Before the Concert: Die Antwoord— A Listening Guide

The South African rap-rave phenomenon Die Antwoord is an endless fount of crude, brash and fantastically offensive media. Ninja and Yolandi Vi$$er, the frontmen of the band, brazenly spew filth from their mouths (give the 8 minute version of “Beat Boy” a listen, if you dare) while bombarding the hapless viewer with images of penis galore— boobs, too.

Despite these seemingly repellant features, however, Die Antwoord’s initial rise to popularity, in response to a series of increasingly bizarre YouTube videos, was nothing short of meteoric. People, myself included, returned again and again to the tracks that would eventually compile $0$ with the kind of sordid fascination that is usually reserved for post-10PM visits to Chat Roulette (circa 2009.) Furthermore, once seduced into listening by the irresistible promise of copious genitalia, I, and many like me, found it impossible not to succumb to Yolandi’s catchy choruses and Ninja’s impossibly crisp rapping style. Die Antwoord manipulated lyrics from multiple languages, embraced constant changes in tempo and had no respect for a driving baseline yet managed to make its music completely accessible to the listener. That’s a band a fan can get behind (I bought a mercifully peen-free T-Shirt on Amazon, but never actually wear it because I feel uncomfortable with the picture of Ninja’s cracked-out, gold toothed face being spread across my chest, you know?).

    And then the bubble burst; some investigation into Ninja’s past revealed that Die Antwoord is a BIG FAT JOKE, or more accurately, Die Antwoord is a scathingly satirical outfit, lacking in semantic “authenticity”. The upshot of this discovery was that Die Antwoord’s popularity diminished and their album charted badly. I suppose one could question why it is anyone ever believed the band was sincere; a little Googling will show that Yolandi and Ninja were in other bands, taking on other personas — the information was out there. Regardless, the public disclosure that Die Antwoord was faking it did not serve them well. 

Well, I’m here to tell you that this attitude is ridiculous. All musicians take on a persona or have one thrust upon them. Jay-Z will gladly express in song the fact that “a bitch” is not one of his many problems, but I don’t for a second believe that he uses a similar linguistic lexicon when sitting over blueberry muffins and toaster strudel during brunch with Beyoncé. On the other hand, Lady Gaga has never fully broken from her persona in the public eye and it must be as exhausting for her to live that way as it is for those of us who have to witness her buying Doritos dressed up like the Eiffel Tower or whatever. Are either of these cases examples of positive authenticity in the music industry? Shouldn’t we be glad that Die Antwoord aren’t actually violent, misogynistic, posturing weirdos and that, in fact, they are taking on the personas of violent, misogynistic, posturing weirdos with the intention of subverting the industry that supports them through goddamn solid music and a good dose of humour? Not only that, but shouldn’t we also appreciate the fact that Die Antwoord has forced us to realize that we bought into them, supported them, because we thought they were authentically reprehensible and, in fact, we expected authentic, discriminatory, vulgarities from the musical talents of the impoverished and subjugated? Die Antwoord has managed to create music (arguably) on par with some of the most popular hip-hop and dance artists of the world, entering into it with the same zest and irreverence as the originals, but has circumnavigated and indicted the objectionable qualities to these genres by being entirely self-aware.  It’s high-energy music you don’t have to feel bad about. How can this not be good?

Die Antwoord will be performing in Philadelphia, at The Trocadero on February 9th.

Their new album Ten$ion will be out on February 7th.