kagablog

Koos has realised something: it’s us versus them. The Rainbow Nation has become a Bloedrivier, he says, the title of his new collection of protest songs. But not like you think. Koos Kombuis has always seen ‘them’ as those with power, and ‘us’ as those with less, especially those with none.

You will hear Koos angry, but he’s been that before. You will hear him rock out, again not for the first time. But has he ever, ever been so… right? And I’m talking about the music here, which is remarkable.

The English songs still suck, but for the most part, the album is a sequence of those wondrous occasions when Koos gets things right. Opener “Fokkol”, the arguably unpatriotic (and unarguably lekker) rock anthem you heard first on 24.com, is on a one way ticket to being played (and banned) anywhere you can order a brannewyn in Mzanzi.

“Reconciliation Day” is no radio hit, but it says more about the anger of many Afrikaners than Die Burger ever can. The incredibly dramatic number features the roars of K.O.B.U.S’ Francois Blom, operatic backing vocals by Lente Louw and soaring guitar solos. It’s as close to Meat Loaf as Koos will ever get.
It’s as close to Meat Loaf as Koos will ever get.
Bloedrivier also sees the return of Koos’ favourite genre: gatskeer blues. In his signature style, he takes on the ANC and Eskom in “Fat Cat Piete (ANC Tiete)” and the not-so-hidden track, an ode to Johannes Kerkorrel’s “Sit dit Af”. A special bullet is reserved for the President: “Ou Mbeki ek sal wed / Dat jy ‘n generator het.” Clearly, we are not in Klerksdorp anymore.

Why did he come back? It’s been five years since he last recorded an album, and many more since he’s been so pissed off. “Fokkol” begins like this: “Welkom op die airport, dis die jaar 2010; Julle’s seker hier om die sokker games te sien”. But before long the kind words give way to a sea of fokkol. Smell a metaphor, do you? Koos Kombuis, one of the staunchest believers in the rebirth of the country, was more disappointed than most when the milk started turning sour. And he thinks he knows who to blame.

I wish race could be kept out of this. And if by general consensus Bloedrivier was no more than a racially-inclusive club for everyone who wants to stick their tongue out at our national leadership, it could be. But there will be disagreement, and oh-so-much finger pointing.

Let it be, whatever. But don’t turn down the music, because in Bloedrivier, we have one of the best soundtracks to the struggles of the new-new South Africa to date.

- Niel Bekker