The group will continue to create in musical spheres and otherwise, chasing directorial dreams, releasing a movie, touring, whatever it feels like. Next year’s album will be Die Antwoord’s last, but it won’t be the last of Die Antwoord. Whatever was said or not said, misrepresented or not, people read it, and Ninja is flustered. “I’m just drifting and chatting and shit, which I’ve found is a huge mistake when you don’t know who you’re dealing with.” As he tells it, he was “dealing” with a writer that turned a two-hour interview into a hype piece about a bogus Die Antwoord breakup. “It’s my fault, I just like talking.” he says. He’s even more juiced to say the band’s fifth and final album is coming along better still, and before this goes any further, Ninja needs to clear the air. He’s excited like a kid on 50 Pixie Stix with a Sharpie ready to draw penises on his teacher’s face. “(Even the title) sounded like a little triumph not a triumph over anyone or anything to do with the outside world, just this personal, little, beautiful story that goes through all these different twists and turns.” “I love everything about Die Anwtoord, even when we fuck up, but this album, it’s perfect,” Ninja beams over the phone. It’s a good thing, because rats rule the world, and with the release of Die Antwoord’s fourth album, Mount Ninji and Da Nice Time Kid, they’re feeling pretty unstoppable. Still lacking a radio hit (no doubt in large part to a total disregard for censorship), they liken themselves to rats crawling below the underdog’s balls. They left South Africa’s underground to land among the Los Angeles stars. Ninja, Yolandi, and DJ Hi-Tek blasted through their glass ceiling on a drug-fueled spaceship covered in Zef grafitti.
Die Antwoord stands at the top of that mountain ready to soar.
That was the prologue, and today is chapter four. If you fly, then I’m gonna fly with you, and if your wings don’t work and you fall and land on the bushes, I’ll climb down the mountain and I’ll fix your wings and help you climb up again.”ĭie Antwoord Are Not Breaking Up After All Let’s climb up the mountain, and let’s just jump off the top. “I’m gonna stick with you, and I’m gonna climb with you. “You’re the most exciting person I’ve ever met,” she said. Our hero didn’t look cool, but she didn’t judge. Yolandi found him gushing, lost and hopeless because of some dumb magazine. Watch Madonna Get Into the Groove While Dancing to 'Queens' Remix of Beyonce's 'Break My Soul' at… Nothing ever made it out of South Africa, he knew, but he couldn’t even get out of his own hood, and here was Yolandi, his fierce and frail twin-spirit with the rough and wild hair, gawking over some other, cooler guy. He’d been rhyming for years, but nobody gave a shit to ask his name, let alone print it. Yolandi had a crush on battle rapper Sammy Sparks, and one day, as they were hanging around some shop sifting through magazines, Yolandi spotted Sparks’ face in the glossy pages. He didn’t even realize he liked her yet, but he did want to impress her, like all the time. They’d started to make music together, but it didn’t have that sauce. Their band Die Antwoord – the technicolored, twisted, rave-rap trio of dance and destruction – didn’t exist. That’s where Ninja was 12 years ago, the masculine yang to partner Yolandi’s erratic yin. “I was right on edge so much, I just burst out crying.”
In this one, we find our hero slumped against his car, crying like a “little bitch.” Every manga has a hero, and every hero has a start.
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