âWhatâs interesting is how the recording studio is a microcosm of South African society outside the studio,â said Meintjes, an assistant professor of music at Duke University who has written a book based on her experience called, âSound of Africa!: Making Music Zulu in a South African Studioâ (Duke University Press, 2003).

âMusicians really struggle over so much when they struggle over their sound,â Meintjes said. But often, she said, the studio is regarded as simply a âblack boxâ where musicians go in and music comes out.

After the success of Paul Simonâs âGracelandâ album, South African music was in demand, and the band Isigqi Sesimanje hoped to break into the newly created World Music market with a new album, âLomculo Unzima.â The recording took place over seven days in 1991 and 1992.

The band plays a kind of music called âmbaqanga,â which had its heyday in the 1970s and featured a South African sound heavily influenced by American soul and rhythm & blues music. Mbaqanga is characterized by a female close-harmony, choreographed front line (a la the Supremes), a garage-band backup and bass solo voice pitted against them.

What Meintjes found was that the very idea of âAfricannessâ in the music had changed since its heyday -- in the 1970s, the style was to appear sophisticated, urban and in touch with the American music scene. (In an earlier incarnation, the bandâs name was âThe Modern Girls,â and a 1967 album cover shows them in matching caps and vests) By the early 1990s, hoping to capitalize on the popularity of World Music, the Zulu sound â“ the embodiment of Africanness -- was in vogue.

She follows the band through the studio process, writing in an almost journalistic style as she describes the musicians and technicians struggle over lyrics, blending vocals and overdubbing percussion as they also deal with everyday life in Johannesburg. In this excerpt, Meintjes describes the scene that inspired the title of the book:

ââHeyi!â exclaims Tefo in township Zulu. âPeter is putting down hot stuff!â This is one of the few times during the production that a musician refers to Peter by his name. He is usually spoken about in terms such as whitey (umlungu), the Boer (iBhunu, Afrikaner, though he isnât one), Jesus (his hair is long and curly), that boy or young man (loâmfana). Peter is usually unaware of these names in the context in which they are used, since he understands little Zulu or other African languages.

Singer Janet agrees with Tefo about Peterâs raspy synth bass sound.

âKodwa ushayile!â (Heâs really hit it!) she cheers, using the same Zulu verb she would use to describe a dynamic performer.

Then Michael pronounces triumphantly (in Sotho), âModumo wa Afrika! Afrika!â (The sound of Africa! Africa!)â

Meintjes notes that the âsound of Africaâ the musicians loved was a highly produced, electronic sound â“ not necessarily what an outsider would consider the essence of Africa.

âThe meanings of these sounds are not transparent,â she said.

Despite their confidence that they had captured the essence of the African sound, Isigqi Sesimanjeâs album was a run-of-the-mill, low-budget production that sold only in South Africa -- not the big international break the musicians had hoped for, Meintjes said.

âThey continue to struggle,â she said. âNevertheless, the musicians are optimistic.â