Muggs started calling himself The Black Goat. He sulked out the door. That moment outside the store, the two of them crying in each other's arms, it sparked a romance deep and rough as the sea. 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 is calculated, while she is unbridled. Whatever was said or not said, misrepresented or not, people read it, and Ninja is flustered.
Die Antwoord set out to release five albums, and it has to stop there. The group will continue to create in musical spheres and otherwise, chasing directorial dreams, releasing a movie, touring, whatever it feels like. Yolandi found him gushing, lost and hopeless because of some dumb magazine. He really raps it out hard and fast. Muggs gave Die Antwoord free rein. Fans will notice a softening of the rapper's hard accent.
He is strong, and she is fierce. Kanye West had them over to his house, and they posted a video of themselves chillin' in a bathroom talking about how weird he is. We're such fan boys of Muggs', and then he came in very casual and just gave us a room in his studio. It feels like fucking showtime. 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.
Equally inspired by the likes of Gucci Mane and Aphex Twin, they come off like a mix of Marilyn Manson and Aqua. With the album officially out, the band readies for a North American tour, all the while holding down at Muggs' studio, writing the fifth and penultimate chapter in a never-ending story. But now, it definitely feels like we've passed that test, and we're ready for the final one. Every manga has a hero, and every hero has a start. Our hero didn't look cool, but she didn't judge. They represent a transformation, a coming of age, two years of Die Antwoord's life compressed into one product.
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'd been rhyming for years, but nobody gave a shit to ask his name, let alone print it. Die Antwoord climbed, jumped, and there's nothing left but to fly. She just cried with him. Five dope albums is tough enough, and Ninja would rather leave the legacy perfect than muck it up with a slow decline. He started calling himself God.
Die Antwoord stands at the top of that mountain ready to soar. It's fucking fascinating … she's just surprising and twisted. Their band — the technicolored, twisted, rave-rap trio of dance and destruction — didn't exist. He no longer needs a super suit to deliver deadly rhymes. The beats got darker, the mood in the room shifted, and somehow, The Black Goat got Yolandi to soften.
They'd started to make music together, but it didn't have that sauce. They painted it in signature black and white scrawl. He's Die Antwoord's rock, and Yolandi is the spontaneous nymph. It sets the tone as strange and playful as any of its precedents, but these 16-tracks are different. I'm singing it every day, smiling like a retard driving down the street on the way to the studio … I'm fucking excited, like aahhh, but I'm also digging the day to day shit, you know? Yolandi and Muggs told him to keep it going, but Ninja dared to let go. He didn't even realize he liked her yet, but he did want to impress her, like all the time.
It gnawed at his soul. You fuse with it, you feel a surge of power, but after a while, you know it has to end. Imagine falling in love with someone, creating a band, having a baby, and hitting the road, all the while launching toward some kind of underground superstardom. It evokes strength and assuredness. We're in lane four now, and this is shit turbo-boosted, fucking nitrous, fucking everything's tricked the fuck out in this illegal fucking Zef-mobile, and we're about to drop a gear and go waaaaah, just switch lanes.
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. 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. The inevitable moment came when they had to choose love or the band. Not to say they don't like people or pop music. Let's climb up the mountain, and let's just jump off the top. We all work for da nice time kid, and I try to just make sure she has a nice time, and then everything's fucking awesome. He made himself part of the crew.
. Muggs is like this heavy-handed retarded kid banging on a piano. Next year's album will be Die Antwoord's last, but it won't be the last of Die Antwoord. It's a dynamic so key to Die Antwoord's majesty, but it almost destroyed them. They left South Africa's underground to land among the Los Angeles stars. She's just this fucking free spirit that I dig guiding.