U.S. reconstruction may lift Iraq out of poverty and misery, but it seems that no amount of aid can save the dismally banal state of American anti-war music.
The war in Iraq was short, but considering that the buildup to war lasted more than a year, there should have been plenty of anti-war music to make it onto radio and into Wal-Mart. Even a generation of teenagers raised on gangsta rap, Girls Gone Wild videos and pay-per-view boxing matches might have jumped on the anti-war protest bandwagon had there been a quality soundtrack.
Unfortunately, the actual amount of music that addresses -- either obliquely or directly -- the subject of war in Iraq has been thin, to say the least. There isn't a blatantly anti-war song playing remotely close to Top 40 radio. On tours, musicians aren't unfurling peace songs into a sea of raised lighters. And those few songs that have tackled the topic of war have left a lot to be desired.
There are, of course, anti-war songs to be found if you really want to find them. The lounges in the gentrified and boho sections of large cities have plenty folk singers performing "love not war" songs while their audiences munch on vegan burgers. Chris Brown and Kate Fenner proclaim in "Resist War" that "Every tyrant / Is built a dollar at a time / So here's your Hitler / Standing on nickels and on dimes." Ani DiFranco, Massive Attack and Billy Bragg have songs on the compilation album Peace Not War. Very nice songs, all of them. Nice. Like a beige couch.
However, young people rarely listen to such artists, unless they're dating a Green Party member. So those few anti-war songs that have received publicity have come from mainstream artists such as former Rage Against the Machine frontman Zack de la Rocha, rap superstars the Beastie Boys and Jay-Z, and college-radio legends R.E.M.
"The poor lined up to kill in desert slums / For the oil that burn beneath the desert sun," de la Rocha bitterly rhymes in "March of Death," his collaboration with DJ Shadow. But for fans expecting flashes of the poetic genius found in de la Rocha's other work, this song is a lyrical letdown. Notorious for politics so leftist that even an anarchist might squirm, de la Rocha has written plenty of anti-war, anti-imperialistic songs. In "Bulls on Parade" (1996), Rage Against the Machine's most commercially successful hit, the verse "They rally round the family / With a pocket full of shells" brings to mind American-sponsored atrocities in Third World nations, and also -- particularly now, given the experience of 9-11 -- terrorists celebrating strikes against America. By comparison, "March of Death" seems more like a knee-jerk reaction to George W. Bush's Iraq War than a thoughtful punch to the face.
The Beastie Boys rap in "In a World Gone Mad" that Bush "and Saddam [Hussein] should kick it like back in the day / With the cocaine and Courvoisier," and that the war is Bush's "mid-life crisis." Unfortunately the wordplay then deflates with lame attempts at levity, such as, "they're [Bush administration officials] laying on the syrup thick / We ain't waffles / We ain't havin' it."
Then there is Jay-Z. Laying his words over the wildly popular beats of Punjabi MC's "Beware of the Boys -- Mundian To Bach Ke," he tiptoes around anti-war messages with guerilla stealth. It's the same old Jay-Z during most of the song, as he boasts that as "the black Brad Pitt / I mack till 6 / In the A.M." Then, maintaining the same pimped-out tone, he casually drops, "We rebellious, we back home / Screamin' 'Leave Iraq alone.'" The song has actually received massive airplay, but only thanks to the infectiousness of Punjabi MC's Bollywood-meets-hip-hop song, which seems intended to bring people to the dance floor, not protest marches.
R.E.M. entered the anti-war fray as well -- with a demo-version of "The Final Straw," which the group posted on the Internet. Known for its deft combination of beatnik-esque words set to heart-quickening rock melodies, R.E.M. should have been able to produce something that would have become a theme song for the anti-war protests. But "The Final Straw" tumbles right into saccharine territory with lines such as "Now I don't believe and I never did / That two wrongs make a right / If the world were filled with the likes of you / Then I'm putting up a fight . . . Make it right." Lead singer Michael Stipe's tremulous voice does not add conviction to that promise, nor does the listener feel a burst of anti-war inspiration after the first, second or tenth listening.
Thankfully there was at least one refreshing anti-war song, if a war song can be characterized that way. Chumbawamba's "Jacob's Ladder" is a medieval minstrel's ballad on ecstasy; trip-hop and ska beats mix seamlessly with lyrics, such as "Hell, fire and brimstone / Swapped for oil and guns." Also interspersed throughout the song is the ghostly warning, "And they sent him to the war to be slain, to be slain / And they sent him to the war to be slain."
Yet these anti-war songs are like a veggie platter compared with the steak-and-potatoes heftiness of country music's most sizzling pro-war entry, Darryl Worley's "Have You Forgotten." Worley chastises pacifists, singing, "I hear people saying we won't need this war / I say there's some things worth fighting for . . . Have you forgotten how it felt that day / To see your homeland under fire / And her people blown away?" Worley cleverly insists that the song, written after a December 2002 visit with U.S. troops in Afghanistan, is about September 11 and the war on terrorism. But he remained curiously silent as it became the war cry for those who link the attacks on New York and Washington with Saddam Hussein. But there is no doubt: This song elicits a response.
Let's face it: Anti-war songs today are sinfully lackluster. They are half-hearted, half-polished attempts at opening a thoughtful dialogue about war. True, many of Vietnam's most memorable protest songs were written after the war had escalated to hellish levels -- and after the draft lottery came to loom over the lives of young Americans. But Bob Dylan boxed the shadows of war in 1963 -- sneering in "Masters of War" -- "How much do I know / To talk out of turn / You might say that I'm young / You might say I'm unlearned / But there's one thing I know / Though I'm younger than you / Even Jesus would never / Forgive what you do."
Some people claim it is bad business to release anti-war songs, but 30 million war protesters took to the streets on Feb. 15. throughout the world. Shouldn't this help record labels to hear the potential churning of cash registers? Others claim that releasing anti-war songs can hurt an artist's image, but the popularity of Zack de la Rocha, Jay-Z and R.E.M. does not appear to have suffered from their forays into political music.
So someone send me a promising anti-war MP3 that would do the Bard proud. Until then, I'll be singing along to The Donnas' "Take It Off."
Chaweon Koo is a Prospect intern.
