WTF Die Antwoord

Want to take an acid trip minus the acid? That's what this South African trio is all about. Die Antwoord (Afrikaans for "The Answer") members Ninja, Yolandi Visser and "God" AKA DJ Hi-Tek were formed in 2008. How can I describe them? Combine insane, colorful style, "zef" culture, prolific profanity, unique and disturbing imagery and a gleeful rejection of mainstream musical norms. Believe me when I tell you, you've never seen or heard anything like them.



Their music is categorized as "rap rave." Give it a listen.

"Fatty Boom Boom" (Theatrical)

"Fatty Boom Boom" (Lyrics only)

"Ugly Boy" (Lyrics only)

"Fok Julle Naaiers" (Lyrics only) (A warning: this one's a bit much.)

And just what is "zef"?

From Wikipedia:

"Die Antwoord's musical and visual style incorporates elements of a 'zef' culture, described as modern and trashy, appropriating out-of-date, discarded cultural elements.Yo-Landi said, 'It's associated with people who soup their cars up and rock gold and shit. Zef is, you're poor but you're fancy. You're poor but you're sexy, you've got style.'"

Critics have undervalued their work as capitalizing on shock value. Shock, they do, and well, but there is real talent underneath all that craziness. I was introduced to them when they appeared in the film Chappie in 2015. Lyrics are somewhat typical if not often crude, centering on sex, drugs, and general egomania. I like Ninja, but for me, Yolandi makes them. She just does it for me: her accent, her raps, her "fuck-it" sensibility, and her proclivity toward horror make her unforgettable.

I'll admit, they may be an acquired taste. But bottom line: raps are brilliant and weird. Weirdly brilliant. Beats are bad-ass and catchy. My only complaint is there are simply too many penises: lyrically, figuratively, and in reality. If you watch the video for "Evil Boy," you'll agree.

Imma start saying "fok" instead of fuck.

J. L. Dodd

"We are the underbelly. No one has ever presented that. It was something people were shy or scared of - they swept it under the carpet. We made it our thing." - Ninja

"Music used to be about people not giving a fuck. We're taking it back there." - Yo-Landi

On their March 2015 show in Sydney:

"It's the kind of show that would be used as a torture device on most normal, sane people. Ear-splitting, rude, self-indulgent and manic. One man's hell is this reviewer's heaven."-Rachel Olding, The Sydney Morning Herald

Links:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Die_Antwoord

http://www.smh.com.au/entertainment/music/die-antwoord-review-earsplitting-rude-monstrous--and-heavenly-20150306-13wuci.html

And the crazy continues ...

Something has awakened in me a thirst for knowledge unlike that which I have ever known. Even when I was in college it wasn't like this. Back then, I had a very good reason to bury myself in textbooks, i.e., I was paying for it, not to mention the eternally-motivating concept of grades. Now, I'm not sure what is driving me. But I'm being driven, of that, there is no doubt. Is this an intellectual awakening? A search for enlightenment? Purpose? A cry for help? A mid-life crisis? A normal part of adulting? Am I descending (or ascending, depending on how you look at it) into madness? Or, most likely, all of the above?

The effects of this are most evident in the books I'm reading. Books. Rarely in my life have I read more than one book at a time. I know some people do this often, but in the past, I couldn't comprehend why a person would divert their focus from a literary work, especially one he or she found worthwhile. (In truth, I probably thought these people slackers. Apologies.) The only time I remember doing this was when I was deep in my Lovecraft/Poe phase. I would read one story or work, then take a break by reading something lighter. (This see-sawing is also necessary when reading non-fiction, not that I do that often. I need fiction in my life. I need to go somewhere else for a little while.) But lately, I keep finding myself thinking, "Ooh, I want to read that." For instance, my husband told me about Ursula Le Guin (The New York Times described her as "America's greatest living science fiction writer."). I want to read her work. My friend wants to start reading books by "crazy Russians," like Dostoevsky. I want to read those, too. A friend of a friend recommends Hot Pterodactyl Boyfriend. Sure, why the fuck not?

The bad part is, I have never been especially good at multi-tasking, and now I find myself at an unfortunate literary crossroad. I'm currently reading The Somnambulist by Jonathan Barnes, Wizard and Glass by Stephen King, V. by Thomas Pynchon, as well as Selected Writings from Carl Jung. I'm also dabbling in a short history of the Necronomicon that is accompanied by some scary-ass artwork. We're talking nightmare shit. I told my sister about it and she said, "Why? Why would you read that?" to which I answered, in so many words, "Because." Anyway, I've been able to stave off starting Hyperion by Dan Simmons and but only just. Long story short, I'm lacking focus (you already know this, people).

Another effect of transient thinking:  my blog entries have increased, while the work on my novel has decreased. Okay, stopped. Until today that is. I'm so going to work on it today, damn it. Still, I see it as not necessarily a bad thing (rose-colored glasses and all). I'm accepting of my new found chaotic thinking. I'm so very "roll with it" right now.

Another theory is that all this is being caused by my uptake in caffeine. I'm a caffeine fiend these days. In my mind, caffeine equals productivity, be it reading, writing, house-cleaning or just being awake late at night. My excuse? I'm being enabled. The intricacies of my relationship with coffee intrigue me, though, since in the past, I've used alcohol to inspire me, though I haven't gone that route for some time. For now, I'll continue to abstain. I want to see where this is going.

All aboard, people. Blaine the pain is taking us to crazy town. Benny's coming, Mr. Moon, Cthulhu and the shadow archetype. It's gonna be fun.

J.L. Dodd