No Fear - In Beats, Borders and Becoming: An Interview with TNXBK
Conducted by Motheo Mamabolo.
Often, we marvel at those who embrace duality—
people who dip their hands into many pots, unfazed by the heat of the kitchen.
From the shadow of Table Mountain to the pulse of Lagos,
TNXBK’s journey as a contemporary fashion mogul and retrospective sound curator is one we deeply revere.
But with that reverence comes recognition of the tension.
To be here and there, to be many things at once,
is to live in constant translation.
Multifacetedness is often celebrated, but not always understood.
Courtesy Daniel Uwaga and 16/16
Part One: Freedom
Motheo: Let us begin with a quote from Nina Simone,
a jazz titan whose voice carried both rebellion and tenderness. When asked, “What is freedom?” she paused, and replied: “It’s just a feeling.” A feeling children know well—fearless, unbound. Some are born into it. Others must fight their way there. Perhaps artists are among the lucky ones—those born into freedom.
So, what is freedom to you?
TinxBK: Interesting that you ask that because I’ve been doing a lot of journalling and reflection lately in an effort to entangle which thoughts and aspirations belong to me versus the world. I realised that my greatest drive is freedom: freedom of time, geography, love, expression! Freedom to me is agency. The ability to know what you want and act on it unencumbered by what others may think. I’m proud to say I live a life that’s wholly mine.
South Africa and Nigeria—two parents locked in a long, complicated dance— rivalling yet intertwined, socially and economically. We’ve watched the friction play out on timelines and Facebook walls, in memes, music, and misunderstood histories.
Motheo: As a child of both these powerhouses, do you ever find yourself caught in their crosshairs? How do you navigate that tension in your identity—and in public spaces?
TinxBK: I’m proudly pan-Africanist and it feels like some divine gift to have heritage rooted in two African giants. But some days it’s hard to navigate being inbetween such distinct cultures and identities. There are so many commonalities but there are indeed striking differences, however I wish we could learn to celebrate the variances as opposed to using it as fodder for hate.
Motheo: Your work—whether in fabric or sound—feels like a negotiation, a stitching together of selves.There’s a South African rhythm one can feel, coupled with the boldness that resonates in our Nigerian kin—together weaving an intoxicating tapestry that resists definition. Do you ever feel pressure to choose between one narrative over another?
TinxBK: I believe in honouring the season I am in. Some days, weeks and even months I find myself in complete fashion mode where all my ideas and dreams manifest in garments and editorials. Then suddenly I’ll be booked non-stop with DJ gigs with little time in my design studio. Instead of feeling frustrated, I just lean in to the moment and milk the creative well until its dried up so I can move on to the next thing.
Courtesy Daniel Uwaga and 16/16
Motheo: The industries of fashion, film, and music often celebrate projects that exude a certain simplicity—sometimes leaning toward a bland, neutral palette. How do you protect the wholeness of your identity in an industry that often expects simplicity?
TinxBK: Active journaling has been a powerful tool for me. I’m constantly writing, reflecting and checking in on my own desires, goals, insecurities, triggers. By actively checking in on your higher-self it becomes easier to navigate what does and doesn’t align with your spirit. The world leans heavily on its relationship with the digital. For many young entrepreneurs, this is a direct tool for reaching new audiences, building networks, and forming community. Yet these platforms also police concepts and content, often inviting curated and commodified identities.
Motheo: Style, for some, is armor. For others, it’s memory. What is style to you?
TinxBK: “Style as memory” I think I might steal that! Because honestly that says it best, my style is just a synthesis of everyone I love, every film I’ve watched, every cultural icon I’ve looked up to. With enough inputs the output can feel like a novel idea.
Motheo: We are all artificial intelligence: organic GPTs with a skin covering.In the vacuum of social media opinions and endless requests, how do you stay true to the essence behind the image?
TinxBK: I’m so over social media. It's just really un-stimulating these days. I wish I had a clever response for how I navigate it but quite frankly I just press post and don’t think about it too hard. I’m inspired by the tangible. It’s all become too ephemeral and soulless. Freedom is when I don’t have to be online anymore!
Courtesy Daniel Uwaga and 16/16
Part Two: Freedom in Sound
Motheo: Your sets feel like portals—echoes of the past remixed for the present, pulsing with nostalgia and newness. I imagine that your histories across three continents have influenced how you listen and what you enjoy. From Cape Town, to Florence and London. Each with its own fashion philosophy, own drum, and language. How have these three geographies shaped what you listen to?
TinxBK: I have always had a chaotic musical palette. I’m the epitome of “down for whatever”. Whenever I’m in a new city I want to party with the locals, shop at the vintage stores, hang around a shitty cafe all day and let the local sounds permeate. Funnily living in Italy expanded my music tastes the most. Because Italians are so indefatigably Italian. They’ve got their own cultural world going on there and it's incredible to experience. It's also the heart of disco and electronic music innovation so the sonic archive there is just different. London and Cape Town are also very energetically powerful but because they’re both such globalised cities that I’ve started to notice a homogenisation of culture. I would’ve love to experience Vivienne Westwood’s London
Motheo: Genres melt in your sets: afrotech, gqom, amapiano, electro. How do you decide what genre belongs in a set?
TinxBK: It’s tough being a DJ in South Africa because we take the endeavour very seriously. I think South Africans are the most discerning crowds so you have to be very aware of who is in your audience. Literally I’ll arrive at the party and observe the age, race, style, even social class of the crowd I’m about to play for. It sounds pedantic but it really does make a difference. Some crowds are down to let you take them on a ride through genres but sometimes people can be stubborn and want you to stay in a particular pocket. Yes, there’s always the option to double down and play whatever you want but ultimately I just want everyone to have a good time. The agility in which you navigate this challenge is part of the fun for me
Motheo: Music, like identity, can’t always be explained—it’s felt. When curating this playlist for 16/16, what freedoms did you grant yourself? What rules, if any, did you break?
TinxBK: What inspires me versus what I’m personally listening to currently versus what I’m likely to play on the dance floor are three completely different types of set lists! The best I could do is just give a little sample of each like a charcuterie board of music. I kept it authentically South African to give 16/16 a taste of my side of the world. The playlist is like a bunch of stuff you’d hear in a night at rave with creative kids at like an underground club. Kind of alt but not afraid to be mainstream.
Motheo: As Nina Simone once said, freedom is no fear—the feeling we carry as children, when dreams still feel possible. When being both an astronaut and Barbie felt attainable. When we truly believed we might one day stand barefoot on the moon. Can you recall a time when a song made you feel that way—limitless, fearless, free?
TinxBK: Ugh just the other week, I saw DJ Maphorisa live and he played a gqom remix of Shallipoppi’s “Laho”. I felt transcendental. I just froze in awe. Musical technicalities aside, maybe it's because of what that song represents: Art transcending politics — just the best of South Africa and Nigeria coming together to make something really beautiful. We should do that more often.