Darren McLeod
11/20/05, 05:51 PM
The opening sentence of a review is the hardest to write, especially for a great record. For Propagandhi's Potemkin City Limits, I was searching high and low to find a good introduction, yet I could not find anything that seemed worthy.
Then I went out for Chinese food, and I grabbed a fortune cookie. As coincidental as it may seem, the fortune read: "Strong and bitter words indicate a weak cause." I paused over this statement for a while, questioning its relevance to the review at hand. Sure, Propagandhi's latest album features some very bitter words, and strong ones at that - but are they backing a weak cause? Is their trouble all for nought?
The answer, simply, is no. Propagandhi have put forth a metal-influenced punk record filled with hate, anger, and politics, and while Marshall McLuhan would argue "the medium is the message," Propgandhi would be quick to reply that the message is, in fact, integral to the medium that it resides in. Potemkin City Limits, throws messages into every aspect of it. The cover art, booklet art, and CD art are by three different artists (CD art done by their bassist, The Rod), and all carry significant ideas that the band tries to get across, whether they be war or vegan related. Some of the lyrics written down are not sung at all - some of the words sung are not written in the booklet. Each of the lyrics contains some sort of personal comment, or a quote from an author or political figure. Even the CD itself, if put into a computer, contains PDF files for you to read, all trying to get as much information to the listener as possible.
The album opens with "A Speculative Fiction," a heavily metal-influenced reprimand for the common hate between the two sides of North America. It pits the two opposing forces in a cold war, with Canada fighting against such minute details as the "stupid fucking laser-pucks" that have hindered the game of hockey, fighting with the "shepard's sling and five stones in our hand."
It is in these lyrics that Propagandhi's true talent shines through. Chris Hannah - er, Glen Lambert and company - really shine through in the written messages that underline each of the songs. Whether in the aforementioned reenactment of the War of 1812 from "A Speculative Fiction," the televised-sports-event-of-the-year-bashing hardcore track "Superbowl Patriot XXXVI," or the heartbreaking epilogue for three First Nations men that were knowingly left to die in the freezing Saskatchewan winter "Bringer of Greater Things" (in which their bassist Todd takes vocals, as he does on five of the album's tracks) - these three guys know how to write the words to a song. Almost every song on the album can double up as a lesson in History or Political Science, both teaching you and possibly offending you, with all intended messages coming clear throughout Potemkin.
One highlight is definitely "America's Army (Die Jugend Marschiert)," which can be heard at this satirical website the band created, a blazing fast song that recreates the idea that was sifting through Casey Wardynski's head when he decided that a videogame ("this portal; this Trojan Horse that you living idiots paid for and actually rolled into your own living rooms") should be developed to recruit young men to join the Army. The lyrics also shine on standout track "Rock for Sustainable Capitalism" (where the booklet features a great picture of Fat Mike shaking hands with John Kerry), a sarcastic anthem that spits in the face of Rancid and other bands and labels that Propagandhi feels take advantage of the name "punk" and the DIY ethic associated with it, leaving out the political message that they feel is meant for the music and just using music for monetary gain: "We may face a scorched and lifeless earth, but they're accountable to their shareholders first."
After almost five years of waiting, the end result is Propagandhi's most mature and realized release to date, and arguably one of the best records of the year. It's fast, it's loud, and it's chaotic - it's everything you'd expect a Propagandhi record to be.
Then I went out for Chinese food, and I grabbed a fortune cookie. As coincidental as it may seem, the fortune read: "Strong and bitter words indicate a weak cause." I paused over this statement for a while, questioning its relevance to the review at hand. Sure, Propagandhi's latest album features some very bitter words, and strong ones at that - but are they backing a weak cause? Is their trouble all for nought?
The answer, simply, is no. Propagandhi have put forth a metal-influenced punk record filled with hate, anger, and politics, and while Marshall McLuhan would argue "the medium is the message," Propgandhi would be quick to reply that the message is, in fact, integral to the medium that it resides in. Potemkin City Limits, throws messages into every aspect of it. The cover art, booklet art, and CD art are by three different artists (CD art done by their bassist, The Rod), and all carry significant ideas that the band tries to get across, whether they be war or vegan related. Some of the lyrics written down are not sung at all - some of the words sung are not written in the booklet. Each of the lyrics contains some sort of personal comment, or a quote from an author or political figure. Even the CD itself, if put into a computer, contains PDF files for you to read, all trying to get as much information to the listener as possible.
The album opens with "A Speculative Fiction," a heavily metal-influenced reprimand for the common hate between the two sides of North America. It pits the two opposing forces in a cold war, with Canada fighting against such minute details as the "stupid fucking laser-pucks" that have hindered the game of hockey, fighting with the "shepard's sling and five stones in our hand."
It is in these lyrics that Propagandhi's true talent shines through. Chris Hannah - er, Glen Lambert and company - really shine through in the written messages that underline each of the songs. Whether in the aforementioned reenactment of the War of 1812 from "A Speculative Fiction," the televised-sports-event-of-the-year-bashing hardcore track "Superbowl Patriot XXXVI," or the heartbreaking epilogue for three First Nations men that were knowingly left to die in the freezing Saskatchewan winter "Bringer of Greater Things" (in which their bassist Todd takes vocals, as he does on five of the album's tracks) - these three guys know how to write the words to a song. Almost every song on the album can double up as a lesson in History or Political Science, both teaching you and possibly offending you, with all intended messages coming clear throughout Potemkin.
One highlight is definitely "America's Army (Die Jugend Marschiert)," which can be heard at this satirical website the band created, a blazing fast song that recreates the idea that was sifting through Casey Wardynski's head when he decided that a videogame ("this portal; this Trojan Horse that you living idiots paid for and actually rolled into your own living rooms") should be developed to recruit young men to join the Army. The lyrics also shine on standout track "Rock for Sustainable Capitalism" (where the booklet features a great picture of Fat Mike shaking hands with John Kerry), a sarcastic anthem that spits in the face of Rancid and other bands and labels that Propagandhi feels take advantage of the name "punk" and the DIY ethic associated with it, leaving out the political message that they feel is meant for the music and just using music for monetary gain: "We may face a scorched and lifeless earth, but they're accountable to their shareholders first."
After almost five years of waiting, the end result is Propagandhi's most mature and realized release to date, and arguably one of the best records of the year. It's fast, it's loud, and it's chaotic - it's everything you'd expect a Propagandhi record to be.