In Conversation with Leomile

I tend to catch on fast to the latest tools and advancements in this crazy modern world of ours, but I will be the first to admit that I might have caught on slightly late with online music streaming, but when I did, Leomile‘s Pula Molomo was one of the first albums’ I streamed. The music and subsequently the artist became objects of my fascination and I have since followed Leomile trajectory closely from that point onwards.

In anticipation of her now released Nevermind. EP, I had a full circle moment when I got to speak with Leomile about the different points of her career thus far in built up to current point and project. Read below as she lets us in to some of her creative processes and industry struggles.

What was the thinking behind the debut album Pula Molomo and how has your perspective changed from the making of that project to the current one?

For the debut album Pula Molomo, I really wasn’t thinking too much about the audience at the time. I had been writing music my whole life, but it was during my time in university that I started writing more rigorously and really exploring my own identity and how I wanted to present myself. I had this strong urge to start writing in Sesotho, even though I was a bit afraid at first because I have such deep respect for the language and I wanted to make sure that I could do it justice. So I ended up collaborating with some really versatile jazz musicians, and their interpretation of the stripped down vocal and piano compositions I had written ended up giving the music this beautiful Afro-soul vibe. I wasn’t intentionally going for a specific sound – I was just following my curiosity to write in Sesotho as authentically as I could at the time. The final sound was really shaped by the musicians I was working with and how they chose to interpret the music.

Post Pula Molomo, you seemingly had a period of minimal industry movement, what was happening in the period between the debut album coming out and you subsequently “coming back into the music space”?

After my debut album came out, I went through a really difficult period mentally and emotionally. The lack of structure in the music industry, especially as an independent artist, took a huge toll on me. I don’t think I was fully prepared for all the demands of things like booking gigs, promoting the music, leading a band, and all the business side of it. Eventually, I ended up going back home, thinking it would just be a short break. But that one month turned into two, then three, and I just didn’t want to return to Johannesburg anymore.

I was still doing music though and would still participate in certain festivals here and there, but for the most part, my base was home, and I was not as active. I really needed that time away to reevaluate, to heal, and to figure out how I wanted to engage with the music and the industry going forward. It was a gradual process of restoration that happened over those few years. I started writing music as well. There’s a lot of music that I wrote in that time, some of which I think will probably be on my next project.

How did the collaboration with Maleh and the Bana ba Khoale project come about, and what did you take away from that experience?

The collaboration with Maleh on the Bana ba Khoale project was just a dream come true for me. People are always like, don’t meet your idols, but with Maleh it was different – she is such a warm and welcoming person, and we connected on such a deep level from the very first time we met for lunch. Initially, she had asked to meet as she was looking for writers and collaborators for her project, and it ended up being much more than that. I than had an opportunity through one of the funding initiatives to make a song and thought it’d be beautiful to come together with her for it.

It was such an organic, easy process – we just started jamming together and the song flowed so naturally. Having that collaborative experience with an artist that I truly admire was incredibly fulfilling and inspiring for me. Maleh really feels like a kindred spirit, and working with her was a full circle moment.

How has working with a collaboration agency such as ALT BLK helped with some of the industry difficulties you mentioned facing in your career?

I think the industry can be really lonely, and I guess, it also depends on the kind of personality you have. I think people with certain personalities really thrive, especially if you are an independent artist, because you need to be able to build relationships and networks. And not everyone is really savvy in that way. Some people are introverted and can only kind of mix into the small circles, and it becomes a heavy toll to be the artist, the socialite, and the networker, that can build all of these relationships and maintain them in order to leverage.

The support and connections I’ve gained through working with ALT BLK have been invaluable, especially in helping me navigate the loneliness that can come with being an independent artist in this industry. Having that network of like-minded creatives who prioritize the art and the artist’s wellbeing has made a huge difference and it’s just been so helpful in finding my way. They understand the challenges I’ve faced, and they provide that sense of community that can be so hard to come by. And also, I think having someone like Msaki who really has walked a similar path, provides a wealth of knowledge that you can tap into to help guide how to approach certain things.

Does Litsomo come from connections built through ALT BLK?

Not at all, it happened in its own very unique way. I don’t know how well you know Muneyi, but he is, even though he claims he’s an introvert, a socialite of note. He has his finger on the pulse of music in general, in South Africa. And he’s always very interested in jamming with whoever is making music that he gravitates towards. So Litsomo started with Muney and I just jamming. It was cute and a little awkward, because we didn’t know each other that well, but over time, we developed this really strong friendship.

At some point I had a gig in Cape Town and invited Muneyi, and he came with Kekelingo as well, and we did a beautiful three way set with each of us jamming on the other’s songs. It was an organic thing that has also allowed us to leverage on each other’s audiences over time as well. I feel there’s also this very, cosmic thread that runs through our music. All of us are just curious about language and telling these folklores and and so it was just a very organic meeting of like-minded people from very different parts of the world.

You worked on two children themed projects prior to now releasing Nevermind – how did that come about?

Both the children’s music projects I worked on were actually commissioned by Platoon, but it’s something I’ve really resonated with. There’s just something so special about tapping into that sense of youthfulness and playfulness. It was a bit daunting at first because I felt this weight of responsibility to create something meaningful for young minds. But ultimately, it’s been such a healing and fun process. I think channeling that inner child energy has definitely influenced the more personal work I’m doing now with Nevermind.

Can you talk about the cover art for Nevermind. and why you chose John Baloy to do it?

When it came to the cover art for Nevermind., I knew I wanted to work with John Baloy. Obviously, he doesn’t exclusively work on film, but he does enjoy working on film and he has a very specific style. When I looked at his photography, there was just a match between his visual-like style and identity, and how the songs sounded to me, like a nostalgia, a kind of grainy indie vibe. I had to really fight for him to be the one, because our schedules didn’t initially align. But I’m so glad I persisted, because the final cover is just iconic.

And the interesting thing is that the cover in question was not even supposed to be the EP cover, the images where I was in the garden with the flowers on the single cover (see below) was supposed to be the EP cover shoot. . He just happened to capture all the looks that I did on that day and the eventual cover just instantly caught my eye.

The title track “Nevermind” is tracklisted last on the EP – is this story line related?

Placing the title track “Nevermind” at the end of the EP was a very intentional choice. I wanted the EP to be a journey that leads up to that final point of resolution or acceptance. “Nevermind” really encapsulates the theme of a failed love, and I wanted the listener to arrive there after experiencing the full emotional arc.

Your music has a distinct layering of harmonies, this is evident too on the new project, how intentional is this in the song making process?

It’s intuitive. It’s how I hear the music and I think it also does have to do with the songwriting process. I can hardly play an instrument and so my process starts with just me and my voice, hence I harmonize the other voices that I am hearing. At time the harmonizing is also to imitate other instruments and to give a baseline of sorts. I did also grow up listening to a lot of folk and country music that my dad loved and that too had a lot of harmonizing.

Who plays guitar on the project?

Tessa Lilly plays on all but the first song and also co-composed and produced with me on the EP. She is a large part of this EP coming to life. She happened to be in a creative space where she was open to collaborating amongst the many other things she gets up to and I think in collaborating on this she also allowed me to explore without fear. She also brought a really specific feel to the EP with her distinct guitar playing style.

What can the audience expect from the EP?

I love how stripped down and vulnerable the EP is. It’s raw and sensible. It feels as though we are in a quiet room where I get to tell my story, with some lush harmonies. It’s warm and layered with elements of dreaminess from the guitar and vocals with not much percussion, it would be a nice road trip play.

Narrative wise it is the art of failed love that follows different perspectives, trying to make it work, recognizing when it’s not, learning to be vulnerable and breaking your walls. Ultimately, it’s about how our relationships mirror us back to ourselves and how once we see ourselves we are empowered on which parts of ourselves we want to champion and which we want to refine, further grow and heal. It’s also a story about rebirth.