Main Lines, Blood Feasts, and Bad Taste - Lester Bangs [57]
Artistically, on a scale of 100, I’d rate the Dead Kennedys about a 34, I guess. Jello has very little stage presence, his singing's not too interesting (forget feelingful, that's a joke in front), the guitarist has one or two more moves than the usual run. Yet they packed the place out; maybe it has something to do with the name (supposed to be outrageous, y’know…). I asked some kids standing next to me, one of whom was wearing a Ramones T-shirt, what they thought, and they all agreed they sucked. “Just another imitation Ramones,” said the kid in the T-shirt. The question is, how many of these did we ever want or need beyond keeping certain winos out of the gutter by sticking ‘em up on stages with guitars in their hands and letting them bang and yowl away to their hearts’ content. I think that the true musical originality and importance of the DKs can be deduced from the conversation among four of their fans in the lobby on the way out, wherein they absolutely could not figure out whether the band had done one of their favorite DK anthems or not.
Then there is the matter of politics. I have listened to DK songs with titles like “Kill the Poor,” “When Ya Get Drafted,” and “Chemical Warfare,” both live and on their album, Fresh Fruit for Rotting Vegetables, and my editor assures me that Jello Biafra may very well mean what he says (“Neutron bomb blah blah Big Business wants war blab blare I’m gonna turn nerve gases on country club golfers blur blear etc. etc.”), however naive and condescending he is. It makes little difference, though, since aside from the catchphrases the overriding extent to which the DK's lyrics can be said to be “political” at all is the way they consistently veer towards antisocial juvee-delinquent antics like stealing people's mail, with a marked tendency to mutate, perhaps through methamphetamine logic (cf. “Drug Me”), into hateful but impotent fantasies like “Let's Lynch the Landlord” and “I Kill Children” (closest thing to a funny line: “Offer them a helping hand/Of open telephone wires”). Finally, I don’t think anybody who consistently heaps flailing jackbooted shtarkas on their audience to (literally) beef up the show (even if it needs it, from somewhere) by getting some kinda altercation started can be said to have good politics. It's just like Jello Biafra introducing one song by sneering, “This song is about dress codes… in other words, people like you… it's called ‘Halloween.’” Hmm, lessee, you’re wearing haircut and torn T-shirt first introduced by R. Hell over five years ago, but you make sure to get the T-shirt torn off so you can then writhe your topless torso around and ultimately hurl it into the crowd just like Iggy over ten years ago …
But yes, I guess you are sincere. You do hate current American life, Jerry Brown, and Ronald Reagan. So do I. But so do Black Flag, and all the other stupid possibly proto-fascist/racist California nihilists. And somehow I didn’t get the vibe off your audience I’ve gotten off certain other punk audiences where you would actually see things like 12-year-olds wearing “STOP WAR” graffiti. Even if you mean what you’re saying about capitalism, consumerism, etc., I don’t think they’re listening. I think that, to the extent they can tell you apart at all, they come to you for the same reason they go to see Black Flag, and for that matter the Plasmatics; I think they come for the Goon Brutality. Fine. Sirhan Sirhan, call your office.
The Village Voice,