Since returning to the stage in 2008, Philadelphia punk satirists the Dead Milkmen have continued providing biting social commentary, writing songs that creatively and sometimes hilariously express the frustration of being stuck on a planet full of idiots. Following two full-lengths, a split 7″ with Flag of Democracy, and an EP titled Welcome to the End of the World, the Milkmen intended to release their third post-reunion album in 2020. COVID-19 put a damper on their plans, so they started a weekly YouTube series, Big Questions with the Dead Milkmen. “Depends On the Horse...” collected synth-heavy experimental songs recorded for the series, and the band additionally released a timely cover of Heaven 17’s new wave anthem “(We Don’t Need This) Fascist Groove Thang.”
Quaker City Quiet Pills, the band’s 11th studio album, opens with “Grandpa’s Not a Racist (He Just Voted for One),” a rousing folk-punk tune that sounds exactly like one would expect a Dead Milkmen song about a Trump-supporting elder relative to sound like. Continuing in this vein is “We Are (Clearly Not) the Master Race,” a first-person takedown of alt-right keyboard warriors, conceptually resembling a 21st century update of “Tiny Town,” the bigot-baiting opening song from the band’s debut. “Philadelphia Femdom” sounds like the band’s interpretation of a nightmarish scene from what handwringing conservatives fear to be the future that liberals want.
Rodney Anonymous’ refreshingly pissed-off ranting often makes for some of the best Milkmen songs, and “How Do You Even Manage to Exist,” an over-the-top screed about indecisive restaurant patrons, fits the bill. “The New York Guide to Art” skewers pretentious hipster artists, and “God Wrote Cum Junkie” pays tribute to industrial metal fetishists the Genitorturers while also shouting out to cowpunks Jason & the Scorchers. “Hen’s Teeth and Goofa Dust” is a modern-day witch’s spell set to a Dead Kennedys-like surf punk beat. Apart from the more overtly comedic material the band is best known for, the album is balanced by more enigmatic, serious songs, usually sung by Joe Jack Talcum or Dean Clean, that have been more common on Milkmen releases since the ’90s. “Astral Dad” is a spacy ode to astral projection, and “Melt Into the Night” is a cryptic goth exploration with spooky multi-tracked vocals and a driving post-punk rhythm (plus a flexitone). Like pretty much every Dead Milkmen album, some songs succeed more than others, and if you’re not already a fan, this one probably won’t do much to change your mind. The band still has plenty to say, however, and their continued existence isn’t something to be taken for granted.