Rhythm Online now offers Prepaid Credit purchases at great value (save up to 15%) for faster, more convenient downloads.

Click to learn more.

Gift Vouchers available here.

If you are a talented musician, published or unpublished, fill in the online electronic distribution agreement to have your tunes listed on Rhythm Online Music Store.

Earn commission on music sales by linking to Rhythm Online Music Store. Contact Rhythm.

Two rockers talking with guitar and voice, sometimes Valiant in the Namib desert, then again Koos at an old harbour in the quiet night. Together they take you on this road that never ends.

'Langs Die Goue Rivier', where they've left their mark, and where they want to come back, untie their shoes and sip a cold one. 'Dis die stories in die rook, en die wyn in die kitaar, dis die hoofstraat op die vlaktes en die engele in die bar, dis die lyne in die water en die whisky op die jet, dis die paartie in die teater, en die movies in die bed.'

You can see Valiant grinning with the first pluck of the strings, and just like that, you walk next to him. 'Dis die padkaart op die dashboard en die maan op die matras, dis die weerlig op die wipers en die t-shirts in my tas.' See how love - the kind that doesn't give up after the first sign of trouble - shows herself through Valiant's hands and guitar. 'Ja, dis hoe dit vir my is met my ysters in die vuur, ek tackle maar die slotsom op my eie manier, en as dit als verby is, en jy is nog hier, gaan bly ons op daai plaas langs die goue rivier.'

And now they show you Hillbrow, the litres of Tassenberg for the rocker's throat, the hungry poets, the old tackies, scuzzy bar owners, wild angry girls, heated hearts and the rebellion in the roots of rock. Koos says he knows he was quite the twerp in previous relationships - 'Ek wens ek kon jou troos, ek weet ek was 'n doos.' Ayup, he knows some people still hate his guts, but with ''n Kaartjie van Koos' he manages to balance that duh-yeah-I-was-a-doos with ' ... maar jy ken die ander Koos.' All in a catchy lil' reggae tune. Schweet, Bru.

But wait, now you get to open the door. ''n Jaar In Die Son' takes you to the sidewalks in Sunnyside, the communes, the road trips. Listen for the whisper of the sand from the West Coast lisping at your back door. The hunger for equilibrium, the grasping for peace in a world where sometimes you had to ask for money to phone home. 'Ek het gehuil op die skouers van vreemdelinge, ek het gelag in die gesig van gevaar, gebewe in die ysige wastelands en gesweet vir my nuwe kitaar.'

OK, so even if you don't know anything about guitar chords, the weirdly claustrophobic vibe of a commune, or the skanky old sheets of some hotel in a godforsaken little town, you will want what the rocker wants. 'Ek soek net een wolklose winter, ek soek net een windstil seisoen, geen sopnat en snerpende koue, gee my 'n jaar in die son.'

It gets deep and quiet in 'Salaam' written by Koos and Valiant's 'Kleinmond Koebaai'. The notes and thoughts will revisit you in the quiet times. Koos tells you about ''n Hawe waar die mossels klou', about the 'berg wat soos 'n tafel lyk ... waar wolke soos gordyne wapper by die oggendson verby...' and the old times where the harbour's company comprised elegant coaches, royalty and sailors suffering from eternal horny loins and scurvy. 'As die swart Suidoos om Valsbaai woel en drome waai in Langstraat rond, weet ek die duiwel rook sy pyp, met Van Hunks al halflyf teen die grond'.

You can taste an exotic sense of desperation in '...drie eeue, drie tale, drie kringe in my naam ...' and the horses are just behind you with 'dis 'n gekabbel oor keistene tussen perdepote deur'. Then - close your eyes and listen to the quiet climax in '... drie woorde vir Salaam, ek was eers bang dat ek alleen is, maar eintlik, eintlik is ons SAAM ...' The strength of this song is in the simple but evocative way Koos keeps you close. 'En ek onthou nog hoe jy myne was in die tyd van sout en sand, toe jy so op die grondpad my naam kon uitspel met jou hand.'

Valiant's song for Johannes Kerkorrel is a timeless gesture from deep within, taken out of an old suitcase where many stories linger. Stanislav Anguelov's accordion is soft and sad. 'Wie wou jy naby aan jou hê, by wie wou jy vir oulaas lê, by wie gooi jy jou laaste draai, Kleinmond koebaai.' Quite easy to start crying right here. Even if you never knew the man behind the piano, his Hillbrow or his poems. 'En toe verloor jy ons deur die krake in die pad, toe jou engele jou op ander paaie vat, en toe verloor ons jou op die lange duur, nou mis ons jou en wens jy was hier.'

Here's a kick right in the gut for George Bush. 'Who Do You Sue?' asks it straight, without hesitation. 'You left your footprints on the moon and your rubble in Iraq, your sportsmen are on steroids and your children are on crack, you're the leader of the free world, especially in Afghanistan.'

Koos talks with the tongue of many fathers. 'You believe in family values and you trust in God above, yet it's a crime to pray in school and you need Ecstasy to love.' The drums are cold and rigid. Koos continues. 'What's it to you when the only enemy that's left to kill is you? What do you do? Who do you sue?'

The anger goes on in his 'Liedjie Vir Marleen' where he sings for his daughter. 'Die ou mans wat die oorlog maak dink nooit aan jou, Marleen' and more so in '... soveel kinders wat daar ween, die stede woes en leeg onder Satan se hakskeen.' And of course he has to promise: 'Vir jou maak ek die wêreld reg, vir jou besteel ek keisers rot en kaal, vir jou haal ek die laaste trein voordat die vrede van ons planeet verdwyn, vir jou leer ek my mooiste, mooiste taal.'

Now. The blues takes you by the short an' curlies, shakes you like a baby rattle and throws you out in the street with the vrot old barfly. First there's the slow sensuous slide guitar, and gooseflesh erupts. 'Ek is die spook van die murasie, die herder van die veld, tussen troppe wilde diere en dae sonder geld.'

This is raw blues, with torn pants, dirty feet, weed in your hair and the virus of the guitar in your blood. Just let loose, your body will go nuts anyway. 'Die meeue krys soos deure sonder olie in die nag,' and your spine feels like a garden hose, slithering to a town with no name - '... nou los hy my in die reën, stokalleen, met my stukkende kitaar.'

''n Jaar In Die Son' is real, makes you grin, doesn't make excuses, kicks your butt, makes you dance like a voodoo priest and makes you sad.

A keeper, I scheme.

- Katvrou, SA Rock Digest, December 2003