I discovered the three-piece Afrikaans outfit Bittereinder through the internet and fell in love with them because of their live performance. Their music, a bass-heavy flurry of high-energy drops and subdued melodies, develops a different personality on stage, often in stark contrast to the studio recordings. Bleeps become filtered echoes, drum patterns change, or disappear completely. Bittereinder is Afrikaans for ‘bitter ender’. According to Wikipedia’s edited wisdom, “Bittereinders were a faction of Boer guerrilla fighters, resisting the forces of the British Empire in the later stages of the Second Boer War (1899-1902).”

Jaco Van Der Merwe, the group’s emcee, has spoken on multiple occasions of how he grew up at odds with his Afrikaner identity. He went to an English school. For a long time, he recorded exclusively in English as Ajax. For him and his bandmates – producer/vocalist Peach van Pletzen and designer/video artist Louis Minnaar – Bittereinder was a vehicle to reclaim their identity; to redefine, somewhat, what it means to them to be Afrikaner.

Their first album was released in 2010. Entitled ‘n Ware Verhaal (“A true story”), it stood apart from what noteworthy Afrikaans-rapping emcees were doing at that time, substituting Die Antwoord’s cultural appropriation with an honest exploration of their own identity, and eschewing Jack Parow‘s publicity-hungry antics for a bespoke, almost underground approach to their music-making. The album is a considered blend of Peach’s production wizardry (he also has a solo career as Yesterday’s Pupil), Louis’ striking visual identity (check out this project with his sister), and Jaco’s searing lyrics.

Jaco easily fits among the upper echelon of Afrikaans hip-hop royalty, a grand list of refined artists ranging from Jitsvinger with his glaring street poetics, to Jaak’s praiseworthy, at-times-comedic re-telling of local, national, and international stories using the most dense of Cape Flats ebonics.

He’s on a first-name basis with Toast Coetzer, the veteran journalist who also fronts the band Buckfever Underground (together they’re two-thirds of Walkie Talkie); he has two of South Africa’s most talented artists as bandmates; and collectively they put on one of the best live shows in the country. Their second album, Dinkdansmasjien (2012), takes its cue from hard-edged electronic music, something they started exploring on the first outing. The collaborations also range from genre-straddling artists like rapper Hemelbesem or this one with vocalist Chris Chameleon:

 

Further Reading

Djinns in Berlin

At the 13th Berlin Biennale, works from Zambia and beyond summon unseen forces to ask whether solidarity can withstand the gaze of surveillance.

Colonize then, deport now

Trump’s deportation regime revives a colonial blueprint first drafted by the American Colonization Society, when Black lives were exiled to Africa to safeguard a white republic.

On Safari

On our annual publishing break, Gaza’s genocide continues to unfold in real time yet slips from public grasp. This is not just a crisis of politics, but of how reality is mediated—and why we must build spaces where meaning can still take root.

The battle over the frame

As Hollywood recycles pro-war propaganda for Gen Z, Youssef Chahine’s ‘Djamila, the Algerian’ reminds us that anti-colonial cinema once turned imperial film language against its makers—and still can.

Fictions of freedom

K. Sello Duiker’s ‘The Quiet Violence of Dreams’ still haunts Cape Town, a city whose beauty masks its brutal exclusions. Two decades later, in the shadow of Amazon’s new development, its truths are more urgent than ever.

When things fall apart

Against a backdrop of global collapse, one exhibition used Chinua Achebe’s classic to hold space for voices from the Global South—and asked who gets to imagine the future.

The General sleeps

As former Nigerian president Muhammadu Buhari’s death is mourned with official reverence, a generation remembers the eight years that drove them out.

The grift tank

In Washington’s think tank ecosystem, Africa is treated as a low-stakes arena where performance substitutes for knowledge. The result: unqualified actors shaping policy on behalf of militarists, lobbyists, and frauds.