In Conversation with Tsholofelo

How do you know you are on your path? Because it disappears.

A profound observation by poet David Whyte and a lived reality by singer-songwriter Tsholofelo who has forged her own way to centerstage with her sophomore album, Burning Bush.

In this instalment of In Conversation With — we sit down with Tsholofelo to explore the personal, creative and spiritual journey that brought this project to life while also delving into the process of translating Burning Bush from a recorded body of work into an immersive live experience, brought to life through the richness of a full band and the evocative textures of strings. From her debut album, Becoming, to the deeper, more assured world of Burning Bush, Tsholofelo reflects on the evolution of her artistry and the many meanings of becoming — as a musician, as a woman and as a person continually being shaped by life experiences.

This is a conversation about growth, surrender and the courage to trust the process…

Tsholo, this will be your first time hosting a show and yet you have been in the industry for almost a decade. What made you decide that this is the time to take the leap of faith and put yourself out there in this manner?

I was having a bad day and contemplating my life and eventually came to the realization that I was tired of having to wait to be invited to the table and in that moment I decided I would create my own table in the form of this live experience and when that wave of energy wore off I was already knee deep in preparations and had to follow through with it (laughs), and now we are here today.

Creating your own table as an independent artist can be a daunting task. How are you navigating the tortuous path of being an independent artist?

By remembering my why.

I have tired to quit music a couple of times and after all my failed attempts I realized that music is how I process my own emotions and experiences of the world. Every time I quit music, something monumental would happen in my life that would force me back into music because it is only through writing that I would be able to process what had happened, be it good or bad. So even if I did not release or perform my music, I would still write music because that is how I make sense of life, that is how I make sense of the world. I have come to accept and embrace that this is the way I am wired to process life. It is a need for me first before it is a career.

That’s my why. Then there’s people’s reception of my music. It amazes me that my music can move past me and create bonds of its own. I receive messages from people telling me about their experiences and what my music has done for them and that encourages me to keep sharing more of myself. We meet as strangers because of the music and through the music we become a community and that’s precious to me.

Speaking of strangers, how are you tackling the beast of audience building given how important an element of the ecosystem it is – even more so with live performance…

I will admit that audience building is very tricky because digital streams don’t necessarily translate to actual attendance when you put on a show. Then there’s also this tension, as an artist, between wanting to be seen and wanting to hide away. For the most part I want to hide away (laughs) and that’s part of the reason I had a 6 year hiatus between Becoming and Past Two Years which was released in 2022. After I released Past Two Years I decided to stay on the radar because I knew I wanted to release a project and it was important to have my feet firmly on the ground. It felt like I was starting audience building from scratch because it had been so long since my first offering but I found that there were people who remained in my orbit from my first album and that to me is the evidence of connection that binds a community. I have seen this community grow even more since the release of Burning Bush and one of the reasons I’m hosting a live experience is to show people that I exist beyond the screen – that they can come see me perform live, we can sing together and have a chat afterwards.

You mentioned the tension between wanting to be seen and wanting to hide away. What about the tension between the music and the music business, how are you navigating that?

I was so traumatized by the system of things that I went and wrote my Master’s on it. I did my undergraduate degree and honours at UKZN and during that time I decided I was going to put out an album and I did. With my youthful idealism I was convinced that it was going to do well and I ended up selling a whopping 12 copies after printing a thousand CDs.

Thereafter, I decided to quit music and further my studies. I did my Master of Arts and my dissertation was on the experience of being an independent musician and the constant tension between the creation of music and the business of music and how we can bridge that gap. I found that one of the ways that we can start to bridge this gap is through collaboration. With Burning Bush, I partnered with Platoon for its distribution and they also handled the marketing of the album which enabled me to reach audiences and platforms I wouldn’t have been able to reach by myself. Similarly, the project itself would not have been possible without my friend and producer Th&o.

What I’ve seen though is that we are all just winging it and learning as we go. I haven’t figured out the perfect balance between the music and the business but I am learning as I go and my approach with Burning Bush is a lot more learned than what it was for Becoming.

Let’s talk about Burning Bush. There’s a lot of ambiguity in the project that’s open to interpretation and I think each listener will reach a different conclusion of the project based on their own life experience. But also it feels like a puzzle of you and with each song we get more clues and pieces that by the end of the project produce an image of Tsholofelo. What was your endgame in creating Burning Bush?

Funny enough I realized and also discovered things about this project in hindsight. In 2020 I quit music again and then tragically in 2021 I lost my uncle to Covid-19 so I went back to music as my means of processing the grief and that’s when I wrote Past Two Years. After that song was done I approached my producer with the idea of Burning Bush, the song not the album, and he liked it instantly. Then I sent him a demo of the song and he responded ‘what are you doing on Thursday’, and we had our first session that Thursday to workshop the song. Then he said I should bring out the ideas and songs that I had stored in the vault and we spent every Thursday for three years working on this album.

The title of the album is taken from the story of Moses and the burning bush in the bible, where he made excuses not to take up the position he was called to and I feel like I was doing the same thing by putting forth all the excuses for me not to do music even though I know that it was what I’m called for.

You’re right in saying that it is a puzzle because Burning Bush is me trying to trace the steps of the person I was while moving towards the person I know I’m supposed to be. And ofcourse love creeps in there as it always does. I feel like love is such an elusive thing and if you listen to the lyrics of my songs you can pick that up but I’m still committed to the cause.

In essence Burning Bush is about a daunting journey that cannot be avoided but that is both transformative and fulfilling.

What would you say is the main difference between Tsholofelo in Becoming and Tsholofelo in Burning Bush?

Mmhhh – in Becoming I was trying to figure myself out through the lens of my parents and I had a desire to find spaces that felt like home. My parents divorced when I was 8 years old and that resulted in me living in two provinces and home was never just one thing or one place and that made belonging an important factor for me.

In Burning Bush I feel like I have arrived home sonically and somehow arrived to myself. I now have the maturity to understand that I don’t need to find home within people because I may not always be invited there but I will always return to myself and I am confident and secure in that.

And how are the two versions of Tsholofelo similar?

They are both inquisitive, the questions have just changed. In Becoming I was trying to place myself whereas in Burning Bush I’m trying to understand the world around me more. In LaMalinga’s Love Story you hear my grandmother narrating to me how she met my grandfather. That’s a conversation Becoming Tsholo would have never had with her grandmother because she was still bound by the books before boys code of conduct. But I’m grown now and I can have these conversations with my grandmother now and they broaden my perspective on a whole lot of things although only the topic of love is highlighted in the project.

Bushing Bush Live Experience…

Extraordinary experience. The thing about working with a stellar band is that everyone brings their own experience and creativity to the table that breathes new life into the music. It truly sounds incredible. I almost burst into tears the other day at rehearsal because our guitarist took a solo on one of the songs and he played it like how I had imagined it for the record but I don’t play nearly as good as he does and just hearing his rendition of the song was so special. With each rehearsal I’m left in awe of just how good the music sounds.

When we recorded Burning Bush, I would record a demo then we would track and then layer so it was a small team that brought the projet together. Now to have 10 musicians in a room playing the music makes it feel so expansive and that excites me for what the show will be like on the 31st.

If you could prescribe the ultimate starter kit for a Tsholofelo fan, what would it be?

See that’s a difficult one because I want all the people (laughs). Mmmhhh – I would say a Tsholofelo fan listens with intention.

Yes, they are human and listen with intention.

Catch Tsholofelo’s Burning Bush Live experience this Saturday, 31 October 2026. Tickets are available on webtickets