Four Artists Working to Rewrite the Rules of Collaboration in Music

MTHM (pronounced Muthama) is a producer from Nairobi exploring a different model of working together in making music. He describes himself as a ‘multi-faceted human being’, and perhaps it is this quality that allows for him to imagine alternative forms of collaboration in the music industry. At just 24, he has already brought together a team of exceptional musicians -- Zeke, 23, whose bars on Lewis Hamilton, a thunderous release from last year, first piqued my interest, followed by a trio of EPs; Silo, 24, a rap talent who already has two solid albums under his belt; and Maeve, 21, whose EP project displays a maturity that belies her years. 

Collaborations in music, from the Congolese rumba supergroups of the 70s and 80s such as the Franco-fronted TPOK Jazz, to much smaller, more tight-knit outfits such as Them Mushrooms who are still performing today, to contemporary groups such Just a Band, or Camp Mulla, or EA Wave, are a musical mainstay. There are many reasons why such long-term collaborations matter, why they traverse years, genres and geographies. Some of the things that form the bedrock on which groups are formed are shared connections, a broader diversity of talents, and while not as apparent, but perhaps as important as any other reason, is sharing in the unspoken joys of working on a common vision. But what happens when the vision is not common anymore? Over time, it’s not always easy to maintain a satisfying group dynamic, one that caters to the needs of each artist. Consider the multiple departures and arrivals during TPOK Jazz’s musical moment. Consider Camp Mulla. An enduring hallmark of collaborative musical efforts is not only their ubiquity, but their mercuriality too. 

So how can artists work together, long term, without having to go their separate ways to pursue individual paths? The answer is simpler than you think. What’s apparent while speaking to MTHM is the importance of knowing each other as humans, first. “If we can’t at all relate as human beings, then it becomes a bit difficult for me to commit and say, let’s do something big together, something that you hold dear to yourself,” he says. Zeke echoes this. “We were just friends first,” he says. “What brings us together is a mutual passion for the music we [want to] make.” However, It’s not uncommon for rifts to form in musical collectives -- or simply for those involved deciding to start a solo career. Even then, for these four artists, working on your solo music does not mean working on it alone -- you get the full support of the team, who are also your friends -- your family. “Together, as friends, or as family,” Silo says, “figuring out person A wants to get here, person B wants to get here, what can we all do together and each person gets to their subsequent target?”

“Whenever a certain artist is in the process of creating their project, like 90% of the resources are devoted to that particular artist,” MTHM says, “so that we can be able to make it the best we can.” Operating in the space between a group and a collective, they are beginning to redefine the rules of working together in music. 

There is a concise, almost endearing, quality in the group’s singular focus on making music, one that started years ago. “It started in primary, where I sang a song from church,” Maeve says. “I sang at a talent show in school, and that’s when I developed a really strong interest in music. Fast forward to Class 5, that’s when I watched Lion King […] from there, I picked songs, and I used their melodies to write my own songs, and that’s how I’d say my writing process started. Fast forward to Class 7, that’s when I started writing melodies from my head. This is when I started writing original stuff, I’d say. Moving on to high school […] I met a friend who played the piano, and clicking with them enhanced my writing process. That’s when my writing matured.” It’s the same for Zeke. “I started singing, rapping in high school, like, you know, sitting in class when you’re bored, writing some lyrics down, rapping them to your deskmate,” he says, “or whoever was around to listen.” And this is something that has stayed with them to date, continuously taking on newer, more refined forms. Silo talks about listening to the music accompanying a PlayStation game, and wondering why that music stayed with him long after the game had ended. “How does a song affect a person?” He says. “ What does it mean to be a musician? What does it mean to be an artist, and […] be able to connect with people who are listening to that material? What does it mean to play that role?”

MTHM talks about the need to fill a particular shortfall of classic sounds in the Kenyan music industry as his entry into music production. “After high school, I couldn’t really relate with the music in the Kenyan industry back then,” MTHM says. “Plus I thought that a lot of the stuff that was going on was [sealed in] for a very short-lived career. I really started thinking of how it is that a certain artist in Kenya can be in a position where they can have longevity in the craft and the industry as well, and that became [...] the foundation for me to start seeing what impact would I contribute to our industry going forward. In the same period, I met a friend who shared the same vision, had the same goals, and as soon as we had that conversation, we just realized that this is exactly what we want to do.” This friend was none other than Silo. 

In the time the four artists have been together, the in-house producer, Oscar, professionally known as  blasé_, has produced both of Silo’s albums, Frocean5 released in 2018, and The Lights, released earlier this year. He is also the one responsible for the mixing and mastering of all three of Zeke’s EPs, ISLO (In Side Looking Out), Detour and Boy, released in 2019 in that order. Finally, he was a pivotal figure in the development and production of Maeve’s EP, Cycles, which took about eight months to perfect. 

One trademark of these artists’ work is the intentionality with which any music they put out is developed. “If you don’t have it, nothing is going to be recorded,” MTHM says of blasé_’s rigorous production. Silo says that his second album, The Lights, was conceptualized from a very specific point in his life -- Form Two, to be exact, and the wide variety of people he met at the time. Authenticity is important to Silo’s process. “Two things that are super important, and they’re actually connected, is honesty and authenticity,” he says. “Being able to tell stories that you’ve experienced and connect with deeply.” This is also something that matters a lot to Maeve. Speaking of the role she sees herself occupying in Kenya’s musical landscape, Maeve says, “In the music industry now, a lot of people will tell you ‘sing like this’, ‘look like this’, ‘do this’ so that you can sell, but I think I’m here to show people that you can actually do the things you vibe with, and do the things you love, and still thrive.” And while we’ve witnessed a lot of trends in the Kenyan music industry, inflammable ones that bank on the short attention spans and FOMO which are characteristic of internet culture, Silo says that there needs to be durability in your music. “If you create something,” he says, “it shouldn’t be disposable, something that doesn’t matter next week.”

However, as with all artists, there are moments of spontaneity that cut just as deep as the more structured, heavily elaborated plans. “I spotted the cover even before we were done,” Maeve says of her photo shoot session for the Cycles EP cover. “I was like, this picture is definitely it.” The same has also happened where actually making the music is concerned. “I met blasé_,” Zeke says, “and we are just chilling, and he actually just decided, you know, can we work on something?” That something turned into his first EP, ISLO, which spurred on Detour, which in turn, paved the way for Boy. Luckily, they clicked. “One of the key things I really appreciate is the producer-artist relationship,” Maeve says. “If that doesn’t exist, what you’re going to create won’t work.” Zeke talks about how he experimented with the music, trying it on for size, but maintained the intentionality that is core to the team. The EP trilogy is a story that tells us about Zeke’s interiority in it’s first installation, ISLO, and in Detour, we are led on the journey of his broadening perspectives, which finally end at Boy, where he finds fun -- a good time. But it’s not all solo work. Silo features on Kupanda Ngazi, a track on Zeke’s ISLO. MTHM co-produced a track on Frocean5. And there are hints of future collaborations in the works; even the mouth-watering possibility of a compilation album from them.

“When my team has their music out, it’s a win for me,” MTHM says, “I like to see it that way.” However, while he has been prioritizing what his team needs, he is also currently working on his own debut LP. And there is so much more that will be coming from them, but there is a slowness, a thoughtfulness, that the team puts to task. “The whole curation process, it’s really thought out,” MTHM says. “Talking to my teammates concerning their ideas, or my ideas, always seems to give more light as to how we can approach a particular project. Sometimes we get to glean new insights through conversation, such that whenever it’s now recording time, it’s easy to set the ball rolling. So pre-production actually takes quite a while.” This is true of any good piece of art: it takes time. “Being an artist is deeply tied to self awareness.” Silo says. There are some things you can’t fake. But the work is being done.  “At any given moment, there’s an artist working.” MTHM says. “I can assure you that.” 

The familial warmth that MTHM and his team embody is fundamental to the quality and continuity of the work they produce, and of the distinctive group dynamic they embody. “I came in much later,” Maeve says, “but the experience so far has been great, because these are people I can count on [...] It’s a wholesome experience that’s not about music only.” And therein, I believe, lies the catch. Good music is not only about skill, but about the environment in which this skill is nurtured, about the connections that are fostered. Naijographia, an artists collective consisting of Bethuel Muthee, Rose Jepkorir and Mbuthia Maina, in their art exhibition, Wanakuboeka Feelharmonic, attempted to answer the question posed by the Black philosopher Fred Moten: how can you make the making of the music sound good? It wouldn’t be a stretch to say that these four contribute to this art, this poetry. “Yes, we are relating musically,” Silo says. “But as MTHM has said, just being able to connect as human beings. Who are they really? What do they want out of life, and where are they headed?”

You can find their music here.