keabetswe “Logik” Modiko reaches for Golden Shovel’s slightly protruding stomach and rubs it. “O sole grootman nê. O sole pregnant.” Logik’s playful jab about Golden Shovel (real name Stephen Mokoena) looking older and pregnant fills what was an awkward moment.
We’re standing outside a KFC in the Vaal Triangle’s Sebokeng township. The place we were meant to meet at 40 minutes ago would not let us sit down because Tongogara “Battlekat” Ntlokoa brought his nephew along. But I’m so keen to sit down with the legendary hip hop group, Optical Illusion, that I refuse to let the smell of deepfried chicken distract me.
Eventually, the fourth member of the group, Tumelo “Genocide” Ruele, joins us and we finally get to talk about their “reunion” at the annual Back to the City hip hop festival on Freedom Day and reflect on their musical journey. It’s awkward because I’m watching the rappers who haven’t released any new music in three years and whose last album, The Offering, released 11 years ago, try to reacquaint themselves with each other.
“So I took a Back to the City picture from 2012 and it had ‘Optical Illusion reuniting’ on it,” Golden Shovel tells me when I ask how the reunion rumours started.
“So, you are to blame for this,” Tongo points at him.
“It made a huge impact though, right,” Golden Shovel rhetorically asks and then laughs.
Battlekat turns to me and says: “It’s a reunion to do this one show. But life dynamics are different now so it’s kind of hard to say we may do something (else). I don’t know.”
Optical Illusion gave us the stellar debut album, Thoughts Illustrated, in 2000. They were based in the south of Joburg but even the likes of Flabba – and later, Pops Mohamed and Lebo Mashile – couldn’t ignore them then. Their single, Words of Steel, became an underground classic.
Then they went on to independently (through Catalyst 5) release their critically acclaimed album, Definitive, in 2003 and The Offering (through the iconic Outrageous Records) came in 2005.
Optical Ill, as they are affectionately called, consistently flew the Vaal flag high, but they were more than that. They were trailblazers in rap at a time when lyrical ability mattered more than how much Auto-Tune you use to mask your wack, non-rhyming sentences.
But how did it all start? The nostalgic energy is palpable when Logik and Battlekat correct each other on the facts. But basically, Logik and High Priest started Optical Illusion. Then Genocide joined, then Battlekat, then Golden Shovel. While recording Definitive, High Priest’s family moved to London and the group became a quartet.
Around this part of the interview, it’s nice to see that for people who haven’t seen each other in a long time, these three joke and talk over each other in an unmistakable camaraderie. But in the 11 years since The Offering, the group have only made one song together, Watch What You Say.
Battlekat says: “Around 2008 and 2009, we were going through an economic depression. Even Rage was closing down and… everyone depended on those resources.”
Then Logik interjects: “I don’t agree with him at all. Personally, I was rapping before Rage and never expected it to be my be-all and end-all. I think it was just the energies within the music that changed. We started to question ourselves creatively.”
I ask if these factors affected their personal relationships and specifically mention how Genocide has answered every question posed to him only with “I don’t know, it was a long time ago”. Golden Shovel offers some clarity.
“What he and he,” Golden Shovel points at Battlekat then at Logik, “said is 100 percent correct, but the root cause of this whole thing was actually more personal than it being an industry challenge. Those things came after. Basically, we had a fight. And then everything else came crumbling down. When that happened, we were already not in a good space as a group.”
Golden Shovel assures me that the group is “good now, but obviously, it’s personal and psychological so it will always be a process”.
Genocide, who has an amazing voice, released an album of himself singing house music under his real name.
He was also affiliated with Black Coffee and found some success in that genre. So I ask him what pursuing his vocal career did for him that the group couldn’t. Genocide finally talks: “Let’s tell you the truth. These guys didn’t want me to sing.”
Everyone bursts out laughing.
“I told them that this is where this music is going,” Genocide continues. “We were performing at the Tuks Rag and Morafe was coming on after us. We’d had conversations about how people respond more to melodies because it’s easy to catch so even with us rapping, let’s capture people. But they didn’t want that.”
Battlekat turns to Genocide: “They? Tumelo, who is ‘they’? I was the advocate for your singing! So what do you mean ‘they?’”
“Okay, I’ll be real,” Genocide points at Logik. “It was him. He felt like singing was dumbing us down from the kind of rappers we were. We came off as underground kings. Morafe went on and they had a phenomenal response. They had melodies and caught people without dumbing down. That was always my frustration. Before I’m a rapper, I sing. Stepping out alone afforded me that. I get in studio alone and I do what I want.”
I ask them where to from here and Genocide says: “If you can put this word out: when the name ‘Optical Illusion’ comes up, rappers should be sh*t-scared. Yeah, we used to rap 15 years ago, but I’m confident even now that we can take on anyone and any sound. We can do anything. When that single does come out, they need to be sh*t-scared.”