Speaking Out: A 1988-93 Protest Playlist

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It was only a matter of time before the repressive policies and indulgent practices of the Greed Decade came to a head, stoking the anger of artists who would no longer remain silent. While ‘80s protest music existed before Ronald Reagan prepared to transfer power to his right-hand man, George H.W. Bush, it primarily functioned as a footnote to the era’s capitalist excesses or remained cloistered in underground punk domains.

In the mainstream, Bruce Springsteen scaled the charts with “Born in the U.S.A.” (1984). But its messages were lost on a majority who misinterpreted the song as a jingoistic statement of American pride and ignored the lyrics between the choruses — a practice that still holds today. Don Henley criticized American ignorance and indifference on global affairs in the Top 10 hit “All She Wants to Do Is Dance” (1984), yet the work’s feel-good polish blunted the effectiveness of the words. 

Songs placing Reagan, Reaganomics, the Iran-Contra affair and conservatism in the crosshairs weren’t scarce; bands such as the Ramones, Minutemen, Dead Kennedys, Naked Raygun, Reagan Youth, Sacred Reich, D.O.A. and D.R.I. took aim with regularity. They just existed left of the dial  — confined to college radio stations, dingy clubs and indie record stores that functioned as hubs for progressive listeners, misfits, deejays and those seeking refuge from the era’s onslaught of vapid pop. 

All that changed by the late ‘80s as agit-rap and rock gained a commercial foothold and connected communities previously shut out of the mainstream culture. Protest music spiked in quality and quantity from 1988-93. Here’s an introduction to some of the period’s vital protest songs.

“Fuck tha Police” by N.W.A (1988)

Complete with a mock trial in which Dr. Dre presides as judge and finds the Los Angeles police guilty of various offenses, this sloganeering single surfaced the long-simmering tensions that triggered the Rodney King riots.

“Illegal Business” by Boogie Down Productions (1988)

A scathing, intelligent primer on police complicity and governmental policies concerning the War on Drugs, which exploded in the 1980s. Recorded decades before John Singleton’s “Snowfall,” the song could’ve functioned as the show’s theme. 

“Open Letter (To a Landlord)” by Living Colour (1988)

Foreshadowing the trend of inner-city gentrification, Living Colour stands up for the marginalized losing much more than their homes on a ferocious song that rocks as hard and talks as loud as anything released in ‘88. 

“Talkin’ Bout a Revolution” by Tracy Chapman (1988)

“Poor people gonna rise up/And take what’s theirs,” Chapman sings on behalf of the downtrodden. Her building acoustic storm tackles unemployment lines, economic disparity and workplace discrimination — problems that grew in the Reagan Era.

“Fight the Power” by Public Enemy (1989)

Created for Spike Lee’s groundbreaking “Do the Right Thing” film, PE’s defiant confrontation of institutional racism and systemic abuses still rings like a five-alarm-fire alert. Delivered with a cadence that balances academic scholarship and blue-collar directness, it remains the bellwether protest song of the last five decades.

“Rockin’ in the Free World” by Neil Young (1989)

Framed in stadium-sized architecture that makes it a wolf in sheep’s clothing — akin to Bruce Springsteen’s “Born in the U.S.A.” — this scorching anthem subtly incorporates words from politicians’ speeches while railing against American contradictions, biases and consumerism.

“Hands All Over” by Soundgarden (1989)

Bulldozer riffs, incantation-like vocals, knee-dragging bass lines and an ominous refrain —  “you’re gonna kill your mother” — bring attention to Western overreach and environmental ruin from a band that rarely shares its political views in song.

“War Ensemble” by Slayer (1990)

Screeds about exploitation  — specifically concerning war and profit  — don’t come more intense than the “Seasons on the Abyss” leadoff track. Blitzkrieg guitars, slamming drums and vivid lyrics recreate the sound, feel and vision of a limb-strewn battleground. 

“Attack of the Peacekeepers” by Jello Biafra with D.O.A. (1990)

Continuing the sardony he practiced in the ‘80s with the Dead Kennedys, Jello Biafra teams with fellow punk provocateurs D.O.A. and critiques the backwards logic associated with relying on might, threats and machismo attitudes to enforce peace.

“Black Boys on Mopeds” by Sinead O’Connor (1990)

An unsparing indictment of British racism, this gorgeous tune from “I Do Not Want What I Have Not Got” — an album that includes a picture of Colin Roach’s parents standing next to a poster of their late son — relays the tragedy of the 21-year-old moped rider without mentioning him by name. The strategy makes the story unbound to location or age.

“Funkin’ Lesson” by X Clan (1990)

Embracing Afrocentric beliefs, Brooklyn-based X Clan turns this rubber-footed jam (and, for that matter, its entire debut album, “To the East, Blackwards”) into a Black history class not taught in public schools. 

“Escape the Killing Fields” by Ice-T (1991)

Referencing the name of the Cambodian sites where more than 1 million people were killed by the Khmer Rouge and relating it to American ghettos, Ice-T documents the urgency with which people need to flee such “economic prisons” and “death rows” from a survivalist’s perspective.

“Alive on Arrival” by Ice Cube (1991)

Found on “Death Certificate,” an album on which nearly every song serves as salient commentary on societal ills, “Alive on Arrival” addresses health-care discrimination and inequities. Thirty years later, amid a pandemic in which minorities continue to die at a higher rate than whites, it feels terrifyingly on-point.

“Brenda’s Got a Baby” by 2Pac (1991)

In soulful protest against the absence of safety nets, and allegedly inspired by the story of a real-life child-mother who put her baby in a trash compactor, 2Pac explores teenage pregnancy — an issue often weaponized in welfare debates — and details how it spirals into a vicious cycle that victimizes the larger community.

“KYEO” by Fugazi (1991)

The post-hardcore detonation that closes Fugazi’s outspoken “Steady Diet of Nothing” album observes “silence is a dangerous sound” before preaching vigilance: “We must, we must, we must keep our eyes open.”

“Vote with a Bullet” by Corrosion of Conformity (1991)

What happens when the desperate are bled dry and get spurned by the leaders elected to represent them? Do the ignored forgive and forget? These thrashers suggest alternative options.

“Body Count” by Body Count (1992)

The song “Cop Killer” by Ice-T’s hardcore band sparked an outcry from government officials and eventually compelled the group to pull the song from its self-titled debut album. This title track is equally potent.

“Youth Against Facism” by Sonic Youth (1992)

Against a bleacher-banging beat and swirling feedback, a sneering Thurston Moore and Sonic Youth take down racists, fascists, warmongers, liars, womanizers, religious zealots, rednecks and more in less than four minutes.

“Killing in the Name” by Rage Against the Machine (1992)

Rage denounces wrongs ranging from the military-industrial complex to institutionalized racism with guerilla-inspired passion and potency.

“Dress” by PJ Harvey (1992)

Seizing her opportunity on a major-label platform, Harvey uses conventional tropes to expose sexism, chauvinism and double standards surrounding relationships, appearances and expectations. “Dress” helps light the fuse on a movement that would find female artists wrestling back control and questioning objectification, representation and authority. 

“Sound of Da Police” by KRS-One (1992)

Woop! Woop! Rapping over a booming arrangement that samples Sly and the Family Stone and Grand Funk Railroad music, KRS-One showcases his onomatopoeia skills in emulating a police siren on this stomping reprimand of racial profiling and police brutality.

“Bush Killa” by Paris (1992)

On one of the era’s most explicit hip-hop tracks, Paris fantasizes about executing then-President George H.W. Bush while checking off a litany of injustices that explain his eye-for-an-eye rationale.

“I Got Pulled Over” by Kid Frost (1992)

Made in the wake of the Rodney King riots, Kid Frost chronicles police harassment and racial profiling from a Mexican-American perspective. Forced to alter his behavior, the MC realizes he “best switch from a Benz to a Nova/To prevent them from pullin’ me over.”

“Television, the Drug of a Nation” by Disposable Heroes of Hiphoprisy (1992)

Drawing on ideas put forward by theorists such as Hannah Arendt and Neil Postman, Disposable Heroes of Hiphoprisy devoted an album to admonishing apathy, celebrity, careerism and more. Their focus was never sharper than on this cerebral track.

“Rebel Girl” by Bikini Kill (1993)

The revolutionary ideals of the riot-grrrl movement pulse from every note and word of this strutting declaration of feminism and gay pride. Its do-it-yourself recording quality and warts-and-all rawness amplify its subversion of boy’s-club rule and heterosexual dominance.

“I Know You” by the Coup (1993)

Espousing by-any-means-necessary methods advocated by Malcolm X, the Coup escalates agitprop hip-hop to a fervent degree on a deceptively laid back cut that skewers law enforcement and the courts.

Bob Gendron is the associate editorial director at The Coda Collection. He has been obsessing over music, albums and audio ever since he landed a job at an indie record store at age 13. A longtime contributor to the Chicago Tribune and former Director of Communications at Music Direct, he spent 11 years as the Music Editor at The Absolute Sound and performed the same role for eight years at TONEAudio. Gendron is the author of “Gentlemen” (Bloomsbury) and a coauthor of “Nirvana: The Complete Illustrated History” (Voyageur). His writing has also appeared in DownBeat, Rolling Stone, Revolver and other outlets.

Bob Gendron is the associate editorial director at The Coda Collection. He has been obsessing over music, albums and audio ever since he landed a job at an indie record store at age 13. A longtime contributor to the Chicago Tribune and former Director of Communications at Music Direct, he spent 11 years as the Music Editor at The Absolute Sound and performed the same role for eight years at TONEAudio. Gendron is the author of “Gentlemen” (Bloomsbury) and a coauthor of “Nirvana: The Complete Illustrated History” (Voyageur). His writing has also appeared in DownBeat, Rolling Stone, Revolver and other outlets.

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