JULY 1993 …Rage Against The Machine’s naked protest
JULY 18
There had long been nudity in rock. Ray Sawyer from Dr. Hook, for example, or Hawkwind’s Stacia, or the infamous GG Allin, had proudly bared all on-stage. But few instances were as militant or unanimous as when Rage Against The Machine played touring alt-rock festival Lollapalooza this July day at Philadelphia’s JFK Stadium. Appearing on the main stage before acts including Primus,
Tool, Alice In Chains and Front 242, their music-free show featured every band member stark naked, with gaffer tape over their mouths and the letters ‘P’, ‘M’, ‘R’ and ‘C’ painted on their chests.
It was all a massive two fingers to the PMRC, or the Parents Music Resource Center, a pressure group with the ear of government who sought to defend America’s music-listening youth from corrupting lyrics of sex, violence, drugs and ungodliness.
One of the campaign’s high-profile activists was Tipper Gore, wife of then-Vice-President Al: curiously, she had played drums in a band called The Wildcats in the ’60s and would later sit in with Grateful Dead successor group
The Dead, Willie Nelson and Herbie Hancock. Yet, appalled that her daughter had heard Prince’s pervy Darling Nikki in 1985, she and some well-connected friends started plotting to get clunky ‘Parental Advisory Explicit Content’ warnings on risqué albums’ sleeves. Up against the free-thinking likes of Frank Zappa, John Denver and Twisted
Sister’s Dee Snider at Senate hearings on the matter, Gore declared herself “pro-First Amendment” but in favour of “consumer information”. The PMRC had succeeded in getting their brand on albums by Dr Dre, Madonna, Faith No More and others. Zappa, meanwhile, sampled the hearings on his 1985 piece Porn Wars: other anti-PMRC retorts were recorded by Ice-T, Todd Rundgren and the Ramones.
The very idea of censorship was intolerable provocation to a group like Rage Against The Machine. Purveyors of an incendiary hybrid of metal and rap which demanded nothing less than the overthrow of exploitative capitalism, this intensely politically-aware Los Angeles group were already sworn enemies of the American military-industrial complex. With its PMRC-baiting declaration “Fuck you, I won’t do what you tell me”, late-’92’s insurrectionary debut single Killing In The Name anthemically set out their stall, while their self-titled debut album was threatening further aggro at US Number 111.
A statement had to be made, and today they decided to turn singer Zack de la Rocha losing his voice to their advantage. Hence, for their 15-minute opening slot, they let guitars feed back and strode out to nakedly face down the world and the PMRC. Guitarist Tom Morello later told Spin that the crowd went wild for the first five minutes but then “were silent, waiting for the rock to begin, then the last five minutes they were actively hostile, very uncomfortable, and upset. And that was the whole point… to let them know you will not be able to hear the music you want to hear unless you do something about it.”
Soon, missiles including bottles and coins were being thrown, obliging band members
“I was thinking about how the wind felt…” BRAD WILK
to brazen it out with a mixture of anxiety and calm. “I was thinking about how the wind felt underneath my scrotum,” drummer Brad Wilk said of his thoughts and feelings at the moment of nudity, to Modern Drummer’s Ken Micallef in 1996. “Actually, doing that was no big deal. It didn’t freak me out. That’s how we all came into the world. It’s a liberating thing… we just wanted to make a point.”
Afterwards, the band were escorted off stage by police, but no charges were brought. Lollapalooza rolled on across the US until August 7, and in November RATM came back to Philadelphia and played a free show at the Trocadero. “Some people who had been at the show, who paid a lot for a Lollapalooza ticket, were there to principally see us,” Morello told The Columbus Edge afterwards. “I guess they did get to see us, but they didn’t get to hear us, so we thought we’d make it up to them.”
Their next two albums, Evil Empire (1996) and The Battle Of Los Angeles (1999), would both top the US charts before the evervolatile group splintered in 2000. Since, they’ve reunited for gigs on two occasions, and their next world tour is due to begin in July. In a world of free information exchange, where the PMRC’s attempts to police public morals seems quaint and anachronistic, the use of state coercion against the individual remains, however, a pressing concern. Or as Morello later told writer Steve Lowe of Killing In The Name’s “Fuck you, I won’t do what you tell me” mantra: “I think that simple slogan cuts right to the heart of all healthy rebellion.”