How Madala Kunene & Sibusile Xaba Are Carrying The Guitar Lineage Forward With 'kwaNTU'

Madala Kunene and Sibusile Xaba mean serious business. On their new collaborative album, kwaNTU, the delineation between master and student dissolves. What emerges instead is a merging of souls, sounds, and aesthetics – a spiritual encounter that feels like it has been waiting on the sidelines for its moment on the field.

Kunene is no stranger to guitar wizardry, generational wisdom, a sense of cool that can’t be shaken, and a sensitivity to people and music that can neither be replicated nor imitated. Born in 1951 in Cato Manor, Durban, he developed an unmistakable playing style known as the Madala-line: earthy, meditative, and deeply rooted in Zulu folk traditions. Although he’d been performing on the South African live circuit since the seventies, his international breakthrough arrived with his 1995 MELT2000 album Kon’ko Man, which opened doors to collaborations with Busi Mhlongo, Guy Buttery, Max Lässer, and Syd Kitchen.

kwaNTU unfolds in ten songs, meditations on soul and spirit that capture the essence of the moments they were recorded in while embedding secret codes for future generations to decipher. Xaba recalls how the days leading up to the session were spent conversing, playing, eating, and being fully present. Joined by the percussive might of Gontse Makhene — himself a legend already — and regular collaborators Daniel Stompie Selibe, Naftali, and Fakazile, the duo set a clear, sharp intention. There’s no twisting or turning: every gesture aims straight for the heart.

Recorded in a single sitting during a week-long residency at the Kwantu Village cultural centre in their native KwaZulu-Natal, the album finds Xaba rising fully to the occasion. The decade and a half he has spent in bands and as a solo artist seems to have led him to this moment. Working alongside Kunene — whom he has known for years, and whose music opened new ways of listening for him — affirms the truth of the proverb “ukufunda akupheli” (learning never ends).

“You learn until you go to the grave. It’s such an honour to be with a grandmaster, consistently sharing. It’s a big learning curve for me,” he tells us.

“Umkhulu Omkhulu — An Ode To Credo Mutwa (Amandla eMvelo)” opens the confessional, honouring the late artist and healer Credo Mutwa while preparing the listener for what’s to come. It’s six minutes of divination, punctuated by gentle guitar passages and anchored by Makhene’s attentive, loving percussive clutch, proof that what’s happening here is larger than the music, even as it is rooted deeply within it.

“Izimpisi” follows; it’s one of the lead singles that signalled early on that this project is operating at a higher frequency. The isiZulu title translates to “hyenas,” but the metaphor expands, a name for all forms of turmoil lurking in the shadows, waiting for their moment to swallow us whole. Izimpisi are the neo-colonial states, the fascists, the warmongers, the liars, thieves, and killers who impede human advancement. The song is both labour and protest, a cautionary tale for young and old. “Bantwana, wozani ekhaya,” (children, come back home) Kunene calls out, his voice a conduit guiding us back toward the right path.

“I admire the love that they have for our traditional music,” says Kunene, referring to both Xaba and Makhene, whom he has played with extensively through Forest Jam. “They give me hope, and I encourage them not to lose that essence. I’ve known both of them since they were younger. Today, Sibusile is building his own family, so the conversations have extended beyond the music.”

A Collective Vision and Pure Intention

Music is the vessel they use to channel other messages. “Mqhele” is an interplay of nimble fingers picking notes that open into expansive universes. Xaba sings a trance-inducing melody that dissolves into the ether. It’s the calm before the fast-paced “Usho Njalo,” where voices, guitars, and percussion pour another layer of heritage into an already abundant offering. When it ends, you’ll want to spin it back; the ride feels almost too short.

“It’s crucial that the baton is passed on. It’s crucial for the information not to go into the ground with whoever is carrying it,” Xaba says, emphasising the importance of intergenerational exchanges like this one to the fabric of who we are as Africans.

“We’re just vessels that channel the music. Ideas of over-producing or overthinking – these are foreign concepts that have dominated the space for a long time, especially ever since song started becoming music, which is from the time it was commercialised. People wanted to produce music they could sell or tour with. I have nothing against that, but I feel the essence of a song is for one to receive and share,” he explains.

“This motif of frequency and vibration in a specific time is what we’re looking to capture. Sometimes you find that healing sonic moment, and then you want to add things that end up tainting it. You lose the frequency, and that’s the thinking behind how we record. I’m open to production; I produce myself. But I find this way more honest. I might have played the wrong chord, but the intention is pure, and people relate more to that.”

Kunene adds: “The vision for the album was collective. We spent time thinking through it, and there was no space for ‘I’m the eldest’. My age was immaterial. I like how agile Sibusile and Gontse’s minds are. Not everyone has that gift. It also goes back to having a family, because they are able to think laterally. My heart is very happy about the work we’ve produced. Sibusile guards me and takes care of me.”

The album doesn’t resolve, but radiates outward with every song that passes. It places Kunene’s legacy and Xaba’s evolving voice in the same current, pushing their shared language of spirit and love of sound into new terrain. kwaNTU marks a moment, and as well sets a pulse that will carry far beyond it.