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Razor Wire Radio: Rage Against the Machine By Sam Costello Razor wire, freeway video cameras and "armed response" security systems were the first things I noticed when I visited Los Angeles for the first time last March. The next thing I noticed was a palpable air of tension, a tension seemingly based on class, found nowhere else that I'd ever been. It was a tension that translated to a feeling that at any time the oppressed poor might rise up against their oppressors, either in the spectacular form, the riot, or in the more personal form, the robbery or murder. It is this Los Angeles, not the spit-shined surface of Hollywood, nor the recruitment-brochure-highrises of the Ithaca College L.A. program, that serves as the context for Rage Against the Machine's third album, The Battle of Los Angeles. This album, without a doubt their best musically, starts
off sounding very much like Rage's first two efforts-- not a good sign.
While Rage's typically low-key verse sections contrasted with cacaphonous
chorus formula has brought them kudos from all over the world, and sales
into the double-digit millions, it is also beginning to sound a little
tired. They've used it since 1992's self-titled debut, and numerous
other bands have picked up the whiff of commercial success surrounding
it and run straight to the banks. Both "Testify" and the album's first
single, "Guerrilla Radio," adhere to this formula. Still good, mind
you, but not the progress one might hope the band had made in the three
years since "Evil Empire." Luckily, once these two radio-friendly ditties have
passed, things become infinitely more interesting. Both "Calm Like a
Bomb" and "Maria" sport a droning, repetitious guitar reminiscent of
the thrust of much modern hip-hop beneath vocalist Zack de la Rocha's
rhymes. "Mic Check," the album's fourth song, marks a definite break
with Rage's past. On this song, de la Rocha's vocals change for the
first time since 1992. Previously, he had delivered his lyrics in a
basically straight-forward manner, sometimes screaming, sometimes whispering,
but with a fairly even and similar cadence on all songs. "Mic Check"
finds him using a new style, however. Rather than relying on the tried
and true formula, de la Rocha here accentuates the endings of words
to add little sonic filigrees, making the song much more interesting
than it might have otherwise been. The delivery here betrays the strong
hip-hop influence found throughout "Battle." Both lyrically and musically,
rap seems to be the undergirding of "Battle" as opposed to the heavy
metal of both the debut album and 1996's "Evil Empire."
Guitarist Tom Morello is, as usual, a deceptively excellent musician. Able to wring sounds from his guitar that seem much more likely to be programmed into a sequencer or coming from turntables, Morello drives Rage's hip-hop sounds on "Battle." His use of scratching, feedback, and tapping the body of the guitar itself produces so many unorthodox sounds that more than ever, the disclaimer that "all sounds [are] made by guitar, bass, drums, and vocals" seems necessary. Perhaps even more than Morello's guitar, though, it is de la Rocha's screaming, angry lyrics which make Rage Against the Machine one of the most easily identifiable bands around. And as always, he does not disappoint here. "Battle" is a descent into the darker side of Los Angeles. In fact, the whole album can be seen as chronicling different lives and situations in the city, from those of sweatshop laborers ("Maria") to ghetto children deprived of opportunity before they've even been born ("Born as Ghosts") to the power of ideology to subvert parental teachings ("Sleep Now in the Fire"). The lyrics on "Battle," though, are different than those of either of the first two albums in that they are far more violent, and more directly advocate violence than ever before. It is no secret that Rage supports many revolutionary groups and ideas, and there aren't many revolutions that are achieved without bloodshed, but they have never before called so overtly for class warfare. "New Millennium Homes" finds de la Rocha telling us that: "Violence is in all hands Embrace it if need be." "Voice of the Voiceless," a paean to imprisoned journalist and ex-Black Panther, Mumia Abu-Jamal (see Rebel With a Cause, in this issue), asserts that the Dred Scott decision (which held that black people had no rights that whites were bound to respect) will soon be reversed: "So long as tha rope Is tight around Mumia's neck Let there be no rich white life We bound to respect." Well, that sort of language sounds awfully good on your stereo, but does Rage really believe that there really are no rich white lives we're bound to respect or is that just the kind of rhetoric that sells records? It strikes me that Rage has probably had a number of chances to take out the executives at Epic and Sony, but those rich white men still seem to be with us. This smacks of the leadership style of the Black Panthers and other violent groups in the early 70s, after they had ceased to be truly effective and progressive and the leaders simply asked others to put their necks on the line for the "cause." With lyrics like this, I wonder how long it will be before we see the Rage Against The Machine prosecution (a la Tupac) in a cop-murder trial? This language, and the insinuation in "War within a Breath" that the poor of Los Angeles may soon engage in a Palestinian-style Intifada against their oppressors, leads me to wonder whether Rage is entirely in touch with their audience. Certainly, they are listened to by scores of disaffected, angry, activist-types and leagues of disgruntled high school and college students. But perhaps the stage lights are so bright that Rage can't see out into the audience and notice just how many frat boys are at their shows and listen to their music to take part in the "macho aggression" without giving a good goddamn about the message. I've thought about this quite a bit, and I think Rage would respond, 'the more the merrier. Maybe we can bring them around to our way of thinking through the music.' At least, I hope that's what they say. It's a precarious line they walk: frat boys, major label deal, MTV exposure, but they seem to balance well. They seem to be using their stardom to the best possible ends, using MTV as a forum to talk about Mumia, the student strike in Mexico, sweatshops in the United States. (The Gap, anyone?), and more. One can only hope that they'll continue being able to walk this ever-thinner line into the future. More albums like The Battle of Los Angeles, with its new sounds and solid lyrics, will certainly keep us with them on that journey. Sam Costello is a senior Media Studies major at Ithaca College. |
