Die Antwoord brought an over-the-top party to Crossroads KC last night

Die Antwoord
Crossroads KC
Wednesday, September 17

You could hear the music from the Crossroads crystal-clear all the way to Czar last night. As you got closer, the bass increased to the point where it was thumping in your chest as you entered the venue. This was just from the opening DJ, blasting a mixture of trap and dubstep, with semiattentive audience members swaying and nodding heads as they chatted, waiting for the South African headliners to take the stage.

Confetti from the previous night’s Flaming Lips concert still littered the ground, and after an hour of the DJ, the crowd was restless. As his gear was carted offstage, the audience began to buzz and vibrate. The lights would focus on them, and a roar would erupt. The preshow music — sounding like a mix of Carmina Burana and the score for Rosemary’s Baby — lasted a full 20 minutes, leaving the audience on tenterhooks, every lull bringing an anticipatory cheer.

By the time DJ Hi-Tek took the stage, the audience was primed to explode, and that they did. Screams, cheers and absolute rapture greeted the appearance of Ninja and Yolandi onstage. Every pelvic thrust, every twitch, every middle finger raised up —  it all had the Crossroads crowd screaming and yelling and frantically dancing. The crowd had turned out in outfits that glittered, showed skin, and visibly demonstrated their absolute willingness to get as freaky as the act onstage. They were ready for this shit, so everything was like a rally cry — for about two and a half songs.

Then, it kind of settled in. The sustained audience reception of Die Antwoord’s combustible hip-hop and electro had the occasional scream, and people cheered and clapped as each song ended, but the crowd wasn’t exactly a mass of moving flesh. As Yolandi chirped and Ninja spit verse, there were pockets of rapturous ass-shaking fans, but the rest of the concertgoers seemed content to stand and take in the spectacle.

True, the spectacle was impressive: a blazing light show, costumed dancers that shook and pranced, and visual projections that emphasized the onstage antics, keeping everything weird. It was interesting, but it never seemed to really set in and gel.

The way the show played out, it sometimes made Die Antwoord seem like novelty music. Ninja had his rhymes, Yolandi was fascinating to watch and – really – she has one of the most interesting voices in music, and Hi-Tek has some good beats. But last night, the band came across as though it were an amped-up parody of American music as seen through foreign eyes, replete with ass-shaking dancers, over-the-top sexuality, and boisterous braggadocio.

Of course, that might be the point for Die Antwoord, which has survived since its inception in 2009 largely because of its shock value. No one expects riveting social commentary from a group best known for a song entitled “I Fink You Freaky,” but songs like “Rich Bitch”  – with lyrics like I’m rich bitch yo yo yo, A mothafuckin’ rich bitch – were either studies in stealthy irony or one-dimensional pranks. For those in the audience last night who weren’t too drunk to notice, it sometimes seemed that the ridiculous stage presence of Ninja and Yo-Landi was a smartly offensive joke being played out.

There were plenty in the audience who were either happily oblivious to this or thought they were in on it. In the end, though Die Antwoord could be unsettling – it takes a certain amount of gall to withstand all the abrasion the band stitches together in its wildly over-the-top live show – it seems that whatever the joke is, it’s likely on anyone who wants to take them seriously.