After two decades of hits, reinvention and resilience, K.O reflects on the man he has become, the lessons that shaped him and the legacy he still wants to build.
Twenty years of K.O have given us 20 summers of great hits—a culture that the young K.O could never have foreseen. Over those two decades, the talented muso has created a time capsule of music that resonates with us at different moments in our lives, whether good or bad. His songs have become part of our stories, even as he continues to tell his own.
But perhaps the most remarkable part of K.O’s 20-year journey is not the hits, the accolades, or even the longevity. It is the man he has become along the way.
When he speaks, there is something deeply considerate about his career. K.O is measured, introspective and refreshingly honest about both the peaks and the valleys of this beautiful journey. There is no rush to paint a perfect picture. Instead, he acknowledges the failures, the humility that comes with the years he has garnered, maintaining relationships, the anxiety of it all, the ambition and the importance of simply staying the course.
The younger K.O, he admits, might be surprised by the person sitting here today.
“I guess, the fact that I overcame my social anxiety, first of all,” he says with a giggle. “Not all the way completely but I’ve managed to work around it and navigate around it much better than I used to.”
His younger self, he admits would also be surprised by his “undying tenacity” and the longevity of a career he once imagined might have taken a very different direction by the time he reached his 40s. The star, real name – Ntokozo Mdluli, is currently 45-years-old.
His twenty years in an industry have been built on constant reinvention that can make longevity feel almost ordinary from the outside. For K.O, it is anything but.
“Being blessed enough to still be here is something completely priceless,” he shares.
Staying here has also required him to embrace evolution. Something K.O has never been afraid of—change—but judging by the thread in his career, K.O has never confused evolution with abandoning the essence of who he is. His evolution approach is to study the landscape, understand new sounds, and introduce contemporary elements without losing the musical identity his audience has come to know.
He describes it almost as a balancing act: retaining enough of the familiar to remain recognisably K.O, while leaving enough room for a new generation to enter. It is those same principles that appear to have shaped his personal evolution—as a utknotzo.
One of the earliest lessons he learned, he says, is that relationships matter. The music industry can be a small world, and a disagreement today can easily become an unavoidable encounter years later.
“We are all human at the end of the day, where we will bump heads, but I try—by all means—to be the bigger person,” he says.
His instinct is to neutralise rather than inflame, to remain optimistic rather than allow a difficult moment to dictate what comes next. It is an approach that says as much about the man as any of his music ever could.
That is possibly why his idea of legacy is not centred on being the loudest person in the room but wanting to be remembered through the music.
K.O describes his songs as “a photographic image in sound “form”—pieces that can transport listeners back to a particular time in their lives. You hear a song years after its release, and, ideally, it becomes a portal.
He uses “Cara Cara” as an example. For someone else, it might just be a song, while for another, an instant 2014 reminder of a particular summer, a relationship, a night out, a chapter of youth—ANYTHING.
“That’s all that I strive for,” he says. “To leave an indelible mark in culture.”
That mark, however, is not simply about musical innovation but also a refusal to give up on himself.
K.O is candid about the pressures that have accompanied a dramatically changing music industry. He remembers a time when CDs and radio offered artists a more predictable route to an audience. Streaming and social media have transformed that landscape, creating opportunities but also a new kind of pressure.
The internet, he says, can demand that artists become performative, sometimes even acting out of character in an attempt to satisfy an algorithm.
His answer has been to recognise what he does and doesn’t know, calling for him to be a student and understanding that he is not good at everything. It is that humility that extends to how he views other artists.
And there have been moments when he has questioned his own journey, the ebbs and flows that many careers have experienced—sometimes even doubting the path. But the passion has sustained K.O – pushing him to study moments and time rather than get swallowed by his struggles.
“When someone else is having a great moment, I learn,” he says. “I study what makes people resonate with that particular artist.”
There is wisdom in that response, particularly in an industry where comparison can so easily become corrosive. Being humble enough to recognise that it is someone else’s moment does not mean believing your own will will never come. It means staying present long enough to see the pendulum swing again.
“You just need to stick around, be present and show up,” he says.
That philosophy sits at the heart of “20 Summers”, the single marking his two decades in the game. The song emerged from a rare moment of stillness—the realisation that, for all his focus on the next milestone, he had not stopped often enough to acknowledge what had already been achieved.
Recently, while watching a montage of career highlights, K.O found himself becoming emotional while revisiting his own evolution. It was a moment that forced him to look backwards, and for someone habitually lives ahead of himself, that was significant.
He explains that he often celebrates the next big moment before it has even arrived. “It deprives one of the opportunity to appreciate in real time and celebrate with those who rally around you,” he says.
Watching two decades of memories brought that reality home.
“It was heartwarming,” he says, before acknowledging something he has since become more and more comfortable saying out loud: “I truly am one of the greats in Mzansi,” – with a smile that is both an admission and a lesson. “I need to wear that and not be too humble about it because the work speaks for itself.”
A statement that feels important because K.O’s reflections on success are never separated from his understanding of failure. And he wants younger people to study both sides.
The good moments are only half the story. The failures, disappointments and periods when things did not work are equally important because they teach resilience.
He describes life as a marathon rather than a sprint, pushing back against a generation increasingly conditioned to expect instant gratification.
His own journey, he believes, has been shaped by humility, respecting his elders, respecting younger people, and remaining willing to learn from both. In an industry—and genre—where ego can easily become part of the persona, he sees arrogance as a limitation. It can close doors before you even realise they are there.
The next 20 years, then, are not about slowing down. They are about expanding the definition of what K.O can become.
He wants to evolve into an established philanthropist and serial entrepreneur. He wants to invest in emerging technology and empower younger people with the knowledge he has accumulated. He still wants music to be part of the picture, but perhaps in different ways—becoming the man behind the music as much as the man in front of it.
A more deeper personal ambition is to be a great family man, father, partner and mentor.
His creative vision remains just as expansive. He dreams of making a motion picture from start to finish, writing it, producing it and creating its soundtrack. He wants to make albums and produce at a level that reminds him of Quincy Jones.
This great man, who has spent 20 years mastering his craft, is still willing to be a student. He continues to look forward without being afraid to look back. He continues to evolve without abandoning himself and continues to compete without losing sight of the fact that someone else’s victory does not diminish his own.
And he continues to dream.
For his own fans, there is plenty still to come. K.O is planning a 20th anniversary tribute concert, more music before the end of the year, and possibly even an EP. More Skanda World gear is also on the horizon.
Twenty years on, the story is far from finished.
If anything, “20 Summers” feels less like a conclusion than a moment in which K.O finally allows himself to stand still long enough to look at the road behind him.
Twenty summers deep, K.O is still here. Still learning. Still creating. Still competing.
And, finally, perhaps allowing himself to appreciate just how far he has come.
