Initially, listeners were introduced to Die Antwoord with the viral explosion of their 2010 video "Enter the Ninja." The clip veered wildly from wide-eyed aww-shucks bravado to guileless obscenity as lead rapper Ninja seemed both amazed by and stridently convinced of his imminent fame. "This is like, the coolest song I've ever heard in my whole life," he (self-)proclaimed in the song long before anyone else would validate that opinion and yet, he was confident he'd be "all up on the interwebs." Apparently, this was the South African equivalent of keeping it real. Assuming, of course, that you've based your entire identity on stale American hip-hop cliches and lost half of it in translation.
Ultimately, though, the video delivered a lot more than the obvious laughs at Ninja's clueless bluster. In fact, his spot-on pastiche of American gangsterism failed to conceal a gift for deft lyrical dexterity. As evidenced by his rhymework in "Enter the Ninja" and its subsequent album, $0$, there was an obvious talent and ambition at work here. So much so that the cartoonishly excessive nature of Die Antwoord has been repeatedly called into question on the grounds of authenticity. What initially seemed like a joke has blossomed into cult obsession as listeners try to decipher the true nature of the group: is Die Antwoord an elaborate con job or are they South Africa's hip-hop idiot savants?
Inevitably, that persistent scrutiny colored expectations for their latest album, Tension. Would Die Antwoord come out swinging in the hopes of asserting some hardcore credibility? Or would they stand revealed as an hiphop internet fluke? Either way, the pressure was on to replicate their initial success. Luckily for fans, Ten$ion brings us a Die Antwoord that spends less time on the offensive in exchange for just being offensive, grossly cocksure and stupidly aggressive. Which is just to say, really, that Die Antwoord is back with more songs.
It didn't hurt the band's reputation that the last thing they did before releasing the album was alienate their label. Early buzz pointed to creative frictions between the band and Interscope, with the final result being a parting of ways. And while Die Antwoord use the album to take their requisite shots at the label, numerous fans point to the video for "Fok Julle Naaiers" as a breaking point. In particular, they single out it's gay-baiting addendum ("DJ Hi-Tek Rulez") in which DJ Hi-Tek sets a new benchmark for homophobic rants in little more than a minute and a half.
Or does he?
Like everything else the group does (mostly just by existing), bystanders were left to wonder- is this shit for real? And even though Die Antwoord are no strangers to courting controversy (see $0$'s "Evil Boy" video for just one example), this went far beyond their usual brand of crass vulgarity. As such, it should surprise no one that the band anticipated the ruckus they were bringing. Pre-emptively, Ninja filmed a quick defense to accompany the video's release.
"For those of you who don't know, DJ Hi-Tek is gay." He shrugged his shoulders. " So there you go." Ninja quickly brushed this "fact" aside, opting instead to take Americans to task for their all too enthusiastic tendencies towards political correctness and the fearful power that imbues words with.
Lost amidst all this noise, however, was the unprecedented act of hiphop history taking place. The real story here was not Die Antwoord's politically incorrect litany of words, nor was it the recasting of DJ Hi-Tek as the homosexual aggressor of all homophobes nightmares. The real news here was not even the outing of DJ Hi-Tek as a homosexual in hip-hop. The real story, the one that everyone overlooked, was that anyone in hip hop willingly came out as homosexual.*
Again, though, the smoke and mirrors that seem to surround Die Antwoord prevail.
The veracity of DJ Hi-Tek's true identity has always been sketchy at best. On record, his voice has never been presented unaltered and visual appearances have been inconsistent with numerous faces being attributed to the name. Listeners could be forgiven for wondering if the DJ even exists, much less if his outing is just another hiphop experiment taking place in Ninja's mad basement.
Regardless of intent, however, the episode revealed a lot more than DJ Hi-Tek's sexual orientation. First, it betrayed a sense of self-awareness that runs much deeper than Die Antwoord's gonzo gangster horndog image allows for. Moreso, it highlighted the conflict at the heart of their commercial existence: Are These Guys for Real?
Die Antwoord has been plagued by questions of authenticity simply because they are so painstakingly spot on in their pastiche of Amercian Youth Gangsterism. Their moves seem far too calculated, their sound is far too commercial and their rhymes are far too capably executed for them to truly be the simple minded lunkhead collective they portray themselves as. They seem neither stupid nor naive enough to actually be as they portray themselves. Which indicates either they've gone native on what was intended as an art project or they've been scamming us wholesale the whole time.
Ten$ion fits nicely into their agenda, whatever it may actually be, by letting the freak flag fly as high as possible. One need look no further than the recent video for "Fatty Boom Boom" as proof. The clip is a parodical view of South Africa, a cheap shot at Lady Gaga and a pisstake of our first world preconceptions. And then there's Yolandi Visser in black face. Filmed in the Hype Williams style via fellow South African maverick Neill Blomkamp, it quickly turns into an explosion of color and is one of the most visually arresting pieces to come out all year. But if American artists were to attempt this, effigies would be burned, boycotts would be enacted. For Die Antwoord, it's simply another day of jumping the shark.
The lunacy of such viral antics have, for the most part, been embraced by their audience and, as of late, come to be expected. Establishing such a crazed identity online would threaten to overwhelm the actual work of most artists, especially in a market experiencing freefall as badly as the recording industry. Instead, it's allowed Die Antwoord to flourish as they fly under the radar of expectation. Critically speaking, they've slipped in like (dare I say it) a ninja.
Looking back at their debut album, $0$, it's obvious now that controversy was just the sizzle of the steak. The album turned out to be an oddly addictive piece of genuinely weird but delicious hip-hop. Additionally, their production values always skewed closer to the populism of club music rather than anything produced by the pantheon of Dre, RZA, Kanye or Timbaland. Ten$ion retains those tendencies, whether it's the opening dubstep of "Never Le Nkemise 1" or the accelerating bridge of "I Fink Yu Freeky."
Further into the album, though, something interesting happens: mainstream American sounds start to creep in. Ninja goes so far as to spell it out when he harkens back to that "feel good gangsta shit" on "So What." What follows is Dre by numbers with a simple but effective piano loop. "Hey Sexy" recalls the Indian spice of Timbaland at the peak of his freak producto powers. No worries, however, Die Antwoord is not selling out. Their madcap gonzo style is still on full display, whether it's the rich bitch theatrics of "Baby's On Fire" or the crudely offensive "U Make a Ninja Wanna Fuck."
Even Die Antwoord's blatant mysogeny is called into question as Yolandi Visser's presence here presents the group as a legitimate triple threat. For all of Ninja's lyrical dexterity, Yolandi answers in kind: she's a spitfire on helium, just as prone to shooting out aggressive rapidfire rhymes as she is to singing the hooks. Trading verses with Ninja in "Fatty Boom Boom," she threatens to "kick you in the teeth, hit you on the head with the mic" and you can't help but feel that she might.
Running roughshod rhymes over each other with bragadocious flare and aggressive charm, Die Antwoord finally reveal themselves for what they truly are: audio graffiti. Like real graffiti, one does not need to understand it to "get" it- one needs only to see it. Bearing witness is the only true validation any art ever gets and to probe deeper only invites madness, or worse, pretense (exhibit A: see the size of this post). For now, bearing witness may be the only sense we'll ever get to make of Die Antwoord.
*yes, i know that frank ocean came out earlier this year. but, truth be known, the bulk of this was written before that. real life obligations put this on the shelf for the better part of this year, so we'll just pretend that i finished it much much earlier. as fer frank, his coming out genuinely suprised me and bully on him for at least sparking conversation.
