Music
10 of the Best Beats by Ganja Beatz
Check out these stand out productions by the trio from Mafikeng
Consisting of Matthew Bowen and brothers Heemal and Aashish Gangaram, Ganja Beatz has become one of the go-to production team in South African hip-hop and other genres. The trio from Mafikeng has produced for the likes of Black Coffee, Cassper Nyovest, Kwesta and many others.
Even though many of the trio’s productions have graced radio charts, they have made beats for some niche artists such as J Molley and YoungstaCPT. Ganja Beatz is one of those production outfits who have no specific sound—it’s as if they tailor-make their beats specifically for the artist they are working with—trap and boom-bap both come naturally.
From mega-hits like Cassper Nyovest’s “Gusheshe” to DJ Switch’s street classic “Now or Never” and deep cuts such as Nasty C’s “I Lie” and J Molley’s “Never Know”, Ganja Beats has proven adept at the craft of assembling sounds that go well together.
Below, are 10 beats the trio has made that stand out.
DJ Switch (ft. Shane Eagle, ProVerb, Reason and Kwesta) “Now or Never” (2016)
DJ Switch couldn’t have chosen a more fitting instrumental for his rappity-rap single “Now or Never”. The beat is minimal, leaving plenty of space for ProVerb, Kwesta, Reason and Shane Eagle to spit memorable cypher bars. It’s dry, with aggressive and painful high pitch pads and gnarly strings. After a string of trap and new age kwaito-leaning instrumentals as heard on some of the biggest hits of those years, the trio showed the country they weren’t only adept in one style, but could take it to the dungeons of rap, where fake… you know the rest.
Manu WorldStar “Young African Story” (2019)
For the title track of Manu WorldStar’s Young African Story EP, Ganja Beatz gave the artist an open-ended beat. The pop star in Manu came out and the beat allowed him to spit a few bars, too. “Young African Story” is sophisticated in its simplicity—its musicality will allow for easier interpretation by a live band. It’s the combination of electronic and organic instrumentation that makes it the perfect backdrop for a sketch of an uplifting young African story.
Cassper Nyovest “Tsibip” (2014)
For Cassper Nyovest’s “Tsibip”, Ganja Beatz took inspiration from kwaito super-producer M’du. Apart from the kwaito influence, by way of the bassline and wobbly rhythm, the sampled kwaito star’s adlib from his song “Ok’salayo” lingers around in the hook as if to give guidance. A selection of synths that vary in texture and go on- and off-focus sweeten what’s already a solid beat. Some of Cassper Nyovest’s best rapping is found on this song, he had no choice, the instrumental demanded it.
YoungstaCPT “Wes-Kaap” (2016)
On “Wes-Kaap”, a slow-burning instrumental that is more 90s kwaito than anything else sounds at home both in a Low Rider in CPT (both Cape Town and Compton) and a Gusheshe in Soweto. The trio deploys the disco synth that became synonymous to kwaito—it was used by the likes of Arthur Mafokate, M’du and Spikiri in the 90s—to create a song that is dominantly kwaito with a West Coast g-funk bounce. The beat is catchy on its own, and YoungstaCPT’s flow and hook added a few more strings with which the beat controls the listener’s movements like a puppet.
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Riky Rick “Nafukwa” (2014)
The beat for Riky Rick’s smash hit “Nafukwa” is dramatic—it suffocates its listeners with an eardrum-shattering bassline before it gives them space to breathe when equally dramatic horns and muffled organ keys dominate. 808 drums and high-time hi-hats give the beat a street-centric character. A beat as big as this one could have only resulted in a street anthem that doesn’t only inspire a mosh pit but has mainstream appeal.
Cassper Nyovest “Gusheshe” (2013)
Airy pads wander around aimlessly a recurring synth line on “Gusheshe”. But it wouldn’t be a Ganja Beatz production if it ended there. You may or may have not noticed that the trio’s productions always have complex arrangements: the beat can get reduced in a short space of time, forcing whoever’s rapping to get creative, in turn making for a dynamic song. On “Gusheshe”, a droning synth line bolsters the bassline when the rest of the beat’s channels are emptied. The result is a beat that allows Cassper Nyovest and OkMalumKoolKat to spit sparse lines without worrying about leaving awkwardly empty spaces between them.
Nasty C (ft. Tshego) “I Lie” (2016)
For Nasty C’s “I Lie” from the rapper’s debut album Bad Hair, Ganja Beatz collated an assortment of strings that stand on a strong bassline. High pitched sinewy synths persevere in the background of an already full beat. But because every layer was placed strategically, what could have been an overkill became a beautiful mess.
Tumi ft. Tribal “Too Long” (2016)
A rumbling bassline hovering through a breeze of pads makes up most of this progressive boom bap production. The instrumental’s minimalist nature points to a trio with great judgment—sometimes little is more. “Too Long” could have made for a light-hearted summer song, but Stogie T had other plans—letting off a boastful tirade at the industry and calling rappers to order.
J Molley “Never Know” (2017)
Right after the thematically ominous “Suicidal Thoughts (Interlude)” on J Molley’s debut EP Dreams Money Can Buy, the singer decided to overdose on egomania on “Never Know”. He reminds you that he isn’t ordinary, with lines like, “They don't compare me to you/ I am too much of a star/ Why would I shoot for the moon?/ Only eighteen, I'm way too out of my league.” But to maintain the EP’s overall somber mood, he picked an instrumental that’s equal parts moody and menacing. A dark cloud of bass is only decorated by a silver lining of synth lines drenched in reverb. Ganja Beatz managed to make a full instrumental without packing too many layers—easy, right? Dare your fave to try it.
Kwesta “Preacher” (ft. Nota) (2016)
For “Preacher”, a deep cut from Kwesta’s 2016 album DaKAR II, the trio assembled screeching horns, eerie keys and pads over a pounding bassline. Elements get stacked together as the song progresses as if to intensify the plot. Kwesta finishes off what’s already a job well-done with scathing social commentary delivered with the conviction the instrumental begs for.