Flute Muti
Published: May 26, 2026
Whistleblower Memories
Some years ago, at 19841, by dint of the impulsive generosity of Mr Maeder Osler, I ‘came by’ a flute. It is Maeder’s, but on loan to me. Or, maybe I ’liberated’ it. Well, that is what we liberationists do, isn’t it? I simply follow ’the leadership’ example. With the purloined vs permanent loan question still unresolved, I conclude, since ‘possession is nine-tenths of the law’, I surely owe it to Maeder’s one-tenth to set down some gramophonic graphomania.
It is a strange fact that people tend to give me musical instruments: my first penny whistle was an eleventh birthday present from my father. He was grumpy about it:
PENNY WHISTLE! I had to pay THIRTY PENNIES for that thing!
That was ‘half-a-crown’ in the fifties. To put this in perspective, my weekly pocket money was “1s-0d” (one shilling, no pence), so half-a-crown’s worth was a windfall. My elder sister Colleen bought my first two trumpets, some years apart. My trombones, which I did buy myself, were sandwiched betweem those earlier gifts, and this flute.
This is the second time I have learnt flute. The first time was as just one of a few intstruments I played in a dance band, moving from electric bass to strumming a few chords on electric guitar, a tune or two on a vibraphone. Otherwise I would swap between flugel horn, trumpet and trombone, and backing vocals, but I never learnt flute properly - just enough to play an easy tune, and when I think back, although I faithfully unpacked the flute every night, ready to play, I don’t think that tune was ever called.
This time around, I struggle, with my arthritic old hands, to hold the flute, though I get nano-better at it each time I try. My target is to be able to play, on flute, the featured tune ‘Penniefluitjie-Kwela ’ by Fred Woolridge. I had never heard of him until recently. That is a mystery: throughout eight years of performing alongside Danie Gerber (the SAMRO guy, not the Springbok) in Willie Boshoff’s spectacularly good dance band named “Sounds Exciting”, Danie played it, on flute, at every gig, in one of our boeremusiek sets.
“Balke toe!”
Danie would bray, and off he would go, ending the tune with a spectular tempo-speed-up that would see every dancer whirl themselves, exhilirated, off the floor to the waiting frosty beer.
Finding Fred
Plenty has been written about the Kwela Kings: Spokes Mashiyane, Robert Sithole, & Lemmy “Special” Mabaso, and there was a resurgence of interest with Mango Groove’s “Special Star”, featuring Mduduzi Magwaza. But finding Fred Woolridge on Youtube was a surprise. First, he is pale, and second, he didn’t play ‘kwela’. Both featured clips on YouTube suggest that he was a boeremusiek specialist: Penniefluitjie-Kwela and Bosveld Vastrap. Both songs feel every bit as much “my music” as does ‘penny whistle kwela’.
About Danie Gerber: I have known only a handful of people with bull-elephant sized musical ears, and of those only one had perfect pitch: that was George Hayden. All the others, like Danie, could relate musically, while driving a car, and as a tune unfolded, the chords in Roman Numerals: standards were usually “I, vi, ii, V7”, moving to a bridge section in an implied or different key. The beauty of the Roman Numeral system is, the key was unimportant. We could choose any key, the relative pitch still held.
Danie never became a pro musician. He was too smart! He stayed semi-pro, started out with SAMRO writing lead sheets, eventually working his way into IT, and he worked there until retirment.
Spokesperson
Lemme Sleep
I first met ‘Little Lemmy’ as he was billed in Aflred Herbert’s ‘African Jazz and Variety’ show, when I rode next to him in my mother’s car, maybe in 1961. She was helping with transport, getting band members to the show in PMB. Lemmy was exhausted, and fell asleep with his head tucked into my mother’s left shoulder. A generation later, we toured together for some years, Lemmy playing alto in the African Jazz Pioneers and featured on penny whistle.
Big Voice
While both Spokes Mashiyane and Lemmy “Special” Mabaso had boatloads of charm, beautiful sound and styles, the technique crown has to go to “Big Voice” Jack Lerole. I could hardly believe my ears hearing Jack on stage hitting up express be-bop or harmonising on two penny whistles at once. He was a sweet guy to spend time with too, captivating the Pioneers with his stories.
He could be impatient. At the festival in Grahamstown once, he took issue with vocalist Donald Tshomela. Don was in the kitchen of our accommodation, revving up the band members - again. This time, he had said “I am an Englishman. I am not a native”. Jack rasped:
“How can you be an Englishman, when you are black like me?”
Unusually, Don was stuck for words. He looked across the room at me, and I mouthed “Frank Bruno”.
“Like Frank Bruno. I’m English like Frank Bruno” smirked Bra Don.
I enjoyed Big Voice, and Don, although Don drove the band mad with his teasing. I routinely took my pre-teen daughter, Shashi, with me on tours. Don and “Big Voice” Jack were Shashi’s proudest brother-dads. I did not fear for her safety with them around. If I needed to find her, all I had to do was find either of them. The doting was mutual.
Wrap
I will never perform on flute. My soul ceaseless begs for me to make music, so I pick it up, and have a blow. I like the sound: it sounds more polite than a penny whistle, though its sound is probably poorer in harmonics. Unlike my other instruments, though, it is the one instrument with which classical players rule supreme technically.
Benny Goodman may have made a classical clarinettist leave town. Top jazz trombonists like Frank Rosolino and Carl Fontana must have struck fear into many classical trombone hearts. No classical trumpeter quite got over Louis Armstrong. Saxophones? No contest. Drums? Is there even such a thing as a classical drummer? Oh, no, old chap, percussionist is the word. But, flute? There have been many jazz flautists: Herby Mann, Frank Wess, Bud Shank, James Moody, Hubert Laws. They are very good, even technically admirable, but if I want to listen to flute at its best, I will look for a classical performance.
Lurking in the back of my mind is the suspicion that nobody will ever, truly, think of flute as a jazz horn. What would Maeder say?
“Too cultured, too polite. Definitely not your thing”.
For once, he won’t find me arguing!
Restaurant in Colesberg, now known as “Ouma Anna”. ↩︎