The photograph printed on the cover of this book shows a group of eight young men talking, laughing, smoking and posing for the camera. The black and white picture, titled Tsotsis Sophiatown ('tsotsis' denotes 'Black gangsters' and Sophiatown is a township in Johannesburg, South Africa), has a historic feel to it, and judging from the clothes the young men wear I would assume that it was taken in the 1950s or 1960s. While we of course know that we should not judge a book by its cover, I think this image perfectly encapsulates the male, in-group, street-aligned linguistic practices that have emerged in the urban centres of Africa in the 20th century and that are the focus of this book. The image also conveys something of the carnivalesque atmosphere and countercultural attitude that are so characteristic of the speech practices of young urban men. The photographer captured a moment in which the interaction was uninhibited, limitless, chaotic, performative and anti-hegemonic. In the moment the photo was taken, the young men, absorbed in jocular conversation and loud guffawing amongst themselves, appear to feel unregimented by the prescriptive and punitive language ideologies that circulate in wider society and which are perpetuated through religious, educational and state institutions in postcolonial Africa. It is also very clear that the image could not have been taken by an unratified observer, or a fly on the wall; the young men attend to and even perform for the camera. This raises pressing questions about researchers' access, the observer's paradox and research ethics when studying youth language practices in Africa. While reviewing this book, I often returned to the cover image and, engrossed by their embodied linguistic performance of the moment, found myself laughing with the tsotsis. They must be in their 70s or 80s today. Would they still qualify as informants for scholars interested in youth language practices? How has the slang they used in the 1960s developed over time? Have they given their consent to appear on the cover of an academic book published by one of the most preeminent publishing houses of the colonial metropole?The book provides detailed descriptive information and insightful theorisations about contemporary youth language practices in South Africa (five chapters), Cameroon, Kenya and Côte d'Ivoire (one chapter each). In the Introduction, the three editors, all renowned sociolinguistics scholars from South Africa, conceptualise youth language practices as hybrid ways of speaking in urban Africa that are 'connected with street corners rather than classrooms' (p. 2) and that are ideologically associated with working-class adolescent men between the ages of roughly 15 and 25. The focus on young people, the editors argue, is a particularly pertinent research agenda for African linguistics, because 50% of Africa's urban population is under the age of 19, and around 20% are between 15 to 24 years of age (p. 2). I assume that readers interested in apparent-time diachrony will be able to draw new ...