I must begin this article about the South African rock legend Johnny Clegg by making a confession. This is something that has been on my chest for a quarter of a century. Indeed, there is not a month that passes without the memory of this bad, awful, shameful, disgraceful, dishonest thing I did resurfacing and weighing on me. It will follow me to the grave. But at least you, dear reader, will know exactly what this dishonorable guest is taking to the earth, exactly what is being covered when the gravediggers throw dirt on my coffin. And all of this has to do with Johnny Clegg.