
Blue Notes for Bra Louis: The final beat of a jazz revolutionary
Louis Moholo-Moholo performing at The Orbit in Johannesburg on 25 May 2017. Photo by Siphiwe Mhlambi.
Free jazz flowed through the streets of Langa when visiting the Moholo family home. Outside in the courtyard facing the street, Louis Tebogo Moholo-Moholo and his late wife Ma Mpumi would sit with visitors armed with a sound system and a speaker blasting some of the wildest avant-garde music at high volumes. People walking in the street would come in to greet, while children were in and out of the yard, often being handed sweets.
The drummer — revolutionary, mentor and friend to many — died on the morning of Friday 13 June at the age of 85, sending sadness echoing throughout the jazz world. Bra Louis, or Bra Tebz as he was often fondly referred to, was one of the greatest musicians in the world. He lived with energy; a vibrant and fiery spirit that never stopped fighting for freedom and for uplifting the people of South Africa. Those lucky enough to watch him perform over seven decades witnessed an intense passion that embodied freedom in every way.
'Yes baby, no baby!' he would often shout while playing, which audiences would shout back.
He was also very stylish with his Fedora hats and cool T-shirts (some of which he painted himself).
'We love you, we love you, you don't have to love us, but we love you!' was another famous saying.
These signature chants were known worldwide, as Moholo's reach was far beyond what we might imagine. He lived and breathed music, in every possible way.
Louis Moholo-Moholo performing at Guga S'thebe in his community of Langa in 2018. Photo: Terence Visagie.
The Blue Notes
'That band was made in heaven,' is what Moholo would say when talking about The Blue Notes, one of the finest bands in South African history, the members of which all died in exile. He was the last remaining one.
Moholo was born on 10 March 1940 in Langa, Cape Town. The street where the family lived was home to several musicians, including the great Christopher 'Columbus' Ngcukana.
Langa is one of the oldest townships in the country, which bred many great artists, such as Brenda Fassie.
He started playing drums as a child, after being inspired by marching bands, and later joined the Young Rhythm Chordettes. Moholo was mentored by musicians like Cups Nkanuka, who also lived in Langa and took many musicians in the 1950s under his wing. Apartheid laws oppressed black musicians, and in
That same year, he left South Africa with The Blue Notes, made up of bassist Johnny Dyani, trumpeter Mongezi Feza, pianist Chris McGregor, and saxophonists Nikele Moyake and Dudu Pukwana. The band was invited to play at the Antibes Festival in France and what was initially a temporary departure became permanent exile. They moved to Zürich in Switzerland and played at the Club Africana, assisted by Abdullah Ibrahim and Sathima Bea Benjamin.
The Blue Notes playing at the Antibes Festival in France in 1964, after first leaving South Africa.
The band then moved to London, after an invitation to appear at Ronnie Scott's. They were hugely influential on the British jazz scene. The
The Blue Notes embodied an attitude of revolution — it showed through their music and the way they lived. Moholo later continued with Brotherhood of Breath (led by Chris McGregor), and was the bandleader of The Dedication Orchestra, Viva La Black and 4 Blokes.
In her biography, influential Swiss free jazz pianist Irène Schweizer —who died last year — describes at length Moholo's influence on her. She met him at Club Africana in 1964, when the Blue Notes landed in Zürich, and performed with him throughout his life.
In the book, Moholo is quoted as saying on arriving in Zürich, 'We gave the audience the satisfaction of that high-level music, because this band was made in heaven. So unlucky that they all died; it's like I have been fired from the band and I think maybe they're having a big, big show in heaven!'
A life well lived
Life in exile was tough, with setbacks such as surviving without a passport or having a drumkit lost. But Moholo had a champion spirit and kept playing through the struggle. He has played on hundreds of records — the true figure is not known.
Every time we sat together to listen to music, he would pull out a new album that he had recorded with someone somewhere in the world. Throughout his career, he played with celebrated musicians of the free jazz world like Cecil Taylor, Archie Shepp, Keith Tippett, Wadada Leo Smith, Evan Parker, Stan Tracey, Alexander Hawkins, Irène Schweizer, Enrico Rava, Roswell Rudd, Peter Brötzmann, Derek Bailey, John Tchicai, Saadet Türköz and more.
In October 1969, jam session with Frank Zappa, Philly Joe Jones, Earl Freeman, Louis Moholo-Moholo, Johnny Dyani, Grachan Moncur and Archie Shepp at the Festival Actuel in Amougies, Belgium. Photo: Jacques Bisceglia (Supplied by family).
A programme for the UK's Bracknell Festival from 1979 quotes British music journalist Steve Lake saying, 'Louis draws rhythms out of nowhere, brings a sense of cohesion and righteous logic to the most uncompromising free blowing, even while stoking the excitement to almost unbelievable plateaux of intensity. His intuitive balance — between control and intensity — is very rare: most drummers possess either one quality or the other.'
Moholo played mostly in the UK, but also all over Europe, and even lived in Argentina. A friend in Italy, Riccardo Bergerone, describes that once, while on tour with Viva La Black in 1989 in Turin, Moholo had a heart attack on stage. He had health issues over the years but was not one to dwell on serious things.
In September 2005, he returned to South Africa with Ma Mpumi, and though the couple could live in an upmarket suburb in Cape Town, they missed Langa and opted to return.
It was through visits to his home that we cemented a friendship that would last for his remaining years.
He loved drinking rooibos tea and had a penchant for sweet things like chocolate cake and peanut butter.
Ma Mpumi and Louis Moholo-Moholo at a performance. Photo: Supplied by the family.
One of the most captivating things about watching Moholo on stage was how he did not care who musicians were or how old you were, as long as you could play.
'Play, man! Play!' he would sometimes urge younger band members, insisting that they give everything they had to the music — a defiant spirit dedicated to the sound.
In 2019, Moholo played one of his last gigs at Guga S'thebe in Langa.
For many years after, he struggled to walk and could no longer play, but in his head, he was always composing or singing, and always listening.
In times when he was bed-ridden, we would gather, just like in the courtyard but now in his bedroom, where he would listen to many albums — very loudly. Musicians from all over the world would come to visit him. On his playlist often were free jazz tunes, and repeatedly music by Abbey Lincoln, in particular the songs They Call it Jazz, Skylark and Through the Years (composed by Bheki Mseleku). And often, accompanied by a spliff of sorts, Moholo would sing and croon the words.
It is impossible to capture Moholo's life in one article — he lived large and beautifully — and will be remembered by all who knew him.
UK musician Shabaka Hutchings says: 'We've lost a giant of creative music in the passing of Louis Moholo-Moholo, one of those elders who have lived a life in service of sound and energy and feeling…I learnt so much from this man that it's difficult to fully articulate the lessons passed down…I remember the last tour we did with him, supporting him as he walked onto stage whispering, 'Yes baby, no baby, yes baby, no baby,' as he hyped us all into that subtle dance we were preparing to engage.'
Shabaka Hutchings, Louis Moholo-Moholo, Tumi Mogorosi and Siyabonga Mthembu performing with Shabaka and the Ancestors in 2017, Photo: Eitan Prince.
For his contributions to music, he received several awards including a
What happened to the Blue Notes in the end? Moyake had returned to South Africa in 1965, and died a year later. Feza died in London in 1975 (at only 30 years old), and the remaining band members recorded the tribute album, Blue Notes for Mongezi. Dyani died in 1986 in Berlin, Germany, and another tribute album was made titled Blue Notes for Johnny. McGregor died in 1990 and a month later, Pukwana. For all his bandmates, Moholo released an album, For the Blue Notes, in 2014.
Now with his death as the final note, we can honour his life, music, humour and long-standing influence as Blue Notes for Louis Moholo-Moholo.
Bra Louis's death is a massive loss for us but there is comfort in knowing that he is reunited with his family, Ma Mpumi and his beautiful band — all of whom he loved so much.
____________
**Louis Moholo-Moholo's funeral will be held on 28 June 2025.
Hashtags

Try Our AI Features
Explore what Daily8 AI can do for you:
Comments
No comments yet...
Related Articles

The Herald
3 hours ago
- The Herald
Benno's back at the fest
At 50, Durban-based performer and comedian Ben Voss doubted whether anyone would want to see him back on the National Arts Festival stage. 'I've been a bit trepidatious,' he said. 'You hit 50 and you're like, am I relevant at all any more?' But his new one-man show, Becoming Benno , is so, so, funny. 'This is a show I've written from my heart,' he said. 'I haven't been back since 2019 and I wondered if people would still be interested. 'Art is valuable if you are doing it, but even more valuable if people see it.' The award-winning performer, known to many for his work as the satirical Beauty Ramapelepele, or his Green and Black Mamba comedy shows, which came to the festival over the years, is now performing as a version of himself caught between his SA roots and a new life in Australia. This premise has become a sort of local joke. Saffas longing to fly off into the Aussie sunset for the promise of a safer, better-governed utopia. Was it Trevor Noah who did the 'that's it, I'm moving to Australia' high-pitched woman's voice skit that went viral? Though Becoming Benno also looks at this split, he likes to think it's not running away from a home you hate, but carrying that SA flavour with you to the newer pastures. 'The show is about this dual personality,' he explained. 'One foot in SA, one foot in Australia, and caught in no-man's-land between two cultures. 'Do you want to run away from home, or are you moving towards something else? 'Are you abandoning your life, or just creating new options?' The show was developed as part of his application for a global talent visa to Australia, which he received with much gratitude in 2024. 'It was after the riots in Durban. I started writing this show and thinking about the 400-plus people dead in the streets, which shocked me as someone with a 10-year-old daughter.' Voss reached out to legendary satirist Pieter-Dirk Uys for a reference letter needed in the application process, and two lines in the email made him relook at the show's concept. 'He wrote the letter and in the email said: 'You've just got to be clear about what you are doing.' He's not interested in people running away from SA, he's interested in people who are running towards something else. 'SA is not something to run away from,' he said. 'It is a beautiful place and it's built an entire career for me. 'If you are lucky enough to have the chance, immigration can be about carrying the torch forward. 'That is what this has been for me.' Voss has deep ties to the Eastern Cape. He credits the National Arts Festival with launching his career. 'There is an earthiness to Eastern Cape people that works. 'The festival really set me up. The unpretentious nature of the theatre I do, which speaks to the Gqeberha and East London crowd, I think they get that.' After beginning work on the show in early 2024, Voss shared a draft with a few trusted colleagues, including John van de Ruit, Steven Stead and Schalk Bezuidenhout. Their feedback helped him reshape the script into something more grounded and authentic. 'They thought it was too stand-up,' Voss said. 'Schalk loved it. John thought I was rehashing old gags. He pushed me to make it more honest.' Van de Ruit, author of the popular Spud book series and second half of the Mamba comedies, came on as dramaturge through the process, and veteran of the arts Michael Richard came on board to guide rehearsals for its first runs in Johannesburg before the Adelaide festival in Australia in February. Becoming Benno runs at the Victoria Theatre in Makhanda until July 5.


Mail & Guardian
3 hours ago
- Mail & Guardian
Sbusiso Jaxa's Tuneroyalty and the fight for independent artistry
Sbusiso Jaca developed the Tuneroyalty platform where musicians can upload their work, control their rights and get their fans to invest in their careers. (Photo: Siphesihle Nene '95) There's something deeply spiritual about the way sound travels through the South African landscape. You hear it in the hum of taxi radios, the spontaneous harmonies at train stations, the Sunday gospel flooding township streets. Ours is a country where music isn't background noise, it's testimony. It tells of struggle, joy, survival and, above all, resilience. But somewhere between the studio and the spotlight, too many South African artists get lost. Their dreams are muted by exploitative contracts, drowned by lack of access and discarded by a system that often doesn't care who makes the music, only who profits from it. That's the world Sbusiso Jaca saw — and it shook him. 'I started off as a music producer,' he recalls. 'Working with upcoming artists around KwaZulu-Natal — mostly independent ones. 'What I saw was painful.' Painful, not because of a lack of talent — there's no shortage of that. The pain came from watching brilliant young creatives with no money for music videos, no marketing budget, sometimes not even the R300 needed to distribute their music online. In a country with soaring unemployment, this was more than a career issue. It was an economic crisis. 'Even when artists do get signed,' Jaca explains, 'they walk away with just 10% or 15% of what their music earns.' That is not a deal. That is dispossession. From this frustration, Jaca did what many South Africans do best: he innovated. He built Tuneroyalty, a homegrown tech platform that allows independent artists to upload their songs, maintain control of their rights and invite their fans to invest in their careers. 'We needed something built for us, by us,' he says. 'Americans and Europeans have platforms tailored to their music industries. We didn't. So we built one.' On Tuneroyalty, artists can choose how much of their music rights — be it publishing, master or composer rights — they want to offer. Fans can buy into these rights, sometimes for as little as R100, and become stakeholders in the song's success. 'Imagine if we had invested in [by Mandoza's] Nkalakatha when it first came out,' Jaca says. 'That song is generational. What we're building is a way for fans to be part of the legacy — from the beginning.' This isn't just about streaming. It's about structural power. It's about rewriting the rules of who gets to win. One of the groundbreaking aspects of Tuneroyalty is its use of artificial intelligence (AI), not to replace artists, but to protect them. 'The biggest issue is a lack of knowledge,' Jaca says. 'Many artists don't even know how to register their music properly. That's where labels take advantage.' Tuneroyalty's AI chatbot, trained on South African legal knowledge and music industry best practices, walks artists through the process of song registration, contract review and royalty structures. It even scans contracts for potential loopholes, an affordable legal safety net for those who can't afford traditional lawyers. And the AI isn't just smart, it's local. It understands the slang, the genres, the legal frameworks here, not in LA or London. 'This is technology that speaks amapiano,' Jaca laughs. 'Not corporate-ese.' The emergence of platforms like Tuneroyalty hasn't gone unnoticed by traditional institutions like the Southern African Music Rights Organisation (Samro). As the regulatory body responsible for administering performance royalties in South Africa, it has long been the gatekeeper of the music economy. In a formal response to questions about AI-powered platforms like Tuneroyalty, the organisation acknowledged the shift. 'Samro is dedicated to safeguarding the rights of music creators and copyright owners,' it says. 'We're actively adapting to technological trends, including AI, while ensuring our members benefit first.' Samro emphasises that its systems already integrate audio fingerprinting and global metadata tracking. They're not standing still but they're cautious about decentralised models. 'Fan investment complicates royalty splits,' Samro notes. 'If not documented properly, it can cause delays or disputes.' More importantly, Samro highlights that bypassing collective management organisations can result in missed income from live venues, international reciprocal agreements and broadcasting rights. Still, there's recognition that change is inevitable. 'Technology and AI-driven tools are not avoidable,' Samro concedes. 'But they must be regulated to preserve human authorship and ensure fair remuneration.' Where Jaca sees a movement, Samro sees a maze of legal complications. 'Until independent platforms demonstrate compatibility with verified metadata standards,' the organisation explains, 'collaboration remains difficult.' There are regulatory challenges to South Africa's copyright legislation, last updated in 1978, which doesn't account for AI, decentralisation or even the complexities of fan-based ownership models. But reform is underway. Samro is lobbying for clearer legislation on AI authorship, digital royalties, and platform accountability. 'We're working with lawmakers,' its statement says. 'This has to be done right.' While Tuneroyalty is rooted in South Africa, its vision stretches across the continent. Many African artists, from Lagos to Nairobi, face similar challenges — limited infrastructure, poor access to capital and exploitative label deals. 'We're starting here because we know this struggle,' Jaca says. 'But the goal is Africa.' His dream is to scale the model across the continent, using South African lingo, legal precedent and lived experience as the foundation. 'It doesn't talk like an overseas AI,' he smiles. 'It speaks our language.' For Jaca, justice isn't abstract. It's hyper-specific: 'Justice looks like a kid from a township, using a slow old Pentium 4 computer and pirated software, who makes a hit. He doesn't sign a bad deal. He uploads it to our platform. Sells 10% to fans. Gets legal advice from AI. And owns everything.' That's the dream. Not to fight the industry with protests but with platforms. Not to destroy legacy structures but to render them optional. 'One day,' Jaca says, 'that same artist might buy the label.' Samro isn't ignoring the wind of change. The organisation has modernised its licensing with digital platforms such as TikTok, Spotify and Netflix. It has also implemented AI tools to streamline its royalty distribution, all while participating in global networks like the International Confederation of Societies of Authors and Composers to influence international policy. But it also maintains its role as protector of legacy revenue — radio, TV, public performances — income sources that independent platforms often overlook. 'Our priority is transparency, efficiency, and creator-first advocacy.' Still, as more artists gain digital tools to manage their rights, Samro must adapt, not just technically, but philosophically. The future is not either/or — it's both/and. When we talk about music, we often speak of hits, charts and fame. But behind every great South African song is a story of sacrifice and of long walks to dusty studios of late nights and borrowed beats. 'I remember Nasty C talking about how he used to walk long distances just to record,' Jaca says. 'That's the reality. Labels don't understand that kind of pain.' Tuneroyalty is a bridge to dignity, to ownership, to legacy. It says: 'If you've carried the beat this far, you deserve the rewards that come after.' And Samro, for all its formality, seems to be listening. So, here we are, standing at the threshold of a new soundscape. One where artists don't need permission to release, don't need to be discovered to succeed and don't need to sell their souls to survive. As Jaca puts it: 'If we can't own land, let us own our music.' And maybe that's enough. Maybe music is land. Maybe it's inheritance. Maybe it's our last claim to something truly ours. Either way, the message is clear— the beat will go on but this time, it's on our terms.

IOL News
19 hours ago
- IOL News
Louis Moholo's tangible legacy will benefit generations of musicians
Drummer Louis Moholo was the sole surviving member of The Blue Notes and the Brotherhood of Breath. Unlike many of his bandmates, he was able to return to the new South Africa to perform. THE biography of Louis Tebogo Moholo is in many respects the narrative of the modern jazz movement in South Africa. It is also the tale of a specific group of extremely talented South African musicians who, after their departure from these shores, left an indelible imprint specifically on the Avant Garde school in modern jazz, associated with the musicians who emerged during the mid-sixties. But central to that story is an individual musician, Louis Tebogo Moholo. Louis Tebogo Moholo was born at St Monica's Hospital in Cape Town to Christian Moholo and his wife Dorah Moholo, on 10th March 1940. He passed away at home in Langa, on the morning of 13th June 2025. Growing up as a young musician in Cape Town during the 1950s must have been an exciting time. As South Africa's oldest port city, Cape Town and the people who live and have lived here for centuries had been impacted on by virtually every cultural and intellectual current in the evolving modern world. Louis Moholo was raised in an urban African working-class community that had developed over decades here in the Western Cape. Many of the Africans who arrived in Cape Town during the 1800s and early 1900s, first settled in District Six before they were forcibly removed to Ndabeni during the 1920s. All over the Cape Peninsula there were other pockets of African communities: in Kensington; in Blouvlei near Retreat; in Elsies River; in Athlone; Crawford. Simon's Town was effectively part of Cape Town though it is another municipality. In most of these communities, regionally based homeboy networks formed the basis of rugby, soccer, cricket, tennis and other sports clubs. It was in music that such affiliations appeared less significant. In the bands, what counted was musical skill and talent, not one's region of origin. Langa township spawned a number of dance bands of a highly differentiated quality. An old urbanite, like Christopher Columbus Ngcukana - 'Mra'- the late saxophone great, was renowned for his ability to listen to the songs of the migrant housed in the hostels on the outskirts of Langa, note them down, first in tonic solfa, then to transcribe them into staff notation. There were others of his stature, playing with the Merry Max, the State-lite and smaller units. A truly modernist ethos developed amongst such musicians enabling them to also break through the racial barriers imposed by the system of white domination. There was a very rich cultural life both within, and during the 1950s, between the artificially divided racial communities. Mixed bands of African and Coloured musicians had developed in District Six, Kensington, Athlone and Elsies River. By the late 1950s and early sixties, a handful of courageous white musicians could also be found among them. One of these was Chris McGregor. Modern jazz, like many other musical genres, came to our country through radio, the concert and dance hall, and of course, records. Tebs liked joking when he recalled the sort of barbs and slights he and others suffered from the more seasoned players during their molting years. The small venues, all of them outside the townships, where they performed offered spaces that the racist laws of the time considered illegal. Interaction among music lovers and musicians of differing races broke apartheid law. Apartheid had the ironic effect of politicising even actions undertaken with no political purpose. The very act of playing in a band made up of Africans, Coloureds and whites amounted to a political statement, whether one intended to or not. Tebogo's first band was composed of young Cape Town musicians who called themselves 'The Chordettes'. We next hear of him backing other musicians on club dates here in Cape Town. He hit the national scene at the 1962 Jabavu Jazz Festival in Johannesburg where he performed with the Jazz Ambassadors, led by Cups Nkanuka's. He joined the Blue Notes in 1963. That turned out to be a most profoundly formative experience that also launched him on an international career. The Blue Notes, comprising Dud Pukwana on the alto-sax; Nick Moyakhe on tenor; Mongezi Feza on pocket trumpet; Chris McGregor on piano, Sammy Maritz on bass and Louis Moholo on drums was the rage of the South African Jazz scene. Johnny Dyani replaced Maritz on bass before the group went abroad. His associates in the Blue Notes became a permanent feature of Louis's musical career, though he sought out and played with numerous bands during an impressive musical career. Arriving on the jazz scene at a seminal moment in its evolution was both a challenge and opportunity for the group of young men who left South Africa for the Antibes Jazz Festival, France in 1964. During the late 1940s, the Be-Bop pioneered by Thelonious Monk, Charlie Parker, Dizzy Gillespie and others had revolutionised the jazz idiom. In their small bands, the rhythm section acquired greater significance as Afro-Cuban, Afro-Brazilian and indigenous African percussions were more aggressively integrated into it. Before the American Civil War (1861-65), on the plantations in the non-Catholic states of North America, the drum was absolutely forbidden! Slave owners and their governments considered it an intrinsically subversive musical instrument because its sound could transcend space. Because its sound could break the bounds of distance the drum was capable of nurturing bonds of solidarity amongst the enslaved, the indispensable ingredient of united action. The enslaved Africans were forbidden from owning and playing drums. One might speculate why this was the instrument Louis Moholo chose to play and to master. His good fortune was that he was ripe for an age when the drum was being emancipated by the creativity and genius of masters. The names associated with it – Kenny Clarke, Art Blakey, Max Roach, Philly Joe Jones; Elvin Jones – are easily recognised among game changers in modern jazz. But those who truly broke out of the constraints of keeping time behind the reeds and brass, were figures like Jack DeJohnette, Sonny Murray, Ed Blackwell, Charles Moffat and our own lad from Langa township, Louis Tebogo Moholo. With the arrival of these musicians, the role of the drum was to provide rhythm and not merely to keep time. Louis Tebogo Moholo was voted the best drummer in Europe on repeated occasions. The African Drum Ensemble he put together in 1974 stunned the audience at the Round House. Along with the other South African artists in exile, Louis and his colleagues made their own contribution to the liberation struggle. In addition to the 'benefit gig' to raise money, the name Tebogo and Dudu Pukwana chose for their band, 'The Spear' was a conscious tribute to Mkhonto weSizwe. Their compositions too spoke the language of the liberation movement, beginning with that spirited rendition of 'Wathint' amaDoda -Don't Stir the Beehive' in their first album, 'Very Urgent', recorded in London in 1968. By the early 1970s their names and their music was widely known all over Western Europe, and helped throw open the doors of opportunity for the South African instrumentalists who arrived in Europe later that decade. The members of the Blue Notes, collectively and individually, made an important cultural statement in the unfolding Free Jazz movement. Tebogo, who survived his colleagues, is perhaps the one who proved most versatile during those tough years in exile. Apart from his unfortunate sojourn in Argentina, Louis availed himself of every opportunity life afforded him to play with the most audacious musical innovators in Britain and Europe. In addition to the sheet anchor groups he rooted himself in – the Brotherhood of Breath, The Spear and the Blue Notes - he was an important figure in the Mike Osborne Trio. He played in Tentacles, a quartet led by the pianist Stan Tracy and he enjoyed a long fruitful relationship with the Swiss pianist, Irene Schweizer. There are also the quartets, quintets and sextets led by tenor saxophonist, Evan Parker. Elton Dean, Harry Miller Sean Bergin and his other associates in London and Europe all relied heavily on him as the centre of their rhythm sections. He played with the leftist Paul Rutherford - who called his band the Iskratra - on numerous occasions and led bands of his own, beginning with a big band in 1971. Later came the Dedication Orchestra, in which he assembled the cream of Britain's Avant Garde and brought to South Africa. Viva la Black and Four Blokes were the last bands he personally led. German, Dutch, Italian and American musicians have all benefitted from performing alongside this native son of Cape Town. Perhaps the longest musical relationship he developed after the dissolution of the Brotherhood of breath, was with Keith Tippet, a rare British talent of Irish descent who features in his big bands and in more intimate bands. Louis Moholo's talent and musical achievements earned him numerous awards, first in Britain and Europe, then the Americas, and finally, post 1994, here at home. His discography reflects not only what he sought to give permanence, but also his extensive ecumenical collaborations with others. Louis Moholo has also left his country a tangible legacy, to memorialise the Blue Notes. Funds accumulated from the exertions of these talents have been used to establish the BLUE NOTES MEMORIAL FUND, administered by the South African College of Music here at UCT. Apart from what they themselves created, Louis has passed the baton on, to generations of future musicians who will benefit from that bursary. As we mourn the loss of a great South African musician, we also celebrate a life of impressive musical achievement. Wherever Louis Tebogo Moholo played his music, he represented South Africa well! He represented the city of his birth, Cape Town, extremely well. We are justly very proud of him. Tsamaya sentle Moholo! Tsamaya sentle motlhankawa waÁfrika!