The Problem With Andy Muridzo

It is 00:08 after midnight.

The venue is Mutare’s Pick and Save complex.

A few furlongs away from a cold misty marsh in a rivulet that breaks the hymen of the city of Mutare separating it into two disproportionate parts. The river emits the mists of the ghosts of nature sending a chill across the eastern city.

It is the witching hour.

There is a man. A boy. Perhaps an apparition that is in a trance on the stage at businessman Esau Mupfumi’s complex.

It isn’t a human ‘thing’ on the stage although when ‘it’ went on stage, it had assumed the person of rising (and sadly falling) crooner Andy Muridzo who had gotten on stage with his Jeetaz Band ahead of a show by Jah Prayzah.

Andy Muridzo

The show descends into a mess.

In a twirl and a tangle of the spirits and man, Andy Muridzo is playing the thumb piano-the mbira, with a sophistry that only the gods can emulate, but only barely so. His eyes rolling in their sockets as if he is talking to the ancient gods of this magical Mountain Kingdom that Mutare is.

The gods that wrapped prospectors in the mist and swallowed the sacrilegious, never to be seen or heard from again.

He seems in touch with the divine. Andy Muridzo, when he is on stage, talks to the gods!

For all his ‘warts’ and misguided exploits of trying to outdo bottles by engaging in a misguided game of hide-the-sausage with errant dancer Beverly ‘Bev’ Sibanda, there is one thing that one cannot take away from Andy Muridzo Ngwenya.

When he jumps out of the sheets with Bev and does what he is meant to do-make music-he is arguably the biggest name to look out for in Zimbabwe’s music landscape no doubt.

Sending the walls and roof of Pick and Save in Mutare shivering at his artistry last weekend, Muridzo proved that with the right guidance he is a star that is awaiting the clouds to tear apart so he can shine again. Clouds sown by the Bev saga.

But you can never keep a good man down. Andy Muridzo’s vocals are the type that have the marks of all the holy spirits writing all over them. A voice that can break into a succulent smooth caramel cream and soothe the ears one minute, then go into gravelly and deathly hallow of a rough and unrefined Jamaican Ragga god the next, his vocals are his biggest strength.

And yet perhaps it is his facial expression when he is on stage. One minute in a trance playing traditional instruments like he is in the court of Munhumutapa and then looking expressionless as some of his band engage in their amazing entertainment antics, it is evident Andy is certainly magic waiting to happen.

And once he rides (no pun intended) the uncomfortable ride that ‘bottlegate’ has created for him and it dies down, Andy Muridzo (again no pun intended) will rise again. Hopefully this time rising for all the right reasons.

To err is human and what Andy needs now is belief, forgiveness and real support and mentoring.

The problem with Andy Muridzo is that he is ambitious and naughty and will challenge anything from human to bottle.

That is also his biggest strength. Because all genius is flawed!