Fresh Fruit for Rotting Vegetables
Dead Kennedys
1980
I guess the moniker "Dead Kennedys" was considered pretty provocative back in the day (the 1980s). I probably would have never even thought about that if I hadn't spent a week digging into their most critically acclaimed album and trying to figure these guys out. My reaction: oh yeah, duh, I guess people would have been pissed off about this. I've spent my week attempting to determine whether this means I'm just numb to this shit anymore, or if society has changed and is more accepting of sardonic acts of satire, or if maybe I'm just subconsciously walling myself off from conservative bubbles that unbeknownst to me are still wailing against the idea of a punk band named after an assassinated president and his infamously dead relatives. Maybe all three, or maybe nothing matters at all anymore.
For what it's worth, I personally believe that the bit (joke? gambit? statement?) is a successful one. And I'm talking about beyond the name of the band (though I enjoy the explanation that guitarist East Bay Ray gives: "When JFK was assassinated, when Martin Luther King was assassinated, when RFK was assassinated, the American Dream was assassinated. Our name is actually homage to the American Dream." Walks that perfect tightrope between serious and sarcastic).
A lot of these songs are, on their surface, presenting heinous messages. "I Kill Children" is a good example. Sung from the first-person perspective of a serial killer, it features such lines such as "So, I kill children, I love to see them die / I kill children and make their mamas cry." Which is so painfully obvious not actually what frontman Jello Biafra actually believes. It's meant to provoke. It forces "The Man" and his bootlickers to vocalize a belief that they believe children should not be killed. At that point, Dead Kennedys can flip the script—okay, so you don't want children killed, then why don't you support social welfare programs that benefit children? Why do you worship Henry Kissinger, given what we know about his legacy of warfare in third-world countries? Why do you shrug off the use of nuclear weaponry? It proves that the "uproar" about a punk band with a provocative name is all just talk, and that some people would rather grumble about punk music than about the reality that certain aspects of social and global policy kill children.
A lot of these songs are, on their surface, presenting heinous messages. "I Kill Children" is a good example. Sung from the first-person perspective of a serial killer, it features such lines such as "So, I kill children, I love to see them die / I kill children and make their mamas cry." Which is so painfully obvious not actually what frontman Jello Biafra actually believes. It's meant to provoke. It forces "The Man" and his bootlickers to vocalize a belief that they believe children should not be killed. At that point, Dead Kennedys can flip the script—okay, so you don't want children killed, then why don't you support social welfare programs that benefit children? Why do you worship Henry Kissinger, given what we know about his legacy of warfare in third-world countries? Why do you shrug off the use of nuclear weaponry? It proves that the "uproar" about a punk band with a provocative name is all just talk, and that some people would rather grumble about punk music than about the reality that certain aspects of social and global policy kill children.
The thing about this band—the thing that makes a blog writer attach a "YMMV" tag to such proceedings—is that they are very on-the-nose about it. Their intentions are overly clear, to an almost gruesome degree. "Ever wanted to die? / Of course you have" is the line I keep coming back to. It works on like five different levels, but none of those levels are hidden. No one is misinterpreting the purpose of "Let's Lynch the Landlord." Your Mileage May Vary depending on how close ideologically you are to these messages. I think being a landlord is an unethical and immoral act, and I'm also cognizant enough to realize that these guys are not literally telling you to murder anyone. So this works for me. Great album. I'm just saying that someone like, I don't know, my mom, who ostensibly is against the mutilation of children via chemical warfare, is probably going to get queasy when presented with that particular message in this particular fashion. (It probably comes down to how willing you are to examine yourself and your beliefs, to really put in the hard work... but we don't have to get into that here.)
That goes back to the idea of me "being numb" to this music. Even though that's partially true, I usually like to frame in a more positive light—I'm more accustomed to harsh punk music like this, and these days I find myself embracing it. Not just hardcore punk of the '80s, but all genres of music. Very little of it feels astringent or cacophonous to me anymore. This comes from repeat exposure. We have reached the end of our third Year of Blind Spots, and at this point, everything feels natural and comfortable to me.
I'm not saying that I am knowledgeable, necessarily. Just more in tune with my emotions, and more easily able to name them when confronted with music I did not know previously. Prior to this week, Dead Kennedys were a figment of an idea to me. Now, they fit in the context of the great music canon. I understand what they mean, and why. I understand what they sound like, and who they influenced. I understand why they remind me of a dive bar in Las Vegas, and what that means to my own personal history, and my journey, and honestly, my shortcomings.
It especially feels good in this specific context because Dead Kennedys seem to understand their own context better than anyone. I sincerely love the "cover" of Elvis Presley's "Viva Las Vegas," and how it turns that putrid shit on its head, and turns Elvis' Vegas into a hellhole. As someone with a noted history of hating Elvis, I enjoy the glee in which Dead Kennedys piss on the man's grave. There are many things I'll take away from my experience with this band, but this is one of the biggest ones.
I guess my concern at this point is: are there any classic albums left that I'm going to hate? Or am I at the point where I can at least understand any classic album enough that I will be able to appreciate it on some level? I appreciate optimism, and I hold it close, but there are some days when I miss being able to just shit on an album just to do it. I guess that wouldn't make sense in this particular context though—the albums I listen to for this blog column have been thoroughly vetted over the decades, and there is very little room for serious criticism. Which is totally okay. I'm not "reviewing" albums in in this column anyway. It's more like I'm just exploring them, learning about them, appreciating them, and adding them to my overall understanding of music.
That goes back to the idea of me "being numb" to this music. Even though that's partially true, I usually like to frame in a more positive light—I'm more accustomed to harsh punk music like this, and these days I find myself embracing it. Not just hardcore punk of the '80s, but all genres of music. Very little of it feels astringent or cacophonous to me anymore. This comes from repeat exposure. We have reached the end of our third Year of Blind Spots, and at this point, everything feels natural and comfortable to me.
I'm not saying that I am knowledgeable, necessarily. Just more in tune with my emotions, and more easily able to name them when confronted with music I did not know previously. Prior to this week, Dead Kennedys were a figment of an idea to me. Now, they fit in the context of the great music canon. I understand what they mean, and why. I understand what they sound like, and who they influenced. I understand why they remind me of a dive bar in Las Vegas, and what that means to my own personal history, and my journey, and honestly, my shortcomings.
It especially feels good in this specific context because Dead Kennedys seem to understand their own context better than anyone. I sincerely love the "cover" of Elvis Presley's "Viva Las Vegas," and how it turns that putrid shit on its head, and turns Elvis' Vegas into a hellhole. As someone with a noted history of hating Elvis, I enjoy the glee in which Dead Kennedys piss on the man's grave. There are many things I'll take away from my experience with this band, but this is one of the biggest ones.
I guess my concern at this point is: are there any classic albums left that I'm going to hate? Or am I at the point where I can at least understand any classic album enough that I will be able to appreciate it on some level? I appreciate optimism, and I hold it close, but there are some days when I miss being able to just shit on an album just to do it. I guess that wouldn't make sense in this particular context though—the albums I listen to for this blog column have been thoroughly vetted over the decades, and there is very little room for serious criticism. Which is totally okay. I'm not "reviewing" albums in in this column anyway. It's more like I'm just exploring them, learning about them, appreciating them, and adding them to my overall understanding of music.
I really like Fresh Fruit for Rotting Vegetables though. I don't mean to sand down its edges by saying "yeah I liked this one as much as I liked 49 other albums this year!!" That's true, but each of these albums are special in their own way. I appreciate Dead Kennedys for this catchy punk music that espouses messages that are both vicious and true. Music... man, that's where the truth is.
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