'In the Grip of Official Treason'
'Sieg Howdy'
What The Critics Say
Picking up where 2004's Never Breathe What You Can't See left off, Jello and the boys return with the same formulas and dynamics found on the aforementioned album, and they are still doing it better than most people half their age. Kicking things off with the Alice Cooper classic "Halo of Flies," things are still as humid and dirty as ever with the Melvins, keeping things dark and warm with a layer of Jello on top for an interesting contrast. The rants are as visceral as ever, highlighted by "Lessons in What Not to Become" and "Those Dumb Punk Kids (Will Buy Anything)," where he ponders a world featuring "Malcolm in the Middle in the Misfits/or Mary-Kate and Ashley/Gary Coleman in Black Flag/Courtney in Nirvana at last/and Emmanuel Lewis back in action singing for the Germs." While he spins these humorous fantasies, he also chastises punk band reunions in the same song and remakes "California Über Alles," updating it for the 21st century using Arnold as the protagonist in place of Jerry Brown -- an interesting contradiction in every sense. Toward the end some interesting remixes by Dälek and Al Jourgensen round things off nicely. Hopefully this isn't the last installment in this fascinating collaboration. ~ Rob Theakston, All Music Guide
'Never Breathe What You Can't See'
What The Critics Say
For Never Breathe What You Can't See, Jello Biafra has stowed his spoken word pulpit behind the enormous amplifiers of the Melvins. But his reinsertion as a frontman hasn't dulled his political haranguing or biting cynicism -- on the contrary, it seems to have invigorated him. With Buzz Osborne's guitar walking point, the Melvins deploy a hybrid of full-bore Dead Kennedys revivalism and their own brand of sludgy metal. Their fans might wish for a little more of the latter, as the white phosphorous punk/hardcore screeds outweigh the more purely Melvins moments. Still, Osborne does unleash a particularly sticky, damaged blues guitar line on "Caped Crusader," and there are pieces of the Melvins' signature sound glued cleverly to the beginnings, middles, and ends of all the material on What You Can't See. (The insane, cackling closer, "Dawn of the Locusts," will be another highlight for Melvins diehards.) And mostly it's just fun to hear the band matching Biafra's bellyful of strident vocals with wrangling, explosive riffs that could have been written in the Reagan era. "Thank you Osama/You are the savior of our economy today," Biafra spits over the rumbling bass of "McGruff the Crime Dog," taking governmental war hawks to task. "The Lighter Side of Global Terrorism" begins as a Melvins slow-burn rager before dropping into a classic Kennedys stance; this time around, Biafra imagines the world through the eyes of a fetishistic airport screener. The darkly wry "Plethysmograph" and self-explanatory "Yuppie Cadillac" are also standouts. What you see is what you get with What You Can't See; it's only the latest platform for Biafra's fiery partisan politicking. But it's also an interesting collaboration between veteran musical iconoclasts. ~ Johnny Loftus, All Music Guide
'Machine Gun in the Clown's Hand'
What The Critics Say
This three-disc spoken word album features material recorded during Jello Biafra's live performances in 2000-2002. It expands on his comments on the war on terrorism offered in The Big Ka-Boom, Pt. 1 and provides remarks on other topics including California's energy crisis, Florida's voting problems, and Joey Ramone. It's not particularly mystifying that this album lasts for over three hours, since Biafra has plenty of strong opinions and sometimes seems like he could continue talking indefinitely. The question, however, is who would want to listen to the entirety of these three discs, particularly considering the topical nature of some of his comments. In addition to die-hard fans who want to hear all of his recordings, the likely candidates include kindred spirits who want to hear someone express a mostly left-wing view of current events with both conviction and humor. Biafra is an enthusiastic speaker and he seems to have done his homework. He makes several observations about global affairs and public policy that are trenchant, if not necessarily original, and sometimes expresses opinions that don't conform to the stereotypical view of him as a punk anarchist (e.g., he is in favor of placing police officers on airplanes to ensure their safety). He also expresses some paranoid theories that conform to this stereotype, has a tendency to make snide remarks that are neither elucidating nor particularly funny, and gets overly didactic at times (particularly considering that he is probably preaching to the converted at most of his live appearances). Furthermore, he's not very good at impersonating voices, although he manages to get some mileage out of a Norwegian accent (in one of the few routines on this album that is more straightforward comedy than a political rant). But at least he has something to say and encourages people to learn more for themselves. ~ Todd Kristel, All Music Guide
'The Big Ka-Boom, Pt. 1'
What The Critics Say
In which Biafra lays out the left's thoughtful response to the current armed conflict. Clearly, the left is always at a disadvantage in times of war; doubly so when one's country has been attacked. The tendency of a nation to rally around its leaders, unquestioningly, once troops are sent to the firing line is historic, no matter the cause. (From Greek historians like Thucydides, we know it was true in the times of Pericles-and the questioning and the sniping only tends to begin in our side begins to lose, from the Syracuse debacle 2400 years ago to Vietnam.) The first thing you notice here is Biafra's more measured tones, particularly compared to his virulent opposition to the Gulf War a decade ago, one this writer shared; which is appropriate, as one detects in it a measure of respect for the thousands slaughtered in New York and Washington D.C. that clearly demands an appropriate response. What Biafra concentrates on, then, is just what response is best. Like an aural copy of the better British media outlets The Economist (right) and The Guardian (left), he fills in the blanks the should give the typical war feverists pause. He hits the points where our own past evil doings, so well-known and despised throughout the Islamic middle-east region, but somehow so barely understood here (thank you, crap U.S. media more interested in Jennifer Lopez's ass), helped lead us to this mess. I.E., how our overriding anathema to communism made us get into bed with extremist groups actually far worse in the long run (Afghanistan, which found us aligned with Mujahadeen guerrillas, the eventual Taliban warlords). Or how our insane and shamefully undemocratic coddling of brutal dictators loyal to our geopolitical and business interests, like in Cuba, is what led to their violent overthrow by much worse radicals. (Biafra is correct when he points out that our C.I.A.'s malfeasance in propping up the Shah in Iran in the 1950s is what gave us the far worse Ayatollah and that regime's hostage taking and burning of our flag). In a nutshell, this history is of great importance, as our current war in that region is clearly at risk of stirring up more abhorrent fundamentalist Islam radicalism, in the children and grandchildren of those we pursue now, and those who sympathize with them. Which could leads to even more blatantly irrational, deplorable suicide-for-Allah men, women, and children giving their brainwashed lives just to kill the non-believers who have historically meddled in their political and economic lives for the great god oil! Unlike Biafra, I'm not sure this war is a wrong one, if it is remains limited to the well-funded and now global Al Qaeda organization (not a certainly), given the reality of what happened only a puny mile from me and can happen here again at any time. But I agree that we need to change our thinking, to be more historically aware of what has happened in that region we find ourselves so suddenly entrenched in, and the consequences of just inflaming the situation so much worse we just create more terrorists. How to deal with irrational religious zealots who hate for us for vaguely rational reasons is a tricky one. More importantly, his final point is one no one can argue with: It's time we cured ourselves of the great god fossil fuel. Not only to get ourselves out of terrible alliances with the corrupt royal families of Kuwait and Saudi Arabia that our dependence on oil requires, making us the bogeyman to the Osama set and more secular thugs like Hussein, but from a purely ecological standpoint, it's just far, far overdue. The hole in that ozone and the global warming demands it. And I like his idea of a bullet-speed train system so we don't have to fly as much. Don't you? ~ Jack Rabid, All Music Guide
'Prairie Home Invasion'
What The Critics Say
Putting two legends of truly countercultural spirit together simply had to produce something of genius, and though Mojo Nixon's dropped a couple of hints since then that things weren't as cool as they could be, Invasion is nonetheless a fine fusion of Jello's deranged nerviness and Nixon's rootsy attitude. With Nixon's backing band, the Toadliquors, on hand to provide the rest of the cowpunk, honky tonk music, the two come out fighting with "Buy My Snake Oil," Jello's rip into early-'90s alternative culture, and don't let up. Pete "Wet Dawg" Gordon's piano work definitely deserves to be singled out -- check the opening break on "Where Are We Gonna Work" -- and Mike "Wild" Middleton's drumming doesn't let up once. One of the sharper things about Invasion is its sense of protest roots; almost half the songs are from earlier musicians or public domain folk songs, sometimes more picturesque, like "Convoy in the Sky," but other times slotting alongside Jello and Nixon's work perfectly. Phil Ochs' brilliant slam on fuzzy left-leaners, "Love Me, I'm a Liberal," gets a topically updated revamp, while the album's lead single revamps an old standard into "Will the Fetus Be Aborted?." As for the lead performers' own work, ultimately this is more Nixon's show than Biafra's. The latter definitely has the spirit for this effort, taking the majority of the lead vocals, but Nixon has the better voice for the proceedings, while his guitar kicks butt and takes names. The artwork for Invasion deserves special mention, too: besides a hilarious back photo of Jello and Nixon re-enacting Grant Wood's "American Gothic," the veritable explosion of news stories detailing business and government idiocies, random ad images, and snippets of Tom Tomorrow's "This Modern World" comic strip, is enough to make anyone reject mass culture in a second. ~ Ned Raggett, All Music Guide
'High Priest of Harmful Matter: Tales From the Trial'
'No More Cocoons'
What The Critics Say
The obscenity case fought over the Dead Kennedys' album Frankenchrist was a prolonged and bitter battle that Jello Biafra, the band, and the co-defendants eventually won, but the case was not without cost: Alternative Tentacles, which Biafra owned, was driven to the brink of bankruptcy by all of the legal bills involved with the case. Partly as a consequence of having to raise cash and partly as a consequence of being so involved with the backdoor workings of both the music industry and the legal system, Biafra became a much more outspoken critic of censorship and political issues, opting to do a number of spoken word engagements around the country, some of which are captured on this two-record set. Of course, there are some tales from the trial, with the entirety of side three devoted to the battle being fought with Tipper Gore and the PMRC. On the remaining sides, Biafra explores a number of other political and civil rights issues, from the controversy over urinalysis to just what it was that Reagan didn't know while he was president. The way he rails on about the government and how it's working to undermine basic civil rights, both home and abroad, may have seemed a little hysterical and perhaps even a bit paranoid at the time, but it's interesting to see just how many of the issues discussed on this album have come back to haunt us more than once, especially terrorism. Most of the time, Biafra leavens these fairly heavy-duty subjects with a good dose of humor, but the closing track, "Stars & Stripes of Corruption," gets more thoughtful as it goes on. If you're aligned with Biafra's sensibilities, it's a fairly humorous listen, even this far down the road, but it does suffer a little too much from the preaching-to-the-converted syndrome -- if you lean toward the conservative in the least, you'll probably find it infuriatingly one-sided. Which may be half the point. ~ Sean Carruthers, All Music Guide
'I Blow Minds for a Living'
What The Critics Say
Jello Biafra's third album of spoken word political invective is looser and funnier than the two that sprang up as a direct result of his mid-'80s obscenity trial. He's clearly regained the sense of absurdity and humor that made the Dead Kennedys more than your average hardcore band. In fact, much of I Blow Minds for a Living is downright hilarious; "Running for Mayor" is half standup routine and half shaggy dog story, detailing his media-baiting run for mayor of San Francisco in 1981 (he placed fourth out of ten candidates) with sly, self-deprecating wit that never quite hides the pointed political agenda at the heart of his campaign. Elsewhere, he rips into chicken hawks (pro-war politicians who conveniently dodged service in Vietnam and elsewhere), censorship, the war on drugs, and other juicy targets, backing up his barbs with thoughtful and cogent political analysis. ~ Stewart Mason, All Music Guide
'The Sky Is Falling, and I Want My Mommy'
What The Critics Say
After working with Canadian punks D.O.A. on his previous collaboration album, Jello Biafra hooked up with fellow Canucks and Alternative Tentacles signees Nomeansno for an abrasive, brilliantly skewed thrash of a record, The Sky Is Falling, and I Want My Mommy. Nomeansno, with their angular art aggression, makes for a more distinct vehicle for Jello than D.O.A., bursting with power and screwy inventiveness both. The title track alone is worth the price of admission; Jello's rant about nuclear satellites and paranoia perfectly is matched by the music, and in ways the track serves as the missing link between an older style of punk and the work of underground '90s acts like Unwound. White-hot guitar lines scrape and snarl over the stuttering rhythm while Jello rages through as only he can. "Chew" starts with minimal guitar snarls and whines floating around a low-key rhythm before fully springing to life, alternating between epic explosions and low-key tension over the song's length. Other tracks have a more straightforward, thrash feeling but still kick along very nicely, often throwing in odd solos or other touches to prevent sound-alike disease. Jello's pithy way around any number of subjects doesn't fail him here, with everything from recontextualized religion ("Jesus Was a Terrorist") to the joys of white-knuckle trips down mountain rivers ("Ride the Flume" with its lyrics "forget log rides in amusement parks, this one's 50 miles long!"). Nomeansno's Ramones-worshipping alter egos, the Hanson Brothers, sneak in for the song "Bad," which is delivered in appropriately quick time, though Jello avoids sounding like Joey Ramone. The album wraps up with two great stormers, "Sharks in the Gene Pool," which constantly shifts tempos and feels over its length, and "The Myth Is Real -- Let's Eat," with a wickedly snarling bassline that helps carry it along. Jello lets go in full effect over both, with all of the energy that fans would come to expect. ~ Ned Raggett, All Music Guide
