Palmwine Tappers... From the roots... of Afrobeat... we rise. Pouring rhythm... beneath open skies. House... and Amapiano... meet. Horn winds... dance... to every beat. We mix... we meld... we chase the sound. New grooves... in old soil... found. Blacksmith... and Emma... drums that roar. Cleartones... shakes... the deepest floor. Markfill... paints on keys... with grace. Plato... breathes fire... through sax’s face. Spencerryy... spins... the future’s thread. While CHIWEDA... strings... what must be said.
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10 months ago
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