Raised On Whipped CreamKill RadioColumbia Records4 out of 5 Stars
“They made radio for the music, now people just make music for the radio,” declares Brandon Jordan, front man of political punk revivalists Kill Radio, on his band’s Columbia-sired debut, Raised on Whipped Cream. The only solution to this ruination: Kill the radio.
It’s stated, time and time again, that television has become an “opiate for the masses,” and sadly, the same can now be said for our radio waves. Once a medium not only for musical, but also political revolution, our modern-day airwaves radiate nothing more than mind-numbing aural anodyne.
However, all hope is not lost. Amid this sea of immaculately conceived pop phonies and mass-produced, rock-star egos, Kill Radio is making waves. Armed with a punk rock and roll swagger, a poster-boy appearance and a political agenda in tune with the likes of Chomsky or Zinn, these California natives have hurled a Molotov cocktail straight into the mindless, pop trappings of major label Punk Rock.
On their seminal outing dubbed Raised on Whipped Cream, in response to a childhood defined by American pop culture, members of Kill Radio fuse the urgency of punk progenitors The Clash with a rock and roll lust la Iggy Pop’s acclaimed Stooges or the MC5. And while minions of Punk Charlatans have beaten this formula into the dust, Kill Radio manages to breathe it new life.
“A.M.E.R.I.K.A.,” the record’s cardinal track, pulls no punches in laying out the band’s agenda and quickly fixes its crosshairs on our political system and the nations mass media for doing its dirty work. “The informed citizen became unAmerican for reading a book instead of watching television,” screams Jordan over a backdrop of insurgent, anthemic punk rock. The juxtaposition of this sardonic scrutiny, with a hook as sharp as a Ginsu knife, makes Kill Radio’s appeal obvious in a time where catchiness sells records, but politics are on the tip of every tongue.
As Jordan scowls, “I need your opinion like I need a bullet in my head,” on the reggae-tinged track, “Pull Out.” Kill Radio’s angst becomes palpable, leaving the listener wondering whether to sing along or run for cover. The victim of this track’s brutal honesty however, is America’s military, as Jordan belts out, “It’s revolutionary to want this thing called peace, as fevers and revenge spread like a state of emergency.”
Kill Radio’s ability for blending politically relevant discourse with mind-snaring sing along comes as a blessing to the average pop consumer still wallowing in the dark, but in the wrong hands can quickly become a curse. On tracks such as “Where Go We” and “Burning the Water Brown,” the overproduction of major-label standards sacrifices the track’s integrity to create a radio-friendly pabulum of one part punk and three parts pop appeal. But in the end, the forces of good outweigh the evil and Kill Radio manages to produce on-point political punk rock that prevails.
Daniel Fletcher