TAKUDZWA HILLARY CHIWANZA
KrAim Wave might not be a familiar name. Understandable. But when experiencing his music, you are greeted with a dizzying influx of forward-looking sounds. With his latest album release, an album titled CODE NAME: PURPLE – a seemingly monumental title steeped in pages of history – it is immediately and concretely evident that he has come with a refreshing palette of experimental sounds; creating one of the most cogent projects in Zimbabwe’s underground rap circles thus far.
In some respects, his music may strike one as that of uncanny flows, which then necessitates a closer listen – and this then exudes the impression of a type of music that thrusts you in a sea of ambience. And with CODE NAME: PURPLE, KrAim Wave takes a bold leap to vindicate such assertions, showing no fear of experimenting with sounds that deviate from the conventional ways of making rap music in Zimbabwe. It is not that he is engrossed in making some sort of exotic music. He is more pressed with telling his own stories, and how he interprets them, in a way he feels comfortable with. And that's some laudable courage from the rapper, representing an untapped new school that has lots of urban stories to tell. This is an album marked with exquisite, lush production, and this lays an unshakeable foundation for KrAim Wave to oscillate between introspective raps and unabashed cockiness.
Here is a project in which KrAim Wave, who hails from Bindura, takes the golden opportunity to relay his understanding of the world around him to anyone who finds this worthy to listen. It is a body of work about the digital age, and attempting to come to terms with some of the existential issues associated with this epoch. At the same time, it is not about KrAim being bogged down by what may seem to be abstract concepts – at the end of the day, he is just a rapper who wants to make his claim in the clogged rap game. He sees opportunity. Except, he just wants to do it a little differently. And this, sometimes, may entail employing concepts that seem overly-intelligent.
The album borrows its title – which I previously described as monumental – from the deciphering messages of the World War II era. It is inspired by the technology of this era: specifically 'purple' which was the codename used by the United States in reference to the Japanese cipher machine that encrypted diplomatic messages. This electromechanical device, also called the System 97 Typewriter for European Characters, was used to encrypt messages between Tokyo and Japanese embassies worldwide – and in that time it was a technological marvel. KrAim Wave considers this to be something that was ahead of its time. And this is the equivalence he ascribes to his project: that it is ahead of its time. Perhaps the fact that American cryptographers, especially those at the US Army Signal Intelligence Service, were able to decipher the Purple code does not concern KrAim that much – the fact that such a device existed at that time suffices as inspiration for him.
His offering shows an understanding of the digital world and how it influences modern lived reality. He makes it a point to keep the album rhythmically assertive from its opening right up to when it is concluded. It is essentially a showcase of an avant-garde rap portraiture. KrAim Wave told us that he influenced much of the production on the album, and in the track 44 kHz he makes sure to stress this point: "I'm laying my vocals on my own production." From then on the album becomes marked with subtle developments, with an incremental progression. And he does not have much patience for his competition, which he describes as "counterfeits" in the track DigitaL (CounterfiET). That's how much he believes in his prowess.
The track ComputErs, which features WanMei, is a tale about the digital age. With a meditative sparseness in its instrumental, we have both KrAim and WanMei conjuring new paths of experiencing music. They disparage "computer babies" as WanMei talks of "ideas like Nikola Tesla". And for KrAim, he talks of those with "Twitter fingers, busy typing on computers" while he is busy making music on computers. On the track X, he expresses his dislike for people with "fake smiles".
CodE PurpLe, the interlude, opens with beeping sounds of an unspecified machine. It's a track in which he flexes his rap capabilities, which feeds into the title of the album. On the track Spotify, we are introduced to Lucretius, an excellent rapper in his own right. "Niggas playing me like music on Spotify," KrAim says. The most notable thing on this album is how the sounds feel spacy, reflecting the brilliance of attention to detail—and this feels like paradise for purists, even for others it may feel a tad haphazard. But that's all deliberate, because the approach in itself is unorthodox. 4.0 with Elijah Wordsmith is more about the songwriting that's there, and the chemistry that exists between the two as part of the Private Events collective. They spit with assurance. The beat switch on this track complements the lyrical blitz by the two artists, oozing ample confidence as they talk of "never losing focus".
There is no need for KrAim Wave to follow any rigid blueprint of rap music. His ways are not rushed, and he has potent hooks that culminate in unexpected finesse. PrEsidentiaL is one of those tracks, where you just follow the sound as KrAim Wave raps his ass off. The album reaches a befitting crescendo on IntErconnectedness which features the amazing vocalist SoulDeep Zim. It is deep, meditative, contemplative, and preaches the philosophy of how interconnected everything is in our modern world. The wonderful vocals from SoulDeep Zim give an air of optimism as she shares the story of her life, and resolving to never give up. It's a capitalist neoliberal world order where things don't make sense "like a dreadlocked person at a barber shop" – the real story of a troubled Zimbabwean youth with scattered hopes and disjointed aspirations. It's that one song where KrAim gets a a bit vulnerable, and raises pertinent social issues.
The meticulous and and composed approach infused in this project make it a worthwhile body of work. The unhurried delivery continues through the rest of the album, and in some instances it feels as one of those albums that grows on you an requires serious intent from the listener. Such a laid-back approach presents KrAim as a rapper with a solid conviction that he has a strong case to make rap-wise. The album concludes with a conflation of introspection and lyrical flex, on the tracks IntrospEct (featuring WanMei), CybEr BuLLy (featuring Irie Flower, also part of the Private Events collective), and the outro, RedLight (featuring Elijah Wordsmith and VI The Law). This is a project for the underground, but there can be no doubt that KrAim Wave has an appetite for a modicum of the limelight.
You can stream the project here: https://open.spotify.com/album/6bLiin3df0JL8PvdbmkwCb?si=DrPjZnGoTXKfl2WjCJORRQ
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