prophets of rage

age Against the Machine frontman Zack de la Rocha probably wants you to stop eating pickles. He wants you not to wear Guess? clothing. He wants to free Native American activist Leonard Peltier and convicted cop killer Mumia Abu-Jamal. He calls cops "pigs" and wants the nation to quake with revolution. He hangs the flag upside down and burns it before his amphitheater legions, dropping science in stadiums and moving units at Wal-Mart. Sony Music, a subsidiary of one of the largest corporations in the world, cuts Zack's check every month. But hey, that's no reason to be cynical. Woodstock '99 was all about revolution-right?-and Rage played that one straight-faced, too.

Indeed, Rage Against the Machine's music has always been a far sight more palatable than their incendiary leftist politics. Somehow, the band's Sabbath-meets-NWA intensity has always been able to overcome their burdensome polit-schtick, thick though it is. To be fair, those of the reddest persuasion find a lot to like in Zack de la Rocha's screeds, and most accounts portray him as genuinely committed to his cause. Most, though, completely ignore the message and bang their heads to the music.

In spite of their marginally appealing message, Rage remains a powerhouse outfit whose music explodes like a hydrogen bomb. When their eponymous first album arrived back in 1992, the band's catalytic concoction of hip-hop cadences and heavy metal fervor made them a mind-blowing genre buster. Without assistance from radio and MTV, Rage amassed legions of fans, many of them part of the suburban, white and male audience that eats up Korn and Limp Bizkit's simplistic hate anthems today. Rage was the blueprint for something they probably despise, and their audience is primarily of the very population they are trying to destroy. It is this duality of purpose and appeal that has made them so intriguing and, perhaps, has kept them angry and brilliant through their money, fame and Woodstock adulation.

It's hard to imagine Rage Against the Machine being associated with texture and depth, but The Battle of Los Angeles, the band's third album, offers both. Perhaps in an attempt to evolve past the latest rap-metal crop, the record is a lot shorter on call-and-response singalongs-no "fuck you, I won't do what you tell me" can be found. In every respect, this album is denser, defter and more demanding. Riffaholics still have a lot to admire in Tom Morello's hyperkinetic guitar work, which is more angular and innovative than ever. On The Battle of Los Angeles, Morello uses the instrument for everything from a klaxon to an organ to a starship.

This album is more democratic, though-guitar isn't always at the forefront, with the rhythm section taking a stronger role. "Ashes In the Fall" lets the bass take the lead while Morello's spiraling chords screech in the background. Rage Against the Machine don't bludgeon with their sound-they cut like a buzzsaw.

The Battle of Los Angeles succeeds in combining Rage's seismic punch with expansive, more innovative songwriting. De la Rocha, though still calling for the "southern fist" to "rise through the jungle mist" and "seize the metropolis," is more imaginative in both content and delivery; on "Born of a Broken Man" he even whispers his poetry before he delivers his screed. Though their affiliation with hip-hop didn't extend much beyond de la Rocha's rapping in the past, the band seems ready to get a little funky this time around. It's hard to imagine that such a wallop-packing outfit can sound playful, but again, The Battle of Los Angeles offers a pleasant surprise.

Rage doesn't make albums very often, reportedly because the guys don't get along. Like alchemists, they always manage to turn their internal discord to gold. With only three albums this decade, every one has to count. So far, the band just keeps getting better. The Battle of Los Angeles is a fine effort whose vigor more than compensates its pretentious bluster. So don't feel guilty the next time you go to the deli-it's power chords, not pickles, that make this bomb tick.