It's not the first song to juxtapose a light, folksy touch with a rhythmic urgency, and it's not the first to play a staccato beat with a long, blurry synth line- a hypothetical bibliography here would be pointless. In a way, it's a moment in culture that makes minor standouts like "Collector"- a song with zero surprises- sound slightly surprising. Retro is a starting point we take for granted- the challenge is making your rehash sophisticated and seamless. Most guitar-based indie bands don't have anything new to say these days, just vaguely new ways to say them. Plus: those haircuts! Those tattoos! The progeria! During the breakdown, Ninja goggles at just how awesome his own song is, and how he overcame all the doubters to get here: "Look at me now, all up in the Interweb!" So, yeah, it's a novelty, but a great one, and rarer than that: a gag that wills itself real. -Eric Grandyħ6. Yo-Landi Vi$$er sings a supplicant, elfin-voiced chorus that rhymes "samurai" with "butterfly." The video is all ridiculous mean-mugging from Ninja and Comic-Con schoolgirl sexuality from Vi$$er. Main MC Ninja nimbly boasts about (duh, what else) his ninjitsu bona fides over a foundation of stereo-panned arpeggios, trance lead synths, and canned yet kinetic kicks, snares, and skittering hi-hats. Both the song and the clip are pure cheese, but delivered with the utmost commitment. Whether you think these guys are South Africa's Yelawolf or just the zef Joaquin Phoenix, it's difficult to deny the instant, insistent appeal of Die Antwoord's de facto theme song and accompanying, overnight meme-making video. Later he worries that "everyone" seems to be siding with "charlatans." Hell is other people this song is something else. "When I look at you, I reach for a piano wire," Johan Duncanson murmurs on the song's second verse. But Thurston Moore's anti-capitalist opening rant- omitted from a version I've heard over corporate airwaves- isn't here just for kicks. Originally titled "Spring Time", the song is as radiant as the season: all cheery keyboards, jazzy guitars, and muted reverb. For the Radio Dept., a long-running Swedish pop group that previously had their biggest international success with the Marie Antoinette soundtrack, "Heaven's on Fire" is a perfect solution. Let's also say, hypothetically, you're a little irritated by that fact, but you're clever and talented enough to realize that nobody wants to hear a dreamy soft-rock band's sour grapes. Let's say you're one of your country's most underrated bands.