On the theme of trips and trivia, “Geraamtes in jou kas” is one of the Brixton Moord & Roof Orkes’s darkest songs. It comes from the band’s first album Spergebied (2002) and deals with the country’s troubled and violent history. It excavates the time and atmosphere when white, male conscripts were stationed in the country’s black townships in the 1980s. Generally, this is not a topic people want to be reminded of, but despite this, the track proves to remain popular on streaming services. “Geraamtes in jou kas” is one of the band’s most listened to songs on platforms such as Spotify and Apple Music. Maybe it is because of a reminder in the song that societies, like individuals, cannot permanently bury their past. It could also be Esme Evakwaad’s haunting background vocals.
Perhaps this thoughtful blog by John Samson explains why some people find meaning in listening to the track. The blog was published as part of a series on 1001 South African songs you have to listen to “before you go deaf”. In the blog he analyses the song’s lyrics and puts those in historical context.
Here is an English translation of the text:
THE SKELETONS IN YOUR CLOSET
A hand comes through your window
And your lightbulb is an eye that stares
Your ceiling starts to buckle downward
And fingernails scratch beneath the floorboards
‘Cause you know, you know
The skeletons in your closet have begun to stir
The clothes are crawling in the tumble dryer
And your boots are dancing in the hall
Your backpack slowly opens by itself
And grins along with your old coat on the wall
‘Cause you know, you know
The skeletons in your closet have begun to stir
You remember the dust
On the streets of a township
And the hatred in their eyes
At the end of your rifle
‘Cause you know, you know
The skeletons in your closet have begun to stir
You remember the fires
And the wheels of a Casspir
And the smell of burning rubber
Through the filter of your gas mask
‘Cause you know, you know
The skeletons in your closet have begun to stir
So pull your hat down low over your eyes
For Sharpeville and for Boipatong
And swing from your dream
So your shoes never get muddy
From the earth beneath your feet
Here and there mixed with blood
‘Cause you know, you know
The skeletons in your closet will keep on stirring
The skeletons in your closet will stir forever