Conor Oberst is angry again.
He’s angry with Joe Arpaio, Anonymous, the Occupy movement and countless other headline fodder that’s appeared and dissipated just as Desaparecidos did in 2002 with their debut, Read Music/Speak Spanish.
Oberst has channeled that fury and bottled it into Payola, the Omaha-based punk outfit’s somewhat surprising second record. Consisting of a number of songs that have been floating around as singles for the better part of this decade (see: “The Left is Right,” “Te Amo Camila Vallejo,” etc.), as well as a handful of new stunners, the record finds Desaparecidos firing on all cylinders, ripping a path of ridicule on those whose actions they heavily disagree with.
Musically, Payola is heavy where it needs to be and lean where it counts. While the record’s guitar and bass parts feel meaty — and its drums sound colossal — most of its songs hover around the three-minute mark. This means that by the time the band’s blasted out a few catchy choruses and Oberst’s yelled himself hoarse, it’s time to move onto the next one; not a single song on Payola overstays its welcome, and not a single one leaves too soon.
Lyrically, however, Payola is a tad troubling. Yes, protest music is great — it is the voice of the people. But the way in which Desaparecidos use their lyrical subjects is, at times, disconcerting. For most songs here, it seems as if the band merely namedrops persons, dates, places and events as a way to shame wrongdoers and point out ironies in injustices. Throughout the album, there’s little sympathy offered, little empathy felt and little regard given for victims.
Nevertheless, whether you’re looking at Payola as an enjoyable nostalgia trip or as a greatest hits of recent social injustices, this vocal-screaming, guitar-squealing riot record is the perfect protest-music pick-me-up for anyone with even a little angst left in them.