I can’t help but think that somewhere, there’s a band coming up with the most politically charged album of this generation.
The band members will consist of minorities, both racial and religious, as well as wear one of the letters from LGBT like an honorable badge bestowed from God, as they should.
They will not look anything like Green Day, Anti-Flag, or even those bands’ current children.
Their legit fear of a society run by a Trump Administration and the Alt-Right, and normalized into the current evolution of neo-nazism will drive them to plot, perform, and produce an album that sounds as if its the most important action they’ll ever take because for them it is.
Passion will drip from every chord; each lyric won’t be lines for a poem but of a personal new bible.
Each live concert will come off less as a means for a good time, and more of a sermon for the personal survival of the true disenfranchised.
Their work will move a few critics to tears.
And it’ll only sell a few thousands because three “attractive” punk white dudes will come along, dumb down their sound, lazily adopt their ideals, and have a distribution deal that places them on iTunes, Walmart and radio stations.
This doppelgangers will become mainstream stars, whose aggressive Rage Against Da Man take will feel ironic once its blasted in the realms of Red State Monster Truck Rallies, Amateur MMA Bouts and wherever else Breaking Benjamin is sold.
Someone will do what Yeezus did to Death Grips.
And the band that made a passionate soundtrack to oppression from fascism and racism will never have to worry about selling out thanks to the thieves who studied their album like cliff notes for a dense book report, and made it more record company friendly.
Part of me will grimace in my car–with the stereos playing their faux pro-revolution soundtrack–while cop number 13 million pulls me over again for looking suspicious while driving.
But hey, at least THAT still beats alternative’s current 4.5 inch hard-on for folk Americana and lazy house music.