Spring Break
Steve Earle " The Revolution Starts Now..."
Album Review
David Styburski
Issue date: 9/10/04 Section: The Edge
- Page 1 of 1
Grade: B+
In 2002, alternative-country maverick Steve Earle released "Jerusalem," a plea for change, compassion and peace following the Sept. 11 attacks and one of the most socially important albums ever made.
Two years later, Earle has had plenty of time to count to 10, but when he considers the state of America these days, he's still plenty pissed. "The Revolution Starts ... Now" solidifies Earle as the anti-Toby Keith. Rather than rally behind the flag and serve as a musical press agent for the George W. Bush administration, Earle is an outraged man who can't seem to fathom why millions of Americans aren't nearly as upset as him. Unlike other politically conscious artists, such as U2's Bono, Earle isn't some pretentious, snotty kid who waves a peace sign from a safe distance. He's a grizzled veteran of the American experience who has lived through the Vietnam era, dealt with addiction, and served time in prison, all the while learning lessons that get passed along to listeners in his songs.
Whereas Bruce Springsteen might have spent too much time with millionaires in the last 20 years to still pull off his working-class image, Earle can still use his Texas drawl to authoritatively sing about the small-town character in "Rich Man's War," who goes off and becomes a hero in Iraq but still has a repo man waiting for him when he returns home.
"F in the CC" proudly earns the album its "Parental Advisory" sticker, with Earle taking aim at Michael Powell, John Ashcroft and critics who denounced him for writing "John Walker's Blues," a song that tried to put a human face on American Taliban fighter John Walker Lindh.
"They piss and moan about the immigrants," Earle growls about talk radio. "But don't say nothin' about the president/A democracy don't work that way/I can say anything I wanna say."
Of course, people with opposing political views will dismiss or even condemn "The Revolution Starts ... Now," and conservatives might call on Earle to shut his mouth until he learns to support his country during a serious moment in its history. But Earle's enemies ought to realize that rock music has always been an art form because it boasts a rebellious attitude and questions authority figures. If people want flag waving, they can wait for Pat Boone to come to their town and sing "Under God" or whatever old-fart anthem he's crooning these days. If people want rock, they had better be ready to withstand some controversy.
In the mid-1990s, Earle recorded the song "Christmas in Washington" in which he pleaded, "Come back Woody Guthrie ... and help us now." Though not as beautiful as "Jerusalem," "The Revolution Starts ... Now" is perhaps proof that Earle is tired of waiting for the folk singer's resurrection. Instead, he has taken action and become pop music's most thought-provoking performer of protest songs. And to his fans' delight, he doesn't appear to be in the mood to shut up anytime soon.
In 2002, alternative-country maverick Steve Earle released "Jerusalem," a plea for change, compassion and peace following the Sept. 11 attacks and one of the most socially important albums ever made.
Two years later, Earle has had plenty of time to count to 10, but when he considers the state of America these days, he's still plenty pissed. "The Revolution Starts ... Now" solidifies Earle as the anti-Toby Keith. Rather than rally behind the flag and serve as a musical press agent for the George W. Bush administration, Earle is an outraged man who can't seem to fathom why millions of Americans aren't nearly as upset as him. Unlike other politically conscious artists, such as U2's Bono, Earle isn't some pretentious, snotty kid who waves a peace sign from a safe distance. He's a grizzled veteran of the American experience who has lived through the Vietnam era, dealt with addiction, and served time in prison, all the while learning lessons that get passed along to listeners in his songs.
Whereas Bruce Springsteen might have spent too much time with millionaires in the last 20 years to still pull off his working-class image, Earle can still use his Texas drawl to authoritatively sing about the small-town character in "Rich Man's War," who goes off and becomes a hero in Iraq but still has a repo man waiting for him when he returns home.
"F in the CC" proudly earns the album its "Parental Advisory" sticker, with Earle taking aim at Michael Powell, John Ashcroft and critics who denounced him for writing "John Walker's Blues," a song that tried to put a human face on American Taliban fighter John Walker Lindh.
"They piss and moan about the immigrants," Earle growls about talk radio. "But don't say nothin' about the president/A democracy don't work that way/I can say anything I wanna say."
Of course, people with opposing political views will dismiss or even condemn "The Revolution Starts ... Now," and conservatives might call on Earle to shut his mouth until he learns to support his country during a serious moment in its history. But Earle's enemies ought to realize that rock music has always been an art form because it boasts a rebellious attitude and questions authority figures. If people want flag waving, they can wait for Pat Boone to come to their town and sing "Under God" or whatever old-fart anthem he's crooning these days. If people want rock, they had better be ready to withstand some controversy.
In the mid-1990s, Earle recorded the song "Christmas in Washington" in which he pleaded, "Come back Woody Guthrie ... and help us now." Though not as beautiful as "Jerusalem," "The Revolution Starts ... Now" is perhaps proof that Earle is tired of waiting for the folk singer's resurrection. Instead, he has taken action and become pop music's most thought-provoking performer of protest songs. And to his fans' delight, he doesn't appear to be in the mood to shut up anytime soon.
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