The common perception of a modern protest singer isn’t flattering. It’s probably Bono’s fault, but rock stars railing against injustice while reaping the material benefits of their stardom tend to cut pompous figures, which is a shame because they’ve got a point. Happily, Bobby Conn rages against the machine with an arsenal of humour and a glam glitter cannon. And the first step towards victory is the ability to laugh at your enemy.
Opening with a deeply sarcastic title track about the comfort of cheese-based pasta dishes when everything else is going to hell in a handcart, he goes on to sprinkle fistfuls of glam-punk pixie dust across the smoking fields of war, greed, political indifference to protesters and the horrors of online oversharing.
But far from gnashing his teeth, Conn brings us the world’s most cheerful dystopia, skipping merrily from prog to post-punk, taking quirky cues from Talking Heads’ sunny, post apocalyptic calypso (Nothing But) Flowers and Frank Zappa’s wonky view of humanity.
Macaroni will infuriate as many people as it charms, but chances are this mischievous imp couldn’t care less what you think.
