Shortly before their last Valley gig a year and a half ago, the Dead Milkmen did an interview on onetime progressive radio station KEYX that quickly deteriorated into an impromptu bitchfest. "There are three things that I hate more than anything in this world," groused lead singer Rodney Amadeus Anonymous. "War, famine and the Communards." The wiseacre continued this tirade for several more minutes, trashing bands and offering snotty observations on countless subjects.
Of course, such catty commentaries are what the Milkmen have built a career on. This is a band that's slagged everyone from earth children ("The Thing That Only Eats Hippies") to discophiles ("Instant Club Hit"). On the latter track, the group even delivered a roll call of some of its least favorite U.K. dance bands, a list that included Depeche Mode and Book of Love.
When asked to update this blacklist of Brit bands, however, bassist Lord Maniac hesitates. "I'd really rather not list my least favorite bands," protests the Lord in a recent telephone interview. "I'd rather talk about more positive things." Positive things? Is this a conversation with one of the rock world's most endearing young snots or has a member of Up With People cut in on the line?
Although this may disappoint some fans, Lord explains that the Milkmen just usually aren't as bratty in real life as their LPs and live shows might lead us to believe. Unlike bands such as the Beastie Boys, this group doesn't let its smart-alecky stage persona get out of hand. (Certain radio interviews excepted, of course.)
Another difference between the Milkmen and groups like the Beasties or the Young Fresh Fellows, adds the bassist, is that snotty wisecracks aren't the only kind of comedy the band has to offer. "Our humor actually goes in all directions," claims Lord, "from simple silliness to satirical to hard-edged humor--what you might call brash. It covers all the bases. It's just that maybe what sticks out in people's minds is the snottiness."
Bringing a sense of humor to hard-core music has been a goal of the band's from the beginning. The Milkmen (guitarist Jasper Thread and drummer Dean Clean along with Lord and Rodney) set out to change the punk ethic that made it anathema for a singer to crack a smile or act a little goofy on-stage. "We always thought humor was just a good way to make a point and a good way to entertain people," reasons Lord.
Rodney's quick wit has always been the muscle behind the band's comic assault. On the group's albums, many of the singer's yuk-filled routines have been improvised. (Case in point: the zany, stream-of-consciousness spiel on "Stuart" from the band's latest LP, Beelzebubba.) The head cutup is also well-prepared for verbal sparring on-stage, as any audience member stupid enough to sass him has found out. "Hecklers are in sorry shape if they try anything, because Rodney can take them out," boasts Lord.
Listeners got their first taste of Rodney's sophomoric yet sharp-edged humor in 1985 with the Milkmen's debut, Big Lizard in My Backyard. "Bitchin' Camaro" from that LP became a big college-radio fave as did subsequent tracks such as "Nitro Burning Funny Cars" and the Bobby Goldsboro-in-Hell number, "Watchin' Scotty Die."
It was the lampoon of "danceteria types" and Brit big-hair bands, "Instant Club Hit (You'll Dance to Anything)," however, that brought the Milkmen their first success outside of the college and progressive-radio circles. When this savage send-up was remixed and released as a twelve-inch, it managed to creep onto nearly every major dance chart in the country. It may seem ironic that the track won over inveterate clubgoers in such a big way, considering that they are the very individuals it mocks. But Lord maintains that many of those who enjoyed shaking their booty to the single simply didn't realize they were the ones being poked fun at. "They would say, `Nah, that song's not about me,'" laughs the bassist.
Trendies, hippies, frat boys--they've all been lambasted at one time or another by the Milkmen. Just what is it about these particular groups that pisses the band off so?
"They are all generally intolerant of other people's opinions," asserts Lord. "Trendies figure that they can be whoever they want to be just by buying the right things. Like, `I want to be a punk, so all I have to do is buy this leather jacket.' And hippies are, like, nonconformist conformists. If you don't have long hair or you're not completely left-of-center, then you're not a hippie. And with frat boys, they're not all bad. But when they get together, it's not a good thing."
The fraternity set takes a beating on "Brat in the Frat" from Beelzebubba. "I do not like you at the shore/I do not like you drunk on Coors," sings Rodney on this hysterical play on Dr. Seuss' Green Eggs and Ham. Other highlights from the new LP include "RC's Mom," which addresses domestic strife in the James Brown household, and "Sri Lanka," which consists mostly of twisted one-liners such as "For Christ's sake, why isn't Bob Hope dead yet?"
But Beelzebubba's best song, "Punk Rock Girl," isn't satirical or snotty so much as it is (gasp!) rather sweet. This isn't romantic balladry, granted, but it is the closest thing to a love song that the band has yet served up. The reason it's so markedly different in tone from most other Milkmen tracks probably has to do with the fact that it was penned by Lord and Jasper instead of usual head writer Rodney. This cut, which the pair wrote several years ago and scrapped many times, has wound up being the record's star single.
"Punk Rock Girl" is popping up on MTV and even scoring airplay on a couple of quasi-commercial radio stations around the country. However, other than the modest mainstream success of this track and "Instant Club Hit," college and progressive radio have been the band's most steadfast friends so far. "These are people who've always played us," praises Lord. "When we went out on our first tour we did some shows, but basically we did a tour of college radio stations. They've always been there to help us out."
The college crowd makes up a large part--but hardly all--of the band's fan club. "With our audience, we get the most wide swath of America," claims the bassist. Milkmen aficionados come in all shapes and sizes including skate-punks, rockers, Air Force servicemen and middle-aged suburbanites. One of the more notable of the band's disciples is Jim Walewander, second baseman for the Detroit Tigers, who has described the group as being almost as entertaining as a hockey fight.
As large and diverse a following as the band has, not everyone is a Milkmen devotee. Lord admits there've always been a few punks who didn't appreciate the band's efforts to inject humor into hard-core. Luckily, the bassist knows how to handle such self-serious skinheads.
"Sometimes you just gotta go, `Lighten up!'" figures Lord. "You just start joking around with them. After a while, everybody gets the idea, I think. This is just entertainment. If your life's really messed up, what've you got? You've got music to make you feel better. That's really all we're about.
