Die Antwoord, Bangs @ ThePrince Bandroom, Melbourne(02/02/2011)

Thu 3rd Feb, 2011 in Gig Reviews

The joke is on them. The joke is on us. Whichever side of the fence you sit on, there was plenty of intrigue about Die Antwoord’s first (and quite possibly, only) visit to our shores. The freak-meme-rave-rappers are still riding the crest of their internet fame, and a series of Big Day Out performances have already proved that they’re nothing to be scoffed at in the live arena. A sold-out Prince was on hand to find out what all the fuss is about. But let’s remember; long before Die Antwoord existed on the internet, there was Bangs.

“We’re not here to fight, we’re here to party!” This was certainly accurate- there was nothing remotely aggressive about Bangs’ set. Sporting the backpack-rapper look a couple of years too late, the Melbourne-based Sudanese internet phenomenon took to the stage all smiles and well-intended bravado. The whole joke may be somewhat at Bangs’ expense, but when he and his two hype-men bounce around the stage with such glorious positivity and enthusiasm, it’s hard not to laugh with him rather than at him. Having removed his shirt, Bangs rounded off a highly enjoyable (albeit hugely flawed) set with the Youtube double-hit of Meet me on Facebook and Take U To Da Movies. Given the latter has almost twice as many views as last year’s Hottest 100 winner (over 4,680,000 in total), well, perhaps the joke is on Angus and Julia Stone.

A tightly packed Prince Bandroom were fittingly treated to 2010’s other musical memes The Bed Intruder Song and Willow Smith’s Whip My Hair in-between sets, before chants of “DIE ANTWOORD, DIE ANTWOORD” and “Pump up the beats” began to swell. A ghoul-mask attired DJ Hi-Tek struts out to his deck, loops some filthy words over discordant beats and as the crowd sweats and pushes for position, the two sharpest haircuts in modern music bound out to screams and applause. Yo-Landi Vi$$ier’s eerie intro into Enter The Ninja is shouted back at her by the crowd, but when Ninja breaks out of his dramatic martial arts poses to drop his first verse, things get seriously messy. Arms flail and bodies thrash as Ninja barks “Zef so fresh,” before launching himself onto the outstretched hands of the front few rows.

The two make an irresistible duo on stage. Whether dancing or thrusting, they are constantly in motion. When Vi$$ier takes the lead on Wat Kyk Jy, Ninja moves to within an inch of the wall, gyrating repeatedly against it with all the frustrated aggression of a teenage boy. In Your Face sees Vi$$ier flashing more and more skin, while a slightly deranged Ninja is all eyeballs as he stares down the crowd. As the former sneaks offstage for a costume change, the latter continues to hype the room with a dodgy rap that samples Enya’s Sail Away. The audience are right into it though, and the Prince alone would have seen worse cover fillers to pad out a set.

“Where’s that mutthafokken rich bitch?” provides the cue for Yo-Landi Vi$$ier’s return, now tackily blinged-out in gold tights and a matching robe. Rich Bitch sees Ninja take a backseat, but with a rapid-fire delivery and an array of booty pumps, Vi$$ier proves she’s more than capable of commanding the stage on her own. Having given the crowd an education on the meaning of ‘Jou Ma Se Poes in a Fish Paste Ja’ (Your mother’s private parts in a fish-paste jar), Ninja dedicated Fish Paste “to all the haters, who are jealous of Die Antwoord cos we’re better than you.” More crowd-surfing from the frontman ensues, before it’s his turn to skip offstage to have his 2 foot prop penis-microphone affixed. Vi$$ier maintains interest with something resembling a strip-show, before Die Antwoord’s massive inflatable penis-mascot is erected and Ninja swings back onto stage to spit Evil Boy down into his latex member. Stripping down further to his Dark Side of The Moon boxer shorts, Ninja joins his partner in hopping about the stage on Beat Boy, and the whole of the Prince descends into something resembling a sweaty rave.

Enormous cheers at the set’s close make an encore somewhat inevitable, but Die Antwoord take pleasure in teasing the crowd from backstage with a brief rendition of Bangs’ Take U To Da Movies before charging out in Pokemon-themed bodysuits. Ninja cuts the most frightening Pikachu around as he and Vi$$ier pretend to enact domestic violence on one another during Doos Dronk, and even though the crowd are still craving more, the set is finally brought to a close.

Clips of the band spruiking their “next-level beats” made on a “PC computer” serve to undermine any real authenticity Die Antwoord hope to impart. Certainly they are able to provide some sort of commentary on ‘Zef’ or more broadly, South African culture. But when you’re part of a heaving mass of bodies watching Ninja rap into a penis-microphone, it becomes hard to over-intellectualise Die Antwoord. The energy of their live performances and commitment to what they do makes it hard not to be seduced by them, or at least, to marvel at the spectacle of it all. And whether it is inducing an ‘Aussie Aussie Aussie, Oi Oi Oi’ chant or charging $55 to a gig that sells out completely, it’s clear that ultimately, the joke is on us.