Named after bubblegum for the way the “initial burst of sweetness quickly vanishes on the tongue” ¹. 

Synthesizers, drum machines, electric instruments.

’70s era mbaqanga, the British Invasion, Brill Building, the West Coast Sound, Motown and garage rock, marabi, kwela, fusion groups like Harari ¹.

On the one hand, bubblegum has been criticized for being ‘stylistically white,’ ² essentially a dance form whose lyrics and music were mostly repetitive and of secondary importance,’ with a musical aesthetic of ‘contrived innocence’ ³. Meintjes recounts the perception of ‘whitey’ bubblegum as put forth by a well-known mbaqanga producer:

“This music is inferior because its guitars merely strum, its drums dominate the mix, its vocal delivery is disengaged, and its texts are inane. It is music without swing or groove or ‘participatory discrepancies.’ It is dead in tune and dead on time and, hence, ‘white.’”  ².

This perspective carries some merit when you contrast bubblegum to any of the antecedent South African ‘jazz styles’ like kwela and marabi, which were both founded on the great musical talent and playing ability of black musicians and vocalists. By comparison, bubblegum was, without question, a product of the studio and electronically-mediated instruments, thereby granting it an immediate association with Western and ultimately white music culture. While it may lack the elements of musical aptitude and innovative performance style that characterize kwela, marbi or mbaqanga, it could be argued that bubblegum holds its own stylistic and musical value in its notable use of subversive lyrical content that progressed considerably over the genre’s span of popularity; by enabling the rise of South Africa’s first pop stars and producers, some of whom used their pop celebrity status to make themselves into beacons for social change; and for engendering public ambition and interest in positive social change, simply by being a form of community-oriented dance music, not unlike marabi (which was initially criticized for being overly repetitive and simplistic, and dismissed as a type of superficial dance music).

Bubblegum stands out stylistically from other concurrent South African music styles (such as maskanda, mbaqanga, simanje manje, mgqashiyo and mbube that persisted into the 1980s) for a few key reasons. Importantly, bubblegum lyrics were almost invariably in English, and tended to follow a cyclical call and response format ⁴. Early ‘80s bubblegum lyrics and instrumentation seemed so heavily mirrored off of American pop music – ‘Weekend Special’, provides one such example as the first major bubblegum hit that also used the typical Westernized intro-verse-bridge-chorus components – that bubblegum at times was practically indistinguishable from American pop of the same era, unlike popular South African genres of the past decades that often utilized Zulu or Xhosa lyrics and traditionally-derived melodies ³. Bubblegum was almost entirely programmed and sequenced on keyboards and drum machines, utilizing “a lot of absolutely electronic, contemporary-sounding timbres” and processed vocals ⁴. The drums in particular took a characteristically bouncy, four-on-the-floor form that tended to dominate the sound, helping to establish bubblegum’s nearly unshakeable public image as dance music. The facile instrumentation and consistent ‘mold’ employed in bubblegum production meant that chart-topping tracks were produced in literal masses. As South African producer West Nkosi recounts – “Twenty! I can make twenty in a day!” ².

The ease with which bubblegum tracks could be produced, their consistently-employed blueprint for instrumentation and sound, and the overall reliance on studio production provoked a shift in commercial and branding focus away from musicians to vocalists – the “faces” of bubblegum – and importantly, their producers. The 1980s township pop industry, in a way, provided the impetus for a new type of musical occupation: the creative producer role.  This new ‘type’ of producer was able to curate a particular sound without necessarily creating it (though some of the most successful producers did both), mainly by matching vocal talent with the right kind of backing sound and songwriting to create commercial hits with astonishing predictability. Sello ‘Chicco’ Twala arguably pioneered this role when he worked with Brenda Fassie and Sipho Mabuse to create a sound that fused ‘an element of political protest with the danceability of Soweto soul,’ in turn helping skyrocket their careers to pop stardom ¹.

The initial agenda to create a type of pop music that a leading radio DJ would dub ‘bubblegum’ – to describe its aesthetic disposition of ephemeral sweetness, and ostensibly comment on the absence of substantive lyrical or musical ingenuity – may not have been so much intentional or strategic as it was a consequence of the reality of musical expression under increasingly repressive apartheid rule. As the National Party-controlled government continued to strip black people of their individual rights, independence and overall humanity, musicians and performers faced extreme and increasing difficulty securing recording and performing contracts if they engaged in any form of music that could be construed as having an association or allegiance to black political agendas or cultural expression – a protocol that persisted well into the late 1980s ¹. As a result, musicians and producers quickly discovered that in order to gain any radio airplay and commercial success, they either had to conform to the censorship protocol, choose to continue their careers overseas, or – as many successful bubblegum pop stars and producers chose to do – create music that was able to evade censorship scrutiny by use of subversive lyrical content, rife with innuendos and metaphors that concealed political messages under the bouncy, happy-go-lucky sound of township pop drums and synths. Some speculation even exists as to whether the actual term ‘bubblegum’ was strategically promulgated by producers, artists and even labels to disguise the music’s true messages from government censorship scrutiny  ¹. It was not uncommon for one song to possess multiple interpretations, or for a common understanding to exist among fans that the lyrics or meaning of a song were intentionally subversive without any obvious indication in the song itself – such that a song might make it through SABC censorship scrutiny and get on the radio despite being known to the black public as being a protest song. Case in point, Yvonne Chaka Chaka first recorded a song called ‘Winnie Mandela’, which the SABC refused to play, so they changed the title and lyrics to ‘Winning My Dear Love’, but fans were already familiar with the underlying meaning of the song and would sing the original lyrics when Yvonne Chaka Chaka performed live  ⁵. Later on, Chicco Twala would release his 1987 hit “We Miss You Manelow,” which was actually a reference to Nelson Mandela disguised as a song lamenting the absence of a girl named ‘Manelow.’ Live concerts played a critical role in revealing and spreading the real meaning and intended lyrics of songs, since they were not privy to the same censorship obstacles encountered in radio play ⁵.      

From a stylistic perspective, township pop of the early 1980s – which took off in popularity with the commercial success of Brenda Fassie’s 1983 hit single and album ‘Weekend Special’ – had more in common with American pop music of the same era than with South African sax jive and mbaqanga (apart from the use of electronic instruments). This isn’t surprising given that American imported music (particularly African-American styles like funk, soul and R&B) consistently outsold any and all home-grown South African styles through preceding decade. However, this wouldn’t remain the case as bubblegum’s lyrical content and overall message evolved considerably through the 1980s, likely in response to precipitous social and political events that signaled the pinnacle of apartheid-induced racial tensions. One such event was the 1985 government decision to create a Tricameral Constitution with a conspicuous lack of black representation, which provoked substantial protest activity. The South African government in turn responded by inciting a State of Emergency declaration and sent thousands of government troops into the townships ⁵. From then on, township pop music lyrics began taking on openly political, increasingly resistant and even militant overtones  ⁵. The resulting evolution can be seen between early 1980s bubblegum hits like ‘Weekend Special’ (non-political lyrical content, western pop sound) and post-1985 songs such as ‘Black President’ (the title has an obvious political message given Mandela’s concurrent incarceration, and the song itself presents a more African-sounding instrumentation and isicathamiya-invoking singing style). Brenda Fassie, in fact, was arguably responsible for transforming the genre from its initial American soul and disco-emulating sound, to a township-influenced version that incorporated politically and socially inclined lyrical content as well as African musical elements; ‘Boipatong’ provides one such example ³. The end result, bubblegum as it is remembered today, has a distinctly South African symbolism as the synth-heavy 80’s pop of the townships, not necessarily or ubiquitously as the simplistic ‘bubblegum’ music that musical elites dismiss it to be – in this respect, the name can even be thought of as a term of endearment for a type of music that did not represent a surrendering to an oppressive authority, but presented an avenue for creative expression and enjoyment in a highly repressed socio-political environment.

“Weekend Special” (1983) – The first major bubblegum hit to use a typically Western-style intro-verse-bridge-chorus components:

TZ Junior – “Sugar My Love” (1985) – A typical bubblegum song – exemplified by the cheerful and non-politicized lyrical content:

Brenda Fassie – “Boipatong” (1984) – An example of the ‘township’ style of bubblegum:

NaakMusiQ ft. Bucie – “Ntombi” (2018) – A modern take on bubblegum:

Coplan, David. In Township Tonight! South Africa’s Black City Music and Theatre, 2nd Edition. Chicago and London: The University of Chicago Press, 2008. Print. p. 293-6 ¹,

Meintjes, Louise. Sound of Africa! Making Music Zulu in a South African Studio. Durham and London: Duke University Press, 2003. Print. p.152 ², 154 ⁴

Schumann, Anne. 2008. “The Beat that Beat Apartheid: The Role of Music in the Resistance against Apartheid in South Africa.” Stichproben – Vienna Journal of African Studies 8.14: 17-39. Print. ⁵

Viljoen, Martina. 2008. “On the Margins of Kwaito.” The World of Music 50.2: 51-73. Print. ³