In Conversation with Una Rams
Una’s music is an invitation into his world—a place where vulnerability meets creativity, and where sound becomes a reflection of life’s deepest emotions.
Known for his genre-blending style and powerful storytelling, he has emerged as one of South Africa’s most exciting artists. With a mix of personal experiences and a desire to share his culture with the world, Una’s journey is one of growth, reinvention, and dedication to his craft.
In this interview, he opens up about the inspiration behind his music, the meaning behind his lyrics, and how he navigates the balance between staying true to himself and pushing boundaries in his art.
Who do you make music for?
It might sound a little vain, but I really make music for myself. I feel like, as you go through life, you’re able to do a lot more things you wish you could have done as a kid. So a lot of it feels like inner child healing, really. And to this day, music is like therapy for me. I’m able to express myself in ways I wouldn’t know otherwise, you know, I’m not a great painter, so it’s not like I can put my feelings to paper or canvas like that, but with music, I’m able to explore these dimensions. And it’s just a blessing, really, that it’s something I can share with the world, and it then transcends what I initially thought it was and becomes something to someone else. And I think that’s really beautiful.
You put a lot of thought into the entire creative package — from the music to the visuals and how the story is told. How important is that intentional “other” side of presenting your work?
I’m flattered that my intentionality is noticeable. I’ve always had a lot of interests—being both a software developer and a musician reflects that. If asked to choose between two passions, I’d likely choose both because I genuinely want to explore everything life has to offer. Even now, I’m drawn to architecture and construction and am waiting for the right moment to invest in a house to express that side of myself. To answer the question, everything I do is well thought out and feels like part of a story that needs to be told. My bio has been a long-running narrative across various platforms, and while I can’t always fully express it, I’m lucky to be part of a network of creatives who understand my vision. The process of creating music, especially with such an ambitious goal of introducing different genres and characters, feels incomplete without the full expression of the story. If we just dropped the music, the audience might not grasp what we’re doing—like switching from 80s R&B to Afro pop, for example. But when the story is told visually and through conversations, it makes more sense and is easier to digest. Given that many of these songs have existed for years, it’s even more exciting to finally share the work.
Is your versatility in music a reflection of your creative nature or intentional?
For me, the whole point of this is to have fun—that’s why I started sharing my music in the first place. Music is music. I remember a time when my brother Matt, who’s also my manager, and I were playing Spotify on shuffle. All sorts of music came on—house, jazz—and when a good song played, we’d just nod in agreement. If a wack song came on, we’d look at each other and skip it without a word. I often ask, how do you know music is good? The answer is simple: you just feel it. I’m operating on that level of feeling, honestly. Genre is something we created to define and understand music better, but for me, it’s not a wall that stops me from expressing who I am and what I love to do artistically.
You’ve had quite a few collaborations with upcoming TshiVenda artists lately. It’s clear the sound has grown beyond just Ven-rap. I remember a time when you performed back home, and the reception wasn’t great. But recently, with Gusba Banana at Royal Heritage Festival, it seemed like the energy has completely shifted. So, are you intentionally becoming more involved in making music in your mother tongue, or has that just naturally evolved for you?
There’s definitely intentionality behind it. At one point, it felt like global culture was becoming homogenized—everything had a very American feel. But with digital access, we’re seeing more online communities, and people are representing their own culture again. Making music in my own language feels like creating sonic museums, preserving phrases and idioms that could have been forgotten. When artists like Sho Madjozi, Mizo Phyll, and Makhadzi started making songs in Venda and Tsonga, it was a “whoa” moment for me. I realized we don’t have to be something we’re not—we can be proud of who we are. The event you mentioned was a turning point. Being booed and having bottles thrown at me on home turf was painful, but it was a wake-up call. I prayed, asking God for a sign, and that’s when the song Shy came about. That moment pulled me back into the music. I also realized people didn’t really know where I was from. I’ve got this peculiar accent, and I’m quite private, so there wasn’t a strong connection. I felt that if I was going to represent Venda, I needed something authentically Venda to represent with. That became the goal. It broke my heart seeing talented artists from Venda hit a ceiling. So I thought, if I’m in a position to take this national or international, why not take my brothers with me? That’s where the collaborations and the intentional narrative came from.
How did the Idris Elba collaboration come about?
I believe solely in serendipity. You know, there’s only so much we can plan, but my life is not going according to my plan—and that’s what I find beautiful about it. That collaboration came at a time when I was literally praying and asking God for a sign. Within three days, they reached out, and the process started. Even the Grammy was something I’ve always wanted, but I can’t say it came the way I anticipated or when I anticipated. It’s like God had these little surprises lined up for me, and all I have to do is keep walking.
Do you reinvent yourself each phase of your career?
I don’t think so. To be honest with you, every time I go to the studio, it’s like a surprise. I don’t necessarily like having a fixed plan on what we’re going to work on. I spoke about this earlier—serendipity, right? We’ll go into the studio, and whatever we create surprises even us. There are times when I’ve gone into the studio knowing that I might have three different projects I’m working on—one in the hip-hop sphere, another with alternative rock vibes, and another in R&B or traditional R&B. For me, it’s all about going in and having fun. I’ve read a book called The Six Thinking Hats, which talks about being aware of the role you’re supposed to play at any given time. There’s an exploration phase, where you’re literally creating with no boundaries, and then there’s the curation phase, where you wear a different hat and put everything together where it belongs. That’s been my process—I just create a bunch of songs, and at the end, I think, ‘Let’s create something bigger than just a song.’
You recently released ‘Ndi a Mufuna‘ alongside Muneyi, who, if you ask me, is incredibly talented. How was that? How did the collaboration come about, and what was the thought behind the song?
Making the song was one of those really random studio sessions. When I recorded the verse, it kind of just came out as a freestyle. There was one take where we chose not to record it because of the emotion and the real honesty in it—it was just so beautiful. It wasn’t until we sat with the record for a bit that Matt, , said, ‘Hey, I think Muneyi would be a great fit for this song.’ And he was spot on. That man is a genius in his own right. Watching his process was beautiful. He has this thing where he looks for notes with his hand in the air, almost like he’s placing them, and we’re blind to them. Somehow, it works. He was also open to seeing the idea grow. Even when I had suggestions for the bridge and what I wanted him to do on the hook, he didn’t hesitate, and it turned out beautifully. As for the song, I’ve always wanted to grow with my audience. At almost 30, with friends and peers getting married, I want my songs to be soundtracks to life’s big moments. So, to title this upcoming project ‘Meet Me at the Altar‘ is a testament to that vision. I’ve always been a ‘lover boy,’ always dreamed of settling down and starting my family. So, this became a love letter to my wife.”
The upcoming project will be your debut album, finally…
Yes, this will be my debut album. I’ve released music before—mixtapes and singles—but this will be my first full-length project. It feels different because, unlike the mixtape, this is a whole concept that’s tied together.
We’re still finalizing everything and Ndi a Mufuna might be the single to lead us into the rest of the album, but it all depends on the overall vibe and the direction we want to take. The album itself is something that’s been in the works for a while, and we’re all just waiting to see how it comes together in the end. Some of the tracks go way back, and I think the audience will feel that growth too. But I believe it’s also a reflection of how my audience has grown with me. There’s a beautiful cycle that’s happening where we’re all on this journey together.
What would you say in your manifesto?
For some reason the words coming to my head are “Show up and don’t be a purist”;
Showing up, even when I’m not inspired, allows for more to be created. It’s like a full circle moment when I see my 2017 songs hitting harder now. If I only created when I felt inspired, so much wouldn’t exist.
Don’t be a purist—many beautiful things exist because people aren’t afraid to try new things. If we always followed the rules, we’d miss out on so much. My music might have reggae elements, but I’m not making reggae. Don’t get stuck in labels—experiment and combine different things. It’s like mixing fruits for a smoothie, you never know what beauty you’ll create!