Buzzbox
As its name implies, Propagandhi combines clever comic relief with dead-serious politics. Its 1993 full-length debut, How To Clean Everything, tempered grim resistance anthems such as “Stick the Fucking Flag up Your Goddam Ass, You Sonofabitch” and “Middle Finger Response” (both of which it burdened with titles that belie the mature, intelligent lyrics the songs contain) with light-hearted larks like “Ska Sucks” and a cover of Cheap Trick’s “I Want You to Want Me.” Those who consider profanity the last refuge of the inarticulate might have trouble sifting through the f-bombs to uncover the social commentary (one reggae track indulges a seemingly endless chant of “Fuck religion”), but listeners who aren’t opposed to R-rated diatribes will be rewarded with one of the finest-ever pairings of politics and fast, catchy punk.
Propagandhi’s 1996 follow-up, Less Talk, More Rock, offered about the same amount of topical dialogue (among its tracks are “Resisting Tyrannical Government” and “The Only Good Fascist is a Very Dead Fascist”), but the “more rock” wasn’t mere sloganeering — several songs embraced brutal, harmony-free hardcore. Second vocalist John Samson, whose earnest crooning about fey topics in the midst of the group’s radical firestorm made him seem like a Neil Diamond impersonator who stumbled into a Black Panther rally, departed to form the Weakerthans, clearing the way for Propagandhi’s transformation into a nearly hook-free borderline-metal outfit.
But while the melodies are gone, the incendiary song titles (“Fuck the Border,” “Bullshit Politicians”), uncompromising stances, nods to ’80s guitar bands (this time it’s Judas Priest) and inscrutable messages (bring “Purina Hall of Fame” to your favorite political science or philosophy professor for analysis) remain. In the five years since the group last visited the area, it’s probably abandoned some of its old stage-show tactics (playing naked lost most of its edge when Blink-182 started doing the same), but its performances remain must-see events because of the band’s self-deprecating banter and decoder-ring insights into its lyrics.
