Dead Pioneers’ self-titled debut album landed at the core of the US DIY punk scene last year with the force of a thunder storm. Its wider release on Hassle Records this month brings Dead Pioneers’ rallying cry to a whole new audience; a testament to resilience, and a visceral exploration of identity in a land that has forgotten its history.
Led by Gregg Deal, acclaimed artist and member of the Pyramid Lake Paiute Tribe, Dead Pioneers make punk like you have never heard. Deal’s journey from visual artist and spoken-word performer to frontman of Dead Pioneers seem almost accidental, but inevitable. Collaborating with guitarists Josh Rivera and Abe Brennan, drummer Shane Zweygardt, and bassist Lee Tesche, together Dead Pioneers pulse with energy and purpose. Recorded in just two days at the Blasting Room, Dead Pioneers’ debut is raw and authentic, capturing the essence of punk while infusing it with unique cultural perspectives. From the opening track, ‘Tired’ it’s clear this isn’t just going to be noise and empty protest, but an expression of intent that connects on a human level, at the absurdity of capitalism and a kick-back against systemic oppression of all kinds.
On first listen, there are clear comparisons to the punk greats. But unlike Rollins Band, Minutemen or Fugazi, if it feels like they’ve always been here, they have. ‘We Were Punk First’ is an anthem reclaiming the roots of punk, with Deal’s fierce vocals and the band’s tight, furious instrumentation. Like his spoken word performances, Deal uses humour to open up a dialogue before slamming down the real facts. It’s an unapologetic reminder that Indigenous people have been resisting colonisation long before punk became a genre. The chorus, a defiant declaration of historical presence and cultural survival, echoes long after the song ends.
This album is just 22 minutes, but it packs centuries of history. Even on the shorter, spoken word tracks we feel the raw honesty and trauma. Deal’s delivery on ‘Moving Day’ destroys the euphemism “Indian removal” with sarcasm and biting wit, naming it for what it was – brutally enforced migration. This is true of ‘The Punchline’ which dismantles the myth of heroic colonisers in less than a minute with unflinching clarity:
I believe when they found the body of General George A. Custer
Quilled like a porcupine with Indian arrows
He didn’t die with any honour, any dignity, nor any valour
I wouldn’t doubt when they found George A. Custer
An American General, Patriot Indian fighter
He died with a shit in his pants.
‘Perhaps the most striking track is ‘Bad Indian’, where Deal confronts stereotypes and expectations head-on. “I’m not a very good Indian. / Maybe even a bad Indian,” he declares, rejecting the romanticised and often superficial perceptions of Indigenous identity. It’s a deeply personal and poignant reflection on identity and cultural appropriation, Deal’s lyrics delivered with a bitter humour and irony, with commentary on ‘Indian names’, ‘high cheekbones’ and Johnny Depp’s portrayal of Indigenous characters. As ever, the humour slides away at the right moment, turning into a lyrical punch to the face.
Elsewhere, ‘The Art of Savagery’ and ‘Doom Indian’ navigate the same tightrope between self-effacing humour and the harsh reality of Indigenous experience. Deal’s storytelling borrows from his art performances, painting vivid pictures of everyday encounters and deep-seated societal issues. The former’s anecdote about a young girl’s fearful reaction to a “real Indian” is both poignant and telling, highlighting the pervasive stereotypes that persist.
Musically, the album is not just a relentless onslaught of punk energy. Tracks like ‘Rage’ and a cover of Circle Jerks ‘World Up My Ass’, show the band’s ability to channel anger and frustration into intense blasts of guitar and crashing cymbal. But the slower paced ‘Political Song’ leans more into an art-rock and post-hardcore atmosphere, scaffolding its assertive polemic: “The only people here are colonisers, immigrants, stolen people and Indigenous people”. The sounds are raw and unapologetic, reflecting the passion of the messages within.
The album closes with ‘No One Owns Anything and Death is Real’ a stark reminder of mortality and the fleeting nature of ownership and power. It’s a fitting end to an album that challenges listeners to sit with uncomfortable truths and recognise the ongoing impact of the seemingly innocent choices they make every day, which sustain the colonialist mentality and feed systemic injustice.
Love him or hate him, Henry Rollins summed up punk as “questioning anything and everything” . On ‘Punk Is Dead’, Crass saw it had just become another cynical exploitation of the capitalist machine. In the end it all comes down to who’s wielding the mic. “I see the existence of Dead Pioneers as an extension of my own visual and performance art work”, says Deal. “Having used spoken word in my practice, this is a new medium that is not just satisfying as an artist, but empowering to unapologetically say the quiet things out loud.”
Deal uses punk’s honesty and integrity as a precision instrument. Like an old hand he reminds us how it is supposed to be done. The result – we sit up and listen. And what Deal has to say is important.
‘Dead Pioneers’ is out now digitally, with physical release on Hassle Records on 14th August.
