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Do you have a hero? I
guess by hero I mean someone who does the
things you would do if you weren't too busy
indulging the dreams, distractions, and
delusions that keep you from becoming your
best self. Among the living, the person who
most nearly fits that description for me is Jello
Biafra--singer, songwriter, publisher,
provocateur. As an uncertain and skeptical
teen, I found force and meaning in the songs
of the Dead Kennedys. I would
play the same albums over and over again,
reading along with his words (all the best
records include lyrics), which held more
appeal than the music. Tonight, Biafra
competed in Iron Composer, a much
hyped spectacle where well-known musicians
compete to write a winning song, as judged by
audience applause. Any event based on a TV
show (in this case, Iron Chef) is bound to
be corny, but I couldn't pass up the
opportunity to see Jello in action. He did not
disappoint. And though I call it corny, Iron
Composer did provide food for thought
and was perhaps an inadvertently apt venue for
Jello's anticonformity
message. The event was designed along the
lines of the Nazi Nuremburg rallies:
flashing lights, exciting music, sexy
uniforms, weaponry, and rabid speakers coming
together to whip the crowd into a frenzy. The
line between fascist parody and corporate
reality was blurred by the event's taking
place in Paul Allen's EMP. The competitors
were given a variety of pop culture references
and audience interactions out of which to
build their songs, which at the end they
performed backed by an inebriated house band.
As usual, Jello cut through the malarkey and
delivered a rockin' autobiographical critique
of mass culture and passive entertainment: No,
no, no / I've never seen Star Wars / I've
never been that bored... He won hands
down and neatly skirted the ego trap by Sharpie-ing his chef's
hat into a fright mask. I left the venue
energized and played pedestrian chicken with a
stretch HumVee. I won. It veered.
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