“I Salute You” - King Pinn
African Sound, Rooted Soul — Entry 01 of 12
“Let me take you back to the days of blackness / Marcus Garvey and the ships of sadness...”
Rooted in Rhythm
At first listen, “I Salute You” might sound like a well-produced underground hip-hop track—steady beat, layered lyrics, a firm voice moving with calm precision. But give it a second spin, and something deeper begins to stir. You realise this isn’t just music. It’s memory. It’s mourning. It’s a map.
King Pinn, born Tonderai Makoni, recorded this song while still a student. He died tragically in 2003 at just 23 years old. Yet “I Salute You” continues to circulate in underground circles, classrooms, freedom rallies, and family playlists. The reason? It does something most music rarely attempts: it fuses the modern and the ancestral without compromise.
Hip-Hop Meets Oral Tradition
The song is in English. The flow is unmistakably hip-hop, punched with cadence and rhyme. But what lives inside it is unmistakably African. It’s the voice of the elder at the fireside. The village crier. The griot. The guardian of memory.
King Pinn opens the track by naming names, Marcus Garvey, Steve Biko, Bob Marley, and more. But he’s not showing off, likes didn’t exists then! He’s invoking. This is a ritual. A tribute. A pledge. He doesn’t place himself above the people he mentions, he places himself among them, behind them, learning, honouring, and carrying forward. He is placing himself in a lineage.
Global Standards, African Roots
What’s especially remarkable is that you could play “I Salute You” alongside Tupac’s “Changes”, Dead Prez’s “Hip Hop”, or Nas’ “I Can”—and it wouldn’t sound out of place. Not as a knock-off. As an equal. King Pinn didn’t need to water down his message to make it modern. His music proves that African artistry can globalize without surrendering its soul.
Even the production feels balanced. The beat is sharp but not flashy. The tone is serious but not heavy. It creates a space for reflection, the kind you’d want as a soundtrack to deep conversation or documentary film. It holds the ear, but it also holds the heart.
A Compass for Creators
What makes “I Salute You” so important, especially now, is that it models a creative ethic. It’s proof that you can embrace new forms without abandoning old values. That you can be modern, relevant, even international, without becoming hollow. The song is not nostalgic, it’s ancestral. That’s a different frequency altogether.
And it asks us to do more than enjoy it. It asks us to take part in the work it points toward: remembering, rebuilding, and reclaiming what it means to be African, not just in heritage, but in how we speak, make, and move through the world.
The Legacy Lives On
King Pinn left too early. But in “I Salute You”, he left us a blueprint. A reminder that music can be more than sound, it can be testimony. It can carry forward what schoolbooks left out. And it can do so without losing rhythm, power, or pride.
“To all my people still fighting for peace… I salute you.”
And to King Pinn, whose pen and presence still guide us: we salute you too.
Licensing & Preservation Note
If you’re interested in supporting the legacy of this song or using it in a responsible project:
Contact his brother Takura Makoni (Rassie Ai) for permissions.
The song was recorded via Shamiso Records, Harare.
No confirmed publishing rights exist—legal advice and ethical outreach are strongly advised.
Coming Next:
August 2nd — “African Blood” by Yugen Blakrok