Head over to Mondoweiss to read Colin Kalmbacher’s thoughts on what Jello’s gig in Tel Aviv would mean for the future of punk rock. Here’s a snippet of it:
In a surprisingly well-lit basement I found myself alone and in the best of company.
Of course, Jello Biafra’s words came accompanied with music that sounded like Dick Dale on dextroamphetamine. These were your, our, the Dead Kennedys. America’s foremost political punk rock band and one of the most seminal groups of all time.
It was the purest, fastest, nastiest and most abrasive music still capable of retaining melody. And it came outfitted with anthemic battle cries, calls to action and instructions on how squares ought to fuck right off. I was no intellectual. But this was music with so much intelligence, passion and daring that it seemed as if Rimbaud picked up an Armalite and joined the fifth column.