Dead Kennedys, 1981

"Guts, not gloss."

A 1983 press photo of the Dead Kennedys.

Happy birthday (this week, 17th June) to Jello Biafra, founder and lead singer of the Dead Kennedys. Reports are that he is making a good recovery following a stroke earlier this year.

Biafra is no longer with the band but they are still going.

At the time of this gig, the Dead Kennedy’s latest record was the EP In God We Trust, Inc. which included the famous song “Nazi Punks Fuck Off!”

In 2017, Biafra performed the song with a new title: “Nazi Trumps Fuck Off.” Still topical, sadly. As are the “Melt ICE” T-shirts you can get from the band’s merch store. (The “Too Drunk To F*ck” socks, perhaps less so.)

And we thought Ronald Reagan was bad…

On another subject, I was a bit shocked on re-reading this to see that audiences were still gobbing in 1981. Idiots.

DEAD KENNEDYS

Royal Court, Liverpool

MELODY MAKER, October 10 1981

THE audience might be smaller than expected, but their commitment is a revelation.

The Dead Kennedys’ brilliantly condensed set erupts finally into innumerable encores taking in a mocking medley of their greatest hits, and culminating with a much-requested version of “Kill The Poor” (”as long as you don’t think it’s some sort of Nazi song,” Jello Biafra warns – and indeed the satirical intent is lost without a lyric sheet). This is by far their best song – a kind of Crass meets the Undertones - and a monumental peak.

Much has to happen before this point however.

It begins with the roar of applause and the rapid fire of short sharp songs – hard to tell if they were old ones or new ones – hard to tell anything about them really. This is wonderful: assault (guitar) and battery (drums), finishing off with the indecipherable voice and grimacing body of Jello Biafra.

A ritual of gobbing and pogoing. A marvellous noise with no pretensions to style or subtlety or sophistication or fashion or anything. It’s so nice sometimes not to have to think.

Suddenly I realised the charm that heavy metal gigs must hold.

Suddenly I stopped to think. These guys, despite the audience, aren’t a punk group as we knew them. They know their instruments too well for a start, and even if their playing does lack in variety it makes up for it in effect. And the effect is not a nostalgic recreation of 1977 Britain. This lot are from a different land, and they have something to tell us about it. But if they’re not a punk group, they’re not a speeded-up heavy metal group either. They have something to say.

After the first attack – communication. Jello Biafra is witty and sincere and takes pains to give explanations between the songs (dispelling any misunderstandings from the shock-outrage titles) – just as well since his singing voice isn’t exactly the epitome of clarity.

An effective set-piece in the middle of the set is the nearest they get to subtlety. A change in pace, a change in lighting, and the stage is changed to Street, with everything that means. Instruments rumble and wail to evoke a sense of prowling menace, and Jello Biafra stalks the set, his body and words forming the narrative, apprehensive – of what? Crime or authority? And is there a difference?

The monologue moves onto wider things – international politics, no less. An imaginary Reagan/Thatcher dialogue, touching on the expected features and shared fears of the two cultures (“conscription and suppression, bombs and no guilt/stimulate the economy through war”). The audience respond with Pavlovian predictability to this expression of their own (temporarily, at least) ideology.

They respond equally to a familiar riff. “Holiday In Cambodia” sees chaos as Jello loses himself in the crowd. It’s no “Holiday In The Sun”.

The new breed of punk groups are no longer rebels without a cause. They are confronted with a cause and respond varyingly, while the others ignore, dance and dress up.

Killing Joke celebrate the End of Western Civilisation As We Know It. Crass expose it and then turn their backs. The Dead Kennedys however fight it.

Funnily enough though, they all appeal to the same audience – those who like their groups simplistic yet sincere; and barely musical. Groups with guts, not gloss.

Listen to the Dead Kennedys

Here’s the video for “Kill The Poor”.

More Dead Kennedys

Here’s another review, from a year later.

Back in the 21st century

Thanks to Steve Roberts of 16 Tambourines for this nice review of my book. 16 Tambourines are playing Rough Trade in Liverpool on 24th July. If you’re in Liverpool, do go.

My local National Union of Journalists branch asked me to do a talk about using Substack. I’ve put my notes on their blog, in case it is useful for other people.