By Bob McMahon
By Allison Babka
By Kelsey McClure
By Carolina de Busto
By Ben Westhoff and Sarah Purkrabek
By Steve Brennan
By Joseph Hess
By Allsion Babka
What happened? The politics of punk have reached a sorry state when the furthest left any mohawk-sporting musician will stand is beside a PunkVoter.com registration table. Once upon a time punk was revolutionary. Now it just sort curls up at your feet, crying because its heart got in the way of someone's foot. In this state of affairs, Leftover Crack's Fuck World Trade is a godsend.
You might not agree with everything the band members are saying, but at least they're saying it. In "Gringos son puercos feos," lead singer Stza howls righteously, "The third world's in your bloody hands/ You bleed 'em dry and rape their land/You loan 'em cash to kill their soils/White bureaucrats divide the spoils."
Leftover Crack's second album picks up where its first left off. The group continues to mix raw punk, soothing instrumentals and bass-heavy ska beats into its music. The diversity of styles parallels the large number of political topics the bandmates address. But they can get personal, too: On two occasions they take the time to mock Tim Armstrong, punk guru and head of Hell Cat Records, with whom they were previously signed. Now on Jello Biafra's Alternative Tentacles, they freely call Armstrong's band, Rancid, a sellout (in "Clear Channel [Fuck Off]") and lampoon Armstrong's signature vocals (in "Gang Control"). Whether we can expect to see a sardonic portrayal of Biafra on Leftover Crack's next album remains to be seen.