Tag Archives: die antwoord

Drawing the Line

Hey faithful readers and subscribers,

We recently did a little bit of an impromptu project with Lauren Hochfelden Photography, using the uprise of the new ‘zef’ culture as subject matter and inspiration. The question was: why is the zef culture so appealing for our youth?

Of course, the conclusion lies somewhere amidst the hazy uncertainty of the individual opinion, so no answer was reached… but not all was lost; we got some heavy scum photo’s for ya’ll to check out. Here are just a few of the good ones; for the full gallery, check here. Later!

(Note: Not actual narcotics)

zefzefzefzef

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Crazy/Beautiful

-Lourens Loki Corleone

I hate Tuesdays. Well, actually, I lie. I hate Tuesdays while I’m at work, but the nights I have The Akelian Circus at Bella Venezia to look forward to. You don’t know about it? Then you must have been living under a rock the last few weeks.

Student Night. Pizza + 2 Shooters. The Akelian Circus. I think I’ve said enough. Now where was I?

Ah yes – its Tuesday. I was going to do some blogging for y’all yesterday, but my post-weekend fatigue lead to a severe case of procrastination. Today seems like a good day for writing, however, so let’s jump right in with…

Friday.

My weekend started off well. I was offered a ride home with Brother Dennis “Quirkyshirts”¬†Krige, so besides getting off from work a little earlier, I had the luxury of good company, good music and a few damn good laughs. “Dennis, why are you so grumpy if your shirts are so quirky?”.

Getting home, I was met with a very disturbing sight. Ian “Eaglehart” Kay and Nick “Dragon” Frost were fast asleep, each hogging a couch in the lounge.

I don’t know about you, but I find this kind of behaviour unacceptable, especially coming home from work on a Friday. That said, I let them sleep and Dennis and I got stuck into a fierce Burnout: Paradise party of the Xbox. I won, of course, a fact that I didn’t let Dennis forget. Name-calling and questioning of sexual orientation is then naturally targeted at the defeated opponent, since we are just mature like that.

It was around this time that Nick’s cousin Andrea arrived, ready to party. We tasked her with waking up the fallen brethren, which is not as easy as it might seem. At this point, they have been sleeping right through engines screaming, cars crashing and two really mature twenty-somethings yelling blistering profanities at each other. The only advice I could give her was “Stay out of swinging distance”. Others have not heeded this advice when waking Nick…they are dead now.

Brutal murders aside, I was ready for a night on the town. Eventually everyone was prepared for the night ahead, and we headed to Somerset West’s own infamous Springbok Pub. Back in the day it used to be Townsquare, but after recently opening again as Springboks it has quickly gained favour amongst the crazy/beautiful denizens of Somerset West. (I said it! I said it!)

We did our normal rounds through the venue, making our way to the dance floor bar where Springboks’ famous two-for-one special was in effect. Drink in hand, we started scouting for a table. Somewhere in the middle of all this, we bumped into Phil and Jessie, as well as our new friends Danielle and Kaygan.

We occupied a table on the “Rhodesian Arms” side of the club (though they don’t really call it that in Somerset West) … this is when we hit the time warp.

The whole town seemed to be out and about, as trying to recall everyone that I talked to and saw that night is making my brain tick worryingly. We were joined by Erick Smit, who joined the Wild West blog’s team the same day. Welcome! Where was I? Oh yes, the time warp. Time seemed to speed forward at a blistering pace, for some or other reason I remember the entire night in fast forward, except for one inconsistency…the drinks on the table never decreased, they just seemed to increase! This was thanks to Andrea who, for lack of something even cooler to say, likes to party. So, party we did.

Very soon it was 4 o’clock and our designated driver was put to good use. We headed back to the Eiffel Tower, where our night ended.

Saturday.

What felt like 2 minutes later I woke up, quite sure that I died somewhere during the night. I shuffled unenthusiastically to the lounge but couldn’t muster up the energy to watch anything, so I made use of the bed in our lounge (convenient, no?) to catch up some more dying.

Around 12pm I rose from the dead to some very good news. Andrea’s mother very kindly invited Nick and I for a recovery breakfast at Cafe Picasso, and food seemed like the holy grail my body needed at that moment. A cream soda and a burger later, I felt like a new man. A new man, with food shock.

After breakfast, Nick and I walked to town for undisclosed reasons. This reason NOT being that Nick needed to buy himself some new girl-size jeans. I promise! He also invested in a 2l Stoney, which promised us energy on our walk home. Along the way we met his other cousin, the ever-cool Mike Rainbird, who heroically joined our quest for home, shade and couches.

I have no idea what happened the rest of the afternoon…not that it mattered, because we had a pretty good night ahead of us.

Andrea was keen to join us for another night of debauchery, so around dinner time Ian, Nick and I headed to her place in Gordon’s Bay for some delicious chicken burgers. Nick’s GHD-senses were tingling, and pretty soon I had to witness more hair-straightening that I ever care to see again.¬† That goes for you too, Ian. Tsk tsk…as if I wouldn’t write about it.

Andrea’s friend Hayley joined us, and we headed down to Long Bar where Kaygan was having her birthday party. It started off nice and chilled, with loads of introductions and conversations populating the early part of the evening. The boys were not complaining…there were beautiful people everywhere! I received a welcome phone call from my brother-by-name Loki, and pretty soon he joined the fray. A bit later, a few more additions unexpectedly walked through the doors. Nick Kuiper, Kaydee and Karen…ready for action.

The night at Long Bar was quite entertaining, the gang of girls looking like they were having a crazy time. Ever hear an 18-year old girl singing Eye Of The Tiger? I have.

After midnight, thoughts turned to the next venue which would inevitably (and luckily) be Springboks. Trying to organise for everyone to get to Somerset West side proved more complicated to plan than a bank heist, so the boys set off on their own, promising to show up at the next venue. We headed to the Eiffel Tower for a pit stop, and then rushed to Springboks.

We were thankful to see Springboks was extremely lively. We also unexpectedly ran into Dennis, who had forsaken us for other things that evening. Phil also joined us, and then the Springboks time warp hit us again. No need to explain what happened next! Very soon the venue was closed, and we were ushered outside.

Being a relatively big group at this point, we were still not ready for the night to be over so a bunch of us decided to head to the Eiffel Tower, while a few others called it a night.

The party at the Eiffel Tower was quite chilled, but cool. Let’s not mention the terrible pasta that was made, but at least the music was good and the drinks were cold. This carried on until daylight struck, at which point I decided to call it a night. Or a day. Whichever you prefer.

Sunday day came and went very quickly, but this was too be expected. Kyle came to visit us at some point, but it seems like I hardly opened my eyes before it seemed that Nick and Phil were busy getting ready for The Akelian Circus gig. Actually, I think this might be because they actually headed towards Nameless relatively early, with some Valentines Day event happening.

Slightly reluctantly and slightly fragile, I decided to go with after some convincing from Nick Frost’s side.

I hate missing the Akelian Circus, and it turned out to be the perfect end to my weekend, as always, so see you all next Sunday night!

Oh and as a last thought… has anyone heard the new Die Antwoord song? It’s available for download at their website. It’s called ‘Fish Paste’ and it’s rough… but awesome!

Also, I’ll be adding in more photos as I get them, be sure to check facebook for updates from my side.

Till next time, love you all.

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The Question? The Answer: The Truth

-Lourens Loki Corleone

So, brothers and sisters, we find ourselves in a very interesting time for local music.

For a long period of its existence, South Africa was cut off from the outside world and locally produced entertainment had to adhere to old-fashioned values and sentiments.

So, when the veil lifted we seemed to make a grab for every shred of international culture we could. We were hungry for something new, something fresh.

In the span of just a few years we lost a lot of who we are in the raging torrent of outside influences. Every 20- or thirty-something woman wanted to be Carrie from Sex & the City, every teenage girl wanted to be Britney or Amy Lee, every boy wanted to be Bam Margera or James Hepburn and the men…well, the men just kept watching rugby religiously like nothing has changed.

By the time we hit the 2000’s, we were slaves to what the world wants us to be. Not that we lost our culture…no, not at all. We saw the acceptance of the world as a act of rebellion against the older, more conservative generation.

Then, something strange happened. The older generation, maybe remembering their own youth, started accepting the strangeness and chaos that seem to define our generation, and we didn’t like it one bit. No Sir.

What do you do to liberate yourselves and at the same time manage to shock a generation that has been battered and bruised by the times so much, they are numb and blind to your constant changing “scene”?

My theory is this: The truth.

We have rejected big parts of our own culture for so long, that it has become the next big step in defining who we are while still being foreign enough to keep the generation gap intact. Why we (subconsciously) feel the need for this is a whole different debate, of course.

Instead of burying ourselves deep in foreign culture, it seems as though we realised that just showing our true colours would be enough to shake the foundations we love to taunt so much.

Why not scratch the stereotypes wide open? Why not speak the truth about the world our generation finds itself in? Not only can we all relate, but we can finally free ourselves from our self-imposed cultural shackles that hold us back as a people and as a country.

So, what is the secret behind this revelation?

Like many things in this world, it all starts with music. Pioneers like Die Antwoord have shocked us all by telling us exactly what we want to hear: The truth.

Singing and rapping about their own experiences seem to cultural barriers as we all have the same hopes, the same dreams and the same country we call home.

This started a tidalwave that is still going strong, even spawning collaborations with other established local artists, so I suggest looking at these videos. It speaks much louder than I could ever explain:

Die Antwoord – Enter The Ninja (dirty version)

Die Heuwels Fantasties feat. Jack Parow – Die Vraagstuk


Jack Parow – Cooler As Ekke

All I know is, “never seen zef so fre$h”!

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