Ted Leo Resurrects the Great American Protest Song on Living with the Living

Contrary to what cable news pundits want the public to believe, the protest song is as much an American tradition as the World Series and ignoring scientific reasoning. Songs like Bob Dylan's "Blowin' in the Wind" and Creedence Clearwater Revival's "Fortunate Son" served as musical representations of the uncertainty, angst and outrage of many U.S. citizens during a period of great conflict.

So why is it that now, when the great American protest song is needed more than ever, no one seems to be able to step up to the plate and articulate the nation's growing disapproval of the "you-know-what" in "you-know-where?" There's a good chance that it's because many recent attempts by the current generation of pop-stars are about as tactful as those they criticize ("Don't wanna be an American idiot/ One nation controlled by the media"). Other well-meaning attempts end up sounding hastily slapped together. After all, Neil Young's "Let's Impeach the President" is no "Ohio."

With the recent release of Living With the Living, it's time for rocker Ted Leo and his motley band of Pharmacists to (once again) try their hand at the protest song. And while none of the album's 15 songs are likely to attain an iconic status, the group's effort is quite admirable.

One of Living's greatest benefits is that its terms are defined more broadly than the recent slew of politically fueled albums. The album opens with "Fourth World War," a flurry of multi-lingual radio chatter and manic drumming by Chris "Poet" Wilson. Without any segue, Leo and bassist Dave Lerner enter the fray on "The Sons of Cain," a furiously performed song about a world consisting of the spawn of a biblical villain. The passion in Leo's voice is sustained throughout the track, culminating near the end with a series of primal "HEYs!"

"Army Bound" presents the listener with a series of paradoxical statements (In every cradle there's a grave now/ In every owner there's a slave now") before Leo's wit shines through to point out the routine and the danger presented in a life of military servitude. The jerky acoustic segments give the song a bit on an intentionally dopey feel, as if it were the soundtrack of a "Beetle Bailey" strip.

"Bomb.Repeat.Bomb" stands as Living's most overtly political effort. Leo incorporates his experience learned from years of servitude in the East Coast punk scene - heavy distortion, maniacal drumming and an easily chant-able and oft-repeated titular line - to create an experience of raw frustration. The "poetry over music" lyrical style employs the literary expertise of Leo, a Notre Dame English major, as he ironically juxtaposes imagery like "puffy clouds and beautiful rainbows" with "a perfectly spit-shined brand new pair of leather boots on the dirty, busty ground."

But Living isn't entirely fixated on the gloom and doom of military mobilization. As previously heard on songs like The Tyranny of Distance's "Timorous Me," Leo has a nostalgic side that rivals that of John Mellencamp. The strong Irish influences on "A Bottle of Buckie" are nothing new to Pharmacists' albums, and the track's jig-style bridge before retelling a confrontation with a gang of Scottish hooligans is a welcome continuation of this tradition.

Leo employs many of the usual tactics his fans have come to expect and crave, such as his unmistakable falsetto on the irresistibly catchy "Who Do You Love?" and successfully sheds the Pharmacists' regular formula on songs like the reggae-heavy "The Unwanted Things."

Unfortunately the album gets a bit bogged down by a few mediocre tracks like the alterna-rock yawners "La Costa Brava" and "Annunciation Day/Born on Christmas Day."

But despite these minor follies, Leo's title as "the thinking man's punk" is justified on the majority of the album. The next Dylan he is not, but that's not the point. Living With the Living establishes itself as one of the better anti-war albums of the last few years, proving that the tradition is not completely lost.

3.5 of 5