Words by Xavier Farrow-Francis , Charlie Doble
At a certain stage in one’s life, there comes a time where you get a jolt. A realisation of the world at large. The stark reality of the political climate and social surroundings. For us, music had a large part to play in the awakening to this, specifically music with an agenda.
Like a lot of great art, 'protest' music encompasses some of the greatest, most immediate and important music ever recorded, but is unfortunately ruined by the public's general impression of it (and fans too, frankly). The good stuff's really brilliant though. Here are some that have impacted us throughout our lives.
When I was a kid, I think the first time I really became aware of the political implications of music was via an old tape my dad had of protest songs from the Vietnam-era. A lot of the songs on it were rubbish, but it had some great stuff: the sort of music that you can't ignore, that stares you down and either makes you weep or absolutely furious. Marvin Gaye's 'What's Going On' was one such song, as powerful a single as it is on the 1971 album of the same name. Like a lot of really terrific protest songs, it's undeniably of-its-time, yet every bit as powerful to a layman (for example, an eight-year-old kid fucking about with his dad's tape deck some 40 years after the song's release); an ode to tolerance and peace at the height of political turmoil and senseless warfare. If you've not heard any of the songs mentioned in this article, this is the one to listen to, I think. A perfect bit of music.
Gaye's song is an utterly sincere and beautiful process of pain, but that's not to suggest that all politically-minded music has to be that way. John Waters' assertion that the best way to get someone to hear you out is to make them laugh is, in my mind, absolutely true, and it would seem that Jello Biafra, frontman of San Francisco punk group Dead Kennedys, thinks so too. The band played a big part in my political development as a teenager—Biafra's words mean more to me than any self-serious, warbly folk singer you can throw at me (I love Bob Dylan and Phil Ochs, but most of that stuff is crap, sorry!), and his marvellous song 'Kill the Poor' is, for me, the epitome of a great punk record. A fierce and slightly terrifying lead vocal, brilliant surf-tinged guitar, and hilarious lyrics that hit more or less every deserving target of the time—the political elite, ineffectual celebrities, well-meaning but misguided middle-class Americans—the lot. Real anger, neatly delivered.
English singer-songwriter ANOHNI (known for her intimate chamber pop musings on queerness) announced that her album HOPELESSNESS would feature relentless enviro-political themes and a dense electronic palette. A key track and the album’s opener, 'Drone Bomb Me' is a direct response to then-president Obama’s usage of drone warfare, but this song opts for a particularly poignant perspective. ANOHNI chooses to frame the song as if she’s an Afghani girl whose family has been killed by drone strike. The song is uniquely haunting, as ANOHNI frames it all as a twisted love song backed by a triumphant yet grievous instrumental. She wants to die, she believes she deserves to die, and we must sit and listen as she awaits her fate. I’ve never heard anything like 'Drone Bomb Me'. It’s a song that sounds so innocent, but resonates with the listener in such a despairing and guilt-striking way.
In a similarly sharp musical shift, M.I.A. was fresh off the success of 'Paper Planes' in the late 2000s, and while the message of the smash hit was written about her experience as a Sri Lankan refugee and is undoubtedly socially conscious, I’m sure that’s not what you remember about it. So when she released 'BORN FREE' as the lead single from her abrasive and aggressively political album MAYA barely two years after, it turned many heads. A controversial music video depicting a genocide against red-haired people and M.I.A. loudly denouncing the Sri Lankan government, she caught a lot of flack from many American media outlets who opposed the 'graphic content' of the track and its accompanying video. M.I.A. wanted the record to cause a ruckus, and that it did. It came to me at a formative point in my life where I was learning more about the world beyond my personal experiences. It severely resonated and gave me a lot of necessary food for thought about the rights of others, and the treatment of people living under a brutal regime far different from mine. For many years, the album was wickedly divisive, but in recent years has been cited as a daringly bold and influential experimental hip-hop LP.
There’s a slew of Nina Simone tracks that we could talk about here. She was well-known throughout her career for her unyieldingly mighty vocal performances and political attitude. However, my standout pick is her take on 'Strange Fruit'. Originally recorded by Billie Holiday in 1939, Nina strips the song back to lonesome and barren piano, and a vocal track. The song’s imagery is unsettling as she describes a scene of a lynching. The sight, the smell, the moroseness… Nina Simone is perhaps one of the most prolific protest artists of all time, and I think that her rendition of 'Strange Fruit' really encapsulates the power of her signature performance style, and the raw emotion she injects into each one.
Getting into jazz as a teen was a big deal for me, too—I think you can learn pretty much everything you need to know about life by listening to someone's top 20 jazz LPs. One that'll always find a place in mine is We Insist! by jazz drummer Max Roach—a savage indictment of 60s America, and one of the great works of art of the civil rights era. Roach's band is incredible, and featured vocalist Abbey Lincoln delivers some of the most incredible performances you'll hear on a jazz album of the time.
A lot of these records are not ones you would immediately think of when trying to canonise protest music. They are, though, the particular ones that have changed the way we think about the world. The track that had the most significant impact on me as a young person was probably The Specials' 1981 single 'Ghost Town'. Made at the tail-end of their initial run, it sounds every bit as fresh now as it did decades ago, detuned horns and all—it's perhaps one of the better-aged records of the Two-Tone era in a musical sense, with its dark cabaret inflections and surprisingly crisp production. But of course, it's the blend of this theatrical musical style with the band's haunting lyrics that give it its sharp political edge, painting a fierce portrait of a deserted Britain, bereft of opportunity and systematically starved of cultural and political expression; a point that resonates with listeners today when they consider the song as the band's final effort, and Margaret Thatcher's brutal defunding of the arts sector in ‘80s England (the effect of which is still felt today). A song so effective in its eeriness that it has become a Halloween staple all over the world, while remaining perhaps the ultimate protest song to come out of the UK in the late 20th century. Having your cake and eating it too!
What is amazing about protest music is that spark it creates. Despite whatever sentiment the artist is crafting, we as listeners are given the opportunity to fight for the rights of the earth, of ourselves, and of those with lesser power. This year, Armenian artist KÁRYYN released her song 'Anthem For Those Who Know'. It was immediately touching as a song dedicated to the crippling feeling of oppression, but ultimately choosing resistance and evoking the power we have in unification. That is the most important thing.