Paul K and the Weathermen
Maintain Radio Silence
By Dimitri
(SugarBuzz USA)
SugarBuzz Magazine
Detroit Born Beat Poet, Paul K., is not easily categorized. The shoe-gazing, dissonant, arty crowd seem to like him, the stoner jam-band hippies, the literary coffeehouse, and alt-country student types.
Certain people have suggested my own musical tastes lean towards "junkie glam"-whatever that is, and while Paul may not be glam in the day-glo spandex, and kabuki make-up sense (it's unlikely you'll find him in platform shoes, spitting fake blood, or trussed up in women's clothing,) a lot of his soulful and revolutionary messages are certain to hold a special appeal to fans of the MC5, Ian Hunter, Lou Reed, and Jim Carroll.
Remember that old X line, "We're Desperate-Get Used to It!"? Much of Paul K.’s prolific and versatile catalog is weary with that kind of proletariat resignation, the pained, desperate cry of the American have-nots. Black and blue-collar misery that knows the fix was in, the whole shams rigged, and there's no way out for the common-folk.
In spite of being a hyper-articulate, college educated, certifiable genius, even he struggles with the hopeless ache of watching the steady erosion of the middle class, democracy, freedom, and human rights we can no longer assert. Along with the loss of more personal things, like dignity, quality of life, family, love, and friendship in this time of unprecedented war mongering, greed, surveillance, and exploitation.
This, his latest full-length offering, "Maintain Radio Silence", artfully conveys a survivor's compassion, regrets, and cautious optimism, having endured these decades of thankless obscurity, arduous poverty, heartache, demons, the loss of loved ones, and a profound empathy for so many of his associates-trapped like rats, at the filthy bottom, of the whole pyramid scheme.
He's seen utterly remorseless greed-heads and frat-boys rise to the top of the pops, while primarily trading on bully tactics, brute-behavior, and tacky plagiarism. He knows that Halliburton merely changed their name to KBR, and Diebold now goes by the brand-name, Premiere. He knows both candidates for the Democratic Party have supported the war, Patriot Act, Blackwater, and the big business owned and operated, permanent war-machine. And still, he consistently seeks and strives to re-invent himself. As a man of some form of faith, even his bleakest songs are shot through with a window of hope, some spiritual silver-lining; he always manages to leave a little light for the listener, even in his endeavor to sing the truth.
Like his forebears, Townes Van Zandt, Joe Strummer and Patti Smith, Paul K. rallies on behalf of the oppressed and the lonely, and the broken hearted. He's one of Our Last True Voices, still willing to stand against the bully culture of winning ugly: "It's not enough to succeed, others must fail", "Think Big-Kick Ass", "You're on your own, Jack", "For Us Or Against Us", all that vulgar, divide and conquer, hogwash.
Many of his protest songs and gospel pop hymns have haunted his here indigent desperado for years, and years. "Radiant And White", "Something I Never Did Own", "Who Would've Thought", "Wilderness Of Mirrors", "The Truth Ain't On The Sign", "Yellow Pills", and "Cold Summer Nights"--just off the top of my head, have brought me much comfort, companionship, and consolation, in the wee, wee hours, like Leonard Cohen, or Bob Dylan do for some.
Whether you groove on the Tom Waits/Chuck E. Weiss/Bukowski beat, or dig hardcore country, or soulful cock-rock, s'long as you like music invested with truth and soul, I urge you to discover the many albums of Paul K. And The Weathermen. You can download a lot of his stuff for free, on-line. I've said it before: Paul K. Is A National Treasure.