Inside the “secret box” was a collection of nude photographs of girls who had visited or stayed at the farm. “It was Ninja who finally convinced Yolandi to move off the farm when Wanga…showed Ninja and Yolandi a secret box.” They allege that the in-his-fifties Laubscher would attempt to woo the then 19-year-old Yolandi Visser with love letters and requests to take nude photographs of her. Andre didn’t own the farm, he just squatted there.” Now on the farm lived a creepy old man with big beard and fat tummy called Andre. “So… Ninja met ¥o-landi a loooooong time ago on a strange little farm in Cape Town. “K so here’z da scoop about Wanga kids,” they begin.
DIE ANTWOORD KIDS SERIES
Now Die Antwoord have shared their side of the story in a series of dispatches posted to their official Facebook page, in which they claim that Laubscher’s narrative is untrue and that his statement to the press are a result of the news that Die Antwoord are set to star in a Hollywood film. Even more damningly, Jack claimed to have signed a contract with Die Antwoord’s then-label Interscope Records while still underage. Jack also claimed that he is owed royalties from an appearance on the Die Antwoord track Evil Boy as well as in the song’s controversial video. “But people were paying $250 just to get into the concert,” he said. He was paid SA$100 to perform at a Die Antwoord gig, boosted to $200 after complaining to the band. And then I became a DJ…And then suddenly I wrote a song with them,” said Jack. In the City Press report, members of The Glue Gang Boys allege that Die Antwoord would severely underpay them for their services as backup dancers for Die Antwoord’s live shows, as well as appearances on songs and in videos for them, with member Wanga Jack being particularly vocal. “I’ve been to prison twice, and in prison you learn this language and there are these …he was obviously looking for this kind of image for himself.” Diddy.“ used to come here and talk to us about our past and where we come from,” said one member. Whoever they are, $o$ is utterly unique and downright dazzling if you dream of a Grand Guignol hosted by P. If it matters, none of this is real, and Die Antwoord are actually conceptual artists, presenting “exaggerated versions” of their “inner zef”. Elsewhere, your mom’s private parts end up in a “Fish Paste” jar as an insult, and Ninja’s idea of a sexual encounter always requires post-coital mops and buckets. Jamaican dancehall is referenced on “Evil Boy,” which turns Little Red Riding Hood into a story of phallic bragging, as is dancehall’s iffy relationship with the “batty boy”, because Die Antwoord are hardly politically correct. When “Scopie” - this album is chock-full of NSFW South African slang - samples “Short Dick Man,” it’s clever, and borrowing from the Bronski Beat for the epic sex track “Beat Boy” is just one example of the album’s fascinating love of old synth music, from new wave to gabba hardcore with a little love thrown dubstep’s way. A third, shadow member, DJ Hi-Tek, supplies much of the music, making wonderfully outlandish decisions like sampling Smile.dk’s sugary hit “Butterfly” for the massive “Enter the Ninja,” a hypnotic motivational track that should pump up any given mutant before they enter the ring.
DIE ANTWOORD KIDS PLUS
First, there’s the setup: a duo of South African’s trashiest trailer kids, including a lead male rapper, Ninja, who is obsessed with his namesake plus an albino kewpie doll, pixie-voiced back-up singer, Yo-Landi Vi$$er, who often channels her inner sex goddess even when she’s traditionally unsexy. Even as these incredibly busy hip-hop-meets-rave productions rocket toward the brink of chaos, the listener is harnessed in by layers of hooks and plenty of cheeky musical ideas. On their debut album, $O$, the music is just as phantasmagoric, unsettling, and bursting with the same sick humor as their videos, but there’s also the same amount of care put into the product. Representing the Lady Gaga Era’s dark underbelly, South Africa’s Die Antwoord are the real “Little Monsters” of their time, brought to fame by a series of videos that looked like David Cronenberg and Keith Haring were co-directing.