“Fashion knows no gender” was, during his brief stint working there, Kalo Canterbury’s standardised response to patrons of Cape Town’s Corner Store enquiring about the availability of womenswear. It’s with the marketing campaigns of that booming retail culture-hub and his trademark sartorial sensibilities that many are likely to associate K-Dollahz (stylised ‘K-$’), an Athlone-born DJ on the come up who recently landed a prestigious gig at the ever-popular Cape Town Electronic Music Festival (CTEMF) set to take place on the weekend of 10-12 February. Some may know him from his colour-coded Instagram account: a conduit for consistent doses of comically indulgent vanity, a wardrobe comprised, almost exclusively, of sneakers and ‘menswear’, and wanton shit-talking about the mommies of his 2500+ followers. Kalo’s indisposition to the norm is striking, but more so are the subversive ends of their manifestations.
We arranged a morning rendez-vous at a coffee-shop near his Woodstock office. As of last week, he now 9-to-5s (from 10am to 6pm) at Black Major, having completed an internship with them while studying last year. He’s still learning the ropes of talent management but is finding his niche in helping to grow the brand of the leading management agency – which counts DJ Lag, Beatenberg, Bongeziwe Mabandla and Felix Laband on its roster – and those of the artists themselves. His formal marketing training at Red&Yellow was preceded by studies at UCT in Film & Media, and, somewhat surprisingly, Earth and Geographical Studies or ‘EGS’. After this journalist’s dry quip that he’d been subconsciously preparing for a groundbreaking career, his charmingly uninhibited amusement thereupon stood in contrast to his typically ice-cold online persona. But that didn’t surprise me, because a conversation with Kalo reveals that he views ‘K-$’ much like he views the artists with whom his job it is to build relationships: as a brand.
With this mindset, Kalo markets what seems to be a paradox at first glance: at once a braggadocious alter-ego and an honest glimpse into who he is and what he stands for. But these two poles are reconcilable when you consider the whole package. The K-$ persona was established only when he started DJing music that is deeply meaningful to him, experimenting with fashion and cultivating a look, and becoming comfortable with being queer. He realises that a lot of people won’t get his vibe, but citing the universal right to flex on social media, Kalo rationalises his hyper-confidence as a vehicle for backing himself and his friends. Accusations of genuine arrogance fall flat because his Insta-boasts smack of enviable self-love: the product of someone who has found themselves and who takes pride in that fact.
MULTIPLE YEARZ OF FUCCIN TIRELESS RESEARCH , COMPILING QUANTITATIVE & QUALITATIVE DATA IN A STUDY CONDUCTED BY A GANG OF IVY LEAGUE PROFESSORS HAS CONCLUSIVELY PROVEN THAT 100% OF UR GIRLFRIENDZ, WIVEZ, MOTHERZ, GRANDMAZ, AUNTIEZ N GENERAL WOMXN WID 1 OR MORE SENSES IN TACT FIND ME 2 B, QUOTE, ” PRETTY AZ FUCCCC ” !!!! NON-BINARY BABYDADDY AKA DISCO DOLLAHZ BEEN HAD ERRYBODY SHOOK, ON THEIR NERVES OR IN THEY FEELINZ FROM TIME G !!!! TELLEM GO SCREENSHOT ME ON @hypebeast IN MY @cornerstorecpt THREADZ, PRINT DAT SHIT N BRING IT 2 THA FUNCTION N SHIDDDD I MIGHT JUST SIGN THAT IN SILVER MARKER 💋 #KDOLLAHZ STYLIN: @exoticserpentslippers & @seraajxsemaar_95 PHOTO: @_kyleweeks_
Sartorially, Kalo’s image has been valuable to the aesthetic of Corner Store and the labels under its banner. Although he doesn’t do part-time behind the counter anymore, which helped him line his pockets before the DJ hustle began to bear fruit, you’ll still catch him on the decks at all their launch events. Ahead of the realisation curve that ‘real people’ are the new MVPs of clothing campaigns, he’s been a modelling fixture for Sol-Sol, Two Bop and Young & Lazy – labels run by close friends of his who craft gear he swears he’d be happy to die in. It’s fortunate, then, that they sponsor him. Even pseudo-Italian top-tier menswear outlet, Fabiani, earned some street cred thanks to his gender-blending swagger on one of their campaigns. At the end of 2015, Anees Petersen (creative director at Young & Lazy) worked as a stylist on the brand’s collaboration with Happy Socks and recruited his pal Kalo. Who would’ve thunk it – K-$, in all his idiosyncratic glory – for Fabiani? The campaign was a success, too, garnering a positive response from a wider audience than was expected. And it’s precisely this type of going against the grain, quietly dismissing the status quo, that colours his presence in the Cape Town music scene.
If CTEMF will be the first time you hear K-$ play, you’ll be in the festival-goer majority. He boldly entered the scene as a serious contender just a few months ago. The transition to legitimacy was an expedient one; so much so that he confessed genuine surprise at nabbing a CTEMF spot – his expectations projected a timeline that would only see him playing a gig of those proportions closer to 2020. Yet here he is. Evidently, his modesty in this regard is ill-founded, especially considering the sweet-spot he’s created for himself in a largely racially-divided Cape Town party scene. Having grown up spending most of his time in Athlone, Ottery, Belgravia and Greenhaven, before completing his secondary and tertiary education in the Southern Suburbs and the city bowl, Kalo’s identity is shaped by his varied cultural experience across the Mother City, which comes across tangibly in his presentation as a DJ.
Vol. 7 of Bubblegum Club‘s mix series
Playing classic R&B, disco and funk, K-$ is making a name for himself spinning tunes that he wished DJs would play when he started clubbing as a teenager – music on which he was reared (think Kool and the Gang and Earth, Wind & Fire). His passion for music found outlets from a young age in his family choir, which performed at weddings and funerals, and later by teaching marimbas as a fourteen year-old before learning how to play the guitar, bass and drums. At university, his foray into rapping, producing and DJing was considered fun with friends; it was only during his postgraduate studies that it dawned on him to pursue music as a career option.
Inspired by breakout local artists that he considers her peers – Angel-Ho, Queezy and Dope Saint Jude – the limelight on Kalo’s presence in the overall Cape Town and global scene, as a coloured, queer performer is valuable in and of itself. His affiliation with the 021-Lit collective speaks to a desire to dispel the predominance of exclusionary, pervasive whiteness in the city’s nightlife, but it’s his specific choice in music as a DJ that reaps an interesting dual-reward.
K-$ creates something of a sonic safe space for brown people in his audience by playing music that they probably grew up listening to at home. The inherent groove-worthiness of these songs, correctly curated, sets off a dance floor sans complication, while simultaneously recalling fond memories for people who share a common cultural upbringing. Others in the crowd are handed infinitely danceable numbers about love and friendship, and a concurrent musical education one won’t find elsewhere in a hurry, or as Kalo himself put it, “an idea of what our house-parties were like”. And he’s taking his game up a notch for CTEMF: while planning to throw out some commercial R&B and funk classics – “Gotta have that Dennis Edwards” – he also plans on dishing out some serious knowledge unto to the crowd with rarer numbers that even his parents’ generation wouldn’t be familiar with. But his esoteric musical knowledge aside, in a highly competitive market Kalo understands that nobody’s going to knock on his door and ‘discover’ him for his merits.
She swears by good marketing practice and philosophises accordingly: “Here I am. In your face. I’m gonna put myself out there. Either you fuck with me or you don’t.”
Catch K-$ at CTEMF 2017, taking place at Cape Town’s City Hall 10-12 Feb, with soon-to-be-confirmed workshops taking place in the week before, 7-10 Feb. Tickets here.