For generations of great American songwriters, the music and the message have been inextricably linked. Word and deed are one in the same, and the only thing more moving than the rousing call to action is the evocative melody that transports the words like a shell casing. These are fire-breathing poets of justice who sing about ordinary people in extraordinary ways, and can turn the world inside out with three chords and the truth. These are the tenets by which STATE RADIO’s Chad Stokes Urmston, Chuck Fay, and Mike “Mad Dog” Najarian are driven, and they once again flex that strength and sense of purpose on their third album, LET IT GO. But this is no soapbox symposium.
“It’s the only way I know how to do it,” says singer/guitarist Stokes about the band’s impassioned social consciousness. “It’s the only way State Radio has done it. This has always been an organic, grassroots thing. It’s about trying to be true to what we do.”
Like Rage Against The Machine and System Of A Down before them, State Radio roll up their sleeves as they practice what they preach, whether it’s riding bikes to gigs to support Bikes Not Bombs, hosting food drives in conjunction with Rock For A Remedy, or playing shows to raise money for the Learning Center for the Deaf. How’s Your News?, a film project created by Stokes while working at a camp for adults with disabilities, where the campers are the reporters, was just a way for Stokes and company to flip the standard interview format on its head with a different viewpoint before it was picked up by Trey Parker and Matt Stone for a run on HBO and MTV.
Action is hardly a new concept for all the members of State Radio. Before the band, Mad Dog volunteered as mentor with Big Brothers Big Sisters, while Fay was and continues to be a powerful voice for Instant Runoff Voting and comprehensive election reform across the country. On tour, State Radio has joined with Amnesty International to expose the injustices and improprieties of the legal system by protesting the death penalty for Georgia’s Troy Davis. They’ve worked to minimize wildfire danger by removing invasive plants from areas in California, and have partnered with Oxfam America to organize home run derbies and 5K road races to raise money and awareness to help protect women against violence in Sudan. Most bands have touring schedules. State Radio have an Action Calendar.
During their sold out, 25-city tour this past February, the band performed service projects in every town they visited, from serving lunch at a homeless shelter in Houston to building a community garden at an inner city elementary school in Washington, D.C. Calling All Crows (callingallcrows.org), the group’s platform for social action started by Stokes and State Radio tour manager Sybil Gallagher, is committed to continuing the group’s socio-political dialogue once the music ends and the lights come up. In less than a year, State Radio and their fans have amassed over 1,800 hours of community service through projects that have local, national, and global impact.
“There are times when there’s a service project every morning at 9am—and we’d had a late night the night before—where it’s like, ‘Are we a service group that plays music, or are we a band that does service projects?’” Stokes laughs. “There’s a balance between the two things because they feed each other. I want to experience the stuff I’m writing about.”
That same mindset held true for Stokes’ previous band, the roots rock outfit Dispatch, who formed while Stokes was a student at Middlebury College in Vermont. Though the group disbanded in 2002, they’ve reunited three times, the most notable being a three-night, sold out run at Madison Square Garden in 2007 to raise funds and awareness for poverty-stricken Zimbabwe. It marked the first time in history an unsigned band had headlined the Garden, let alone sold it out.
“It was a progression,” says Stokes’ of the shift from Dispatch to State Radio, who formed in 2002. “I think had Dispatch stayed together, all these State Radio songs would have been Dispatch songs.”
State Radio’s first album, Us Against The Crown, introduced listeners to the band’s raw, pop-punk sound. Tracks like “Mr. Larkin” and “Black Cab Motorcade” had all the boundless energy of a vigorous protest, while “Right Me Up,” a personal account of a friend with a disability, showcased Stokes’ reggae harmonies.
Their second album, Year Of The Crow, was recorded in the UK and produced by Tchad Blake (Peter Gabriel, Pearl Jam, Soul Coughing). Featuring songs like “Sudan,” “Guantanamo,” and “Gang Of Thieves,” the album pushed the group’s socio-political motivations even further into the forefront. It also broadened their sonic palette with bigger guitars (“CIA”) and more diverse instrumentation (“The Story Of Benjamin Darling, Part 1”). But the bridge between both records has always been Stokes’ transcendental storytelling, which continues to mature and evolve on Let It Go.
The album kicks off with “Mansin Humanity,” a gripping song about the Armenian genocide, then slides into “Calling All Crows,” a one-drop groove that calls the band’s legion of fans to attention as Stokes beckons, “It’s gonna be a showdown, said the rebel to the revolutionary, come with me!” Elsewhere, State Radio invoke the spirit of the Clash on “Doctor Ron The Actor” and “Knights Of Bostonia,” a raise-yer-pints anthem to the band’s hometown. (After all, Stokes did meet Mad Dog while he was drumming on a bucket outside of the home of the Red Sox Fenway Park.) Another track, “Held Up By The Wires,” mixes classic Boston references and Civil War tales with nods to Jack London’s “The Road,” sailing pioneer Irving Johnson, and Stokes’ own time spent in Zimbabwe. The track has been in the band’s repertoire since the early days, but it wasn’t until now that it found it’s way onto an album, a fact Stokes attributes to the way in which Let It Go was recorded.
While touring Year Of The Crow, State Radio enlisted Tchad Blake’s assistant, Dom Monks, as their front-of-house engineer; a critical position for a band with such a large live audience. When it came time to seek out producers for Let It Go, Monks threw his hat in the ring. He also suggested that the band record the songs in the same manner as they were performed: live off the floor, with all the instruments buzzing and howling at once.
“He has a great ear and he’s worked with the best guy,” says Stokes of his producer and friend. “He knew all our songs and he did an amazing job.”
Two-thirds of the album were recorded at Q-Division in Boston, while the remaining parts were tracked at the famous Long View Farm Studio, the preferred practice space of the Rolling Stones before all their US tours, and a location that houses just as much livestock as it does vintage pre-amps. The rustic setting provided the perfect atmosphere with which to coalesce the band’s trademark live energy, while recording straight to tape with limited tracks allowed them to be more succinct with the musical message they wanted to convey.
“We’ll take the long way around, we gather on the wall on the wrong side of town. We’ll surprise them all,” sings Stokes on “Evolution.” After years of social action and political awareness—not to mention playing in front of thousands upon thousands of fans with very little support by the mainstream—the 33-year-old Stokes knows a thing or two about how to serve up lighting in a bottle. Sometimes quiet persistence is the best way. Like when he and 15 other peers spent 28 days walking a headstone 433 miles from Sherborn, Massachusetts to Arlington National Cemetery to honor unknown civilians killed in war. (Alas, they were stopped at the bridge and not allowed to enter.) But after you’ve done the backstroke in the Lincoln Memorial Reflecting Pool and shaken hands with the Prime Minister of Zimbabwe, what do you do next?
“I think the dream would be to jump freights to each city,” says Stokes of their upcoming tour to support Let It Go. “Going out to the Democratic National Convention last year, my brother and I jumped freights from Massachusetts to Denver, then from Denver to California, opening up for Rage in the middle there.”
And have someone drive the gear?
“Or just get back line everywhere we go,” Stokes smiles, “and hit the rails that night.”
State Radio’s Let It Go is out September 29, 2009.
John Brown
State Radio Lyrics
Jump to: Overall Meaning ↴
His mama sure was proud of him!
He stood straight and tall in his uniform and all.
His mama's face broke out all in a grin.
"Oh son, you look so fine, I'm glad you're a son of mine,
You make me proud to know you hold a gun.
Do what the captain says, lots of medals you will get,
As that old train pulled out, John's ma began to shout,
Tellin' ev'ryone in the neighborhood:
"That's my son that's about to go, he's a soldier now, you know."
She made well sure her neighbors understood.
She got a letter once in a while and her face broke into a smile
As she showed them to the people from next door.
And she bragged about her son with his uniform and gun,
And these things you called a good old-fashioned war.
Oh! Good old-fashioned war!
Then the letters ceased to come, for a long time they did not come.
They ceased to come for about ten months or more.
Then a letter finally came saying, "Go down and meet the train.
Your son's a-coming home from the war."
She smiled and went right down, she looked everywhere around
But she could not see her soldier son in sight.
But as all the people passed, she saw her son at last,
When she did she could hardly believe her eyes.
Oh his face was all shot up and his hand was all blown off
And he wore a metal brace around his waist.
He whispered kind of slow, in a voice she did not know,
While she couldn't even recognize his face!
Oh! Lord! Not even recognize his face.
"Oh tell me, my darling son, pray tell me what they done.
How is it you come to be this way?"
He tried his best to talk but his mouth could hardly move
And the mother had to turn her face away.
"Don't you remember, Ma, when I went off to war
You thought it was the best thing I could do?
I was on the battleground, you were home . . . acting proud.
You wasn't there standing in my shoes."
"Oh, and I thought when I was there, God, what am I doing here?
I'm a-tryin' to kill somebody or die tryin'.
But the thing that scared me most was when my enemy came close
And I saw that his face looked just like mine."
Oh! Lord! Just like mine!
"And I couldn't help but think, through the thunder rolling and stink,
That I was just a puppet in a play.
And through the roar and smoke, this string is finally broke,
And a cannon ball blew my eyes away."
As he turned away to walk, his Ma was still in shock
At seein' the metal brace that helped him stand.
But as he turned to go, he called his mother close
And he dropped his medals down into her hand.
The lyrics to State Radio's song "John Brown" depict a poignant story about a young man named John Brown who goes off to war, much to the pride of his mother. The first verse describes his mother's admiration for her son in his military uniform, and how she believes he will come home decorated with medals. However, as time passes, the letters from John become less frequent until they cease altogether. Eventually, a letter arrives announcing John's return, but when his mother goes to meet the train, she is confronted with the devastating reality of war.
When John's mother sees him, she is shocked and horrified by the extent of his injuries. His face is disfigured, and his hand is blown off. He now relies on a metal brace around his waist for support. John tries to communicate with his mother, but his speech is impaired, and she turns away in anguish. John then reminisces about his experiences in the war, how he was initially eager to fight and make his mother proud. However, he soon realizes the grim reality of combat, seeing his enemy as someone who resembles him. The profound impact of this realization is intensified when a cannonball blinds him.
In the end, John walks away, leaving his shocked mother behind, but before he does, he gives her his medals. This gesture symbolizes his disillusionment with the war and the recognition that these medals hold no value in the face of the immense human suffering and loss caused by conflict.
Lyrics © BMG Rights Management, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC
Written by: Bob Dylan
Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind