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Rating: (Did you miss me? I don't think so... Well, at least I'm happy to return to writing "reviews," after all, if someone doesn't update the bullshit on debaser, who will? The answer is that I have taken on the task of renewing the bullshit on debaser, even if there won't be a need, a laugh and a nice 1 to the review, it's not that bad, bring on the 1s!!!).
In a distant decade, the 80s to be precise; there was a planet, healthy, good, and also VERY DEMOCRATIC. Where parents did not buy records for their children, where kids luckily didn't have the "trendy-pseudo-bad" T-shirt of Slipknot/Slayer, where males were robust actors with blue eyes, where teenagers drank coke and groped girls' butts. Up to here, all was well, only that elsewhere, there was the working class and the true angry rebels. And what happened then? What happened was that rich people kept having gold while poor people continued being poor without being helped.
A human being from Earth named Jello Biafra, one day after watching a movement born in England (punk...) on TV, decides to follow the same path (not exactly all of it, as we will see later he didn't have much sympathy for dear Sid Vicious). He gathers some of his friends, who he surely met on the street, because: "the friend of the friend, of the guitarist of our band, would like...", etc., etc. So after effort upon effort, he decides to record this bastard of an album.
"Fresh Fruits for Rotten Vegetables," says it all! This album is a bucket of clean, fresh, healthy water in a sea of shit. And from this intention, our dear Americans against America record some tracks. Without a doubt, "Kill the Poor" stands out, which attacks American welfare society (de 'sta cippa!!!), against every kind of dictatorship (even the communist ones, they were indeed reds but liberators!) and above all against the irresponsibility of the American government, this time, however, it is not a Bush being beaten up, but rather an Al Gore, a bit incapable of managing a too-negligent population. This time it is not all (the Americans) who screwed the Dead Kennedys (the bad guys), but the Dead Kennedys (the bad guys) who screwed everyone (the Americans). They were generous because they realized something was going a bit wrong, and so instead of running for office, what do they do, they record an album to protest, because if you're in America and decide to become something in politics, then you become a democrat (true-bad) and a moderate (true-bad 2), and as Pierre-Joseph Proudhon taught us, freedom is something that must be taken even with strong measures.
"Holiday in Cambodia" is simply something amazing, that riff so intricate and ironic, but also very dark if you read the lyrics carefully, the voice of Jello Biafra is the talking cricket that comes close to your ear and annoys the hell out of you. Let's say it annoys you, but it also brings a tear to your eye, and how it does! "Holiday in Cambodia" is: You messed up here, here, there, there, there!!!. Here's what the truth is, clearly stated, not so fast, with a mock-authoritative and quite mocking voice.
The Dead Kennedys might have been a bit boosted by the T-shirts reading "Nazi Punks Fuck Off", with the swastika crossed out, etc., etc., but they remain a band that has truly given a lot, certainly to punk music (even if later the first glimpses of Hardcore will be seen), and especially to people who want to hear something real (and this time not from Banda Bassotti or Los Fastidios). To tell the truth, Jello Biafra's voice hasn't worn us out yet, taking you by the shirt, pinning you to the wall, and ripping your guts out! Maybe it hasn't worn us out yet, let's hope the Dead Kennedys start making music again and writing some lyrics to preach to someone we all know well, because there is STILL A LOT of work to be done here...
Tracklist Lyrics and Videos
01 Kill the Poor (03:05)
Efficiency and progress is ours once more,
now that we have the Neutron bomb
It's nice and quick and clean and gets things done.
Away with excess enemy.
But no less value to property.
No sense in war but perfect sense at home--
The sun beams down on a brand new day
No more welfare tax t' pay
Unsightly slums gone up in flashing light.
Jobless millions whisked away.
At last we have more room to play.
All systems go to kill the poor tonight.
Gonna
Kill kill kill kill kill the poor. kill kill kill Kill kill the poor kill kill kill Kill kill the poor…Tonight
[*chorus]
Behold the sparkle of champagne
The crime rate's gone
Feel free again
O' life's a dream with you, Miss Lily White.
Jane Fonda on the screen today
Convinced the liberals it's okay
So let's get dressed and dance away the night
While they…
Kill kill kill kill the poor 3x
Tonight... tonight!
[*chorus]
02 Forward to Death (01:24)
I don't need your way of life
I can't stand your attitudes
I can do without your strife
I don't need this fucking world
I don't need this fucking world
This world brings me down
Gag with every breath
This world brings me down
I'm looking forward to death
It seems so unreal to me
So much hate and so mouch pity
I can't take another day
It's such a bore
It gets me really sore
I don't need this fucking world
I don't need this fucking world
This world brings me down
Gag with every breath
This world brings me down
I'm looking forward to death
Looking forward to death
03 When Ya Get Drafted (01:24)
Are you believing the morning papers?
War is coming back in style
There's generals here, advisors there
And Russians nibbling everywhere
The chessboard's filling up with red
We make more profits when we blow off their heads
Economy is looking bad
Let's start another war (when ya get drafted)
Fan the fires of racist hatred
We want total war (when ya get drafted)
Drooling fingers, panic buttons
Playing with missiles like they're toys
There's easy money, easy jobs
Especially when you build the bombs
That blow big cities off the map
Just guess who profits when we build 'em back up?
Yeah, what Big Business wants Big Business gets
It wants a war (when ya get drafted)
Call the army, call the Navy
Stocked with kids from slums (when ya get drafted)
If you can't afford a slick attorney
We might make you a spy
Forget your demonstrations
Kids today sit on their ass (when ya get drafted)
Just a six-pack and you're happy
We're prepared for when ya get drafted
04 Let's Lynch the Landlord (02:12)
The Landlord's here to visit
They're blasting disco down below
Sez, "I'm doubling up the rent
Cos the building's condemned
You're gonna help me buy City Hall"
But we can, you know we can
But we can, you know we can
Let's lynch the landlord man
I tell them 'turn on the water'
I tell 'em 'turn on the heat'
Tells me 'All you ever do is complain'
Then they search the place when I'm not here
But we can, you know we can
Let's lynch the landlord
Let's lynch the landlord
Let's lynch the landlord man
There's rats chewin' up the kitchen
Roaches up to my knees
Turn the oven on, it smells like Dachau, yeah
Til the rain pours thru the ceiling
But we can, you know we can
Let's lynch the landlord man
05 Drug Me (01:56)
I don't want to think
Don't make me care
I wanna melt in with the group
I need the balls
To leap out of my shell
And let go with my friends
Can't come up with anything
I want to do
I need a project I can finish
My brain needs some stimulation
Drug me
I'm so fucking tired
I gotta stay awake
I'm runnin' late
I gotta make it through the day
And make my time go by
TV and the stereo and girls are lots of fun
I want the max
I relate better loaded
Gotta see that movie stoned
Drug me
Drug me with natural vitamin C
Drug me with pharmaceutical speed
Drug me with your sleeping pills
Drug me with your crossword puzzles
Drug me with your magazines
Drug me with your fuck machines
With a fountain of fads
More rock and roll ads
Drug me
Finally off of work
Unwind and watch the ball game at the bar
Another potato chip weekend
Is here at last
Go away
Leave me alone
So I can't see myself
06 Your Emotions (01:21)
Your mommy told you this
And your daddy told you that
Always think like this
And never do that
You learned so many feelings
But what is there to that
Which are really yours
Or are you just a copycat
You're so boring boring boring
Always tape machine recording
You're so boring boring boring
I've heard all this before
Planless and mindless
Scraps from anywhere
Bunch of used parts
From garbage pails everywhere
Frankenstein became a monster
Just like you
Your scars only show
When someone talks to you
Your emotions make you a monster
07 Chemical Warfare (02:56)
Down at the arsenal they keep the nerve gases
Guarded day and night by caged white rabbits
Been sitting there for years, now I'm gonna have at it
I cut through the fence, run right in, and grab it
Go crazy
Now I got my own mustard gas in my pocket
Climb on a tree on a branch and unwrap it
On a country club full of Saturday golfers
So I can watch them die
Chokin', shakin' in convulsions
Go crazy
Chemical warfare
Chemical warfare
Chemical warfare warfare warfare
Panic in the air, see the headless chickens runnin'
Golf carts head on crashin', crackin' heads wide open
Scratch the grass, mister, you can't breathe
And roll and writhe in a sandtrap, starting to heave
Claw those clubs, lemme see you seethe
Go crazy
Yellow air
Yellow clouds
Blowin' down down down the fairway
Sensitive to the touch
Mowin' down down the putting green
Heading straight for the big clubhouse
Where the stuffed country club ladies, so carefree
Relax, pose by the pool
Limber limp with a dry martini
Until...
Chemical warfare
Chemical warfare
08 California Über Alles (03:02)
I am Governor Jerry Brown
My aura smiles
And never frowns
Soon I will be president...
Carter Power will soon go away
I will be Fuhrer one day
I will command all of you
Your kids will meditate in school
Your kids will meditate in school!
[Chorus:]
California Über Alles
California Über Alles
Über Alles California
Über Alles California
Zen fascists will control you
100% natural
You will jog for the master race
And always wear the happy face
Close your eyes, can't happen here
Big Bro' on white horse is near
The hippies won't come back you say
Mellow out or you will pay
Mellow out or you will pay!
[Chorus]
Now it is 1984
Knock-knock at your front door
It's the suede/denim secret police
They have come for your uncool niece
Come quietly to the camp
You'd look nice as a drawstring lamp
Don't you worry, it's only a shower
For your clothes here's a pretty flower.
DIE on organic poison gas
Serpent's egg's already hatched
You will croak, you little clown
When you mess with President Brown
When you mess with President Brown
[Chorus]
10 Stealing People's Mail (01:35)
We ain't going to the party
We ain't going to the game
We ain't going to the disco
Ain't gonna cruise down Main
We're stealing people's mail
Stealing people's mail
Stealing people's mail
On a Friday night
Drivin' in the mountains
Winding 'round and 'round
Rummage through your mailboxes
Take your mail back to town
And we got license plates, wedding gifts, tax returns
Checks to politicians from real estate firms
Money, bills and cancelled checks
Pretty funny pictures of your kids
We're stealing people's mail
On a Friday night
We're stealing people's mail
By the pale moonlight
We got grocery sackful after grocery sackful
Grocery sackful after grocery sackful
Grocery sackful after grocery sackful
Of the private lives of you
People say we're crazy
We're sick and all alone
But when we read your letters
We're rolling on the floor
We got more license plates, wedding gifts, tax returns
Checks to politicians from real estate firms
Money, bills and cancelled checks
We cut relationships with your friends
We're gonna steal your mail
By the pale moonlight
We better not get caught
We'll be drugged and shocked
'Till we come out born-again Christians
11 Funland at the Beach (01:49)
Sunny Sunday at the amusement park
See the fat kids spill their pop
Oh babe—lots of flags and balloons
But someone sabotaged the rollercoaster last night
Ran a turn and then it smashed right down
Thru the crowded haunted house below
Oh No
Human hamburger No
And it's Crushed little Kids
Crushed little Kids
Crushed little Kids
Adorn the boardwalk
See the tourists drop their jaws and cones
See the owners smell a big lawsuit
Oh Police! (call your lawyer first)
Make the witnesses go home
And they'll turn on the TV
And see the crushed little kids
Adorn the boardwalk….
12 Ill in the Head (02:45)
In a desperate mind
Little gardens grow
They grow very wide
They grow very tall
Why am I alive
Urban Wonderland
By the fence I stand
In and out of hand
There are many paths
Dripping dark so dense
Do not enter here
Enter over there
People closing in
Barking at my mind
Shoving me to wine
I want all alone
I want my own home
I want my own girl
Help me hate the world
Own and love my life
13 Holiday in Cambodia (04:34)
So you been to school
For a year or two
And you know you've seen it all
In daddy's car
Thinkin' you'll go far
Back east your type don't crawl
Play ethnicky jazz
To parade your snazz
On your five grand stereo
Braggin' that you know
How the niggers feel cold
And the slums got so much soul
It's time to taste what you most fear
Right Guard will not help you here
Brace yourself, my dear…
Brace yourself, my dear…
It's a holiday in Cambodia
It's tough, kid, but it's life
It's a holiday in Cambodia
Don't forget to pack a wife
You're a star-belly sneech
You suck like a leach
You want everyone to act like you
Kiss ass while you bitch
So you can get rich
But your boss gets richer off you
Well you'll work harder
With a GUN in your back
For a bowl of rice a day
Slave for soldiers
Till you starve
Then your head is skewered on a stake
Now you can go where people are one
Now you can go where they get things done
What you need, my son…
What you need, my son…
Is a holiday in Cambodia
Where people dress in black
A holiday in Cambodia
Where you'll kiss ass or crack
Pol Pot, Pol Pot, Pol Pot, Pol Pot,
Pol Pot, Pol Pot, Pol Pot, Pol Pot...
And it's a holiday in Cambodia
Where you'll do what you're told
A holiday in Cambodia
Where the slums got so much soul
Pol Pot!
14 Viva Las Vegas (02:36)
Twilight City gonna set my soul
It's gonna set my soul on fire
Got a whole lot of money that's ready to burn
So get those stakes up high
There's a thousand pretty women waiting out there
They're all waiting, the devil may care
And I'm just the devil with a lung to spare
Viva Las Vegas
How I wish that there were more
Than the 24 hours in the day
Even if I ran out of speed, boy
I wouldn't sleep a minute of the way
Oh that blackjack and poker and the roulette wheel
I'll poach your money lost on every deal
All you need is sonar and nerves of steel
Viva Las Vegas
Where the neon signs flash your name
The one-arm bandits cash in
All soap's down the drain
Viva Las Vegas
Turning day into nighttime
Turning night into daytime
If you see it once
You'll never be the same again
Gotta keep on running
Gonna have me some money
If it costs me my very last dime
If I wind up broke
Then I'll always remember that
I had a swingin' time
Oh, I'm gonna give it everything I've got
Lady Luck's with me, the dice stay hot
Got coke up my nose to dry away the snot
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