Selaelo Selota is from South Africa, and maybe it's the decent weather that doesn't smell like a bum in an oven that helps him to create what his website refers to as “Afro Soul”. And while we need to check up on the redundancy of the term, we can't help but argue with the New Orleans style piano intro, and the call and response that is only a language apart from the songs created in the deep south of America.
Meanwhile, I'm sitting around in my Brooklyn apartment in my underwear, eating nothing but cherry Frozfruit, and drinking coconut water one after another in attempt not to dry up into a California Raisin. I'm fanning myself with an old copy of New York Observer repeating a mantra of “it's hot as Africa up in this bitch”, then looking on Weather.com to see in Johannesburg it's 75 degrees right now.
Seriously, this seems hardly fair.