Welcome to Max and the Marginalized's page/blog, etc. We are a political band in Los Angeles. We write and record a new song every week (as of this writing we've been doing this for 32 weeks straight), always about something that week which we find worthy of our protestations. All the songs are available for download right here.

The idea is simple, really. How can bands claiming to want to make a difference write a song about, say, ending the war and then hold on to it to make a perfectly polished recording of it for their album which will come out in a year, secretly and shamefully hoping the war lasts until then so their song, marketed properly, will still be relevant?

We don't have any interest in that. We write songs about things that are happening now, record them, and release them with the hopes that they can be a small part of a big conversation that leads to real progress.

All of our songs appear on The Huffington Post with little blogs accompanying them explaining what they are about. Those can be found right here. We are also on MySpace like every other band in the universe, but are trying to move the operation to the non-Murdoch world at our Facebook Page.

Lineup: Max Bernstein - guitar + vocals. Dave Watrous - Bass. Jon Ryggy - Drums. Our friend Max Waker is a recording engineer and makes cartoons.

Saturday, February 16, 2008

Museum of Mistakes

I will expand on this blog tomorrow most likely but I want to write something since the song is up. This is a song about how as more evidence gets out about how many prisoners at Guantanamo were just turned in by tribal mercenaries capitalizing on the U.S. tax dollars being thrown at them to turn in people we could say were the "worst of the worst", the pressure to close Guantanamo will mount and it will one day become a museum where we all stare and whisper about how we did such a thing.

Also, just want to say that this is my favorite Max and the Marginalized song yet and features great performances by Jon and Dave. Give it up for them =)


Museum of Mistakes

Somewhere down the line when the fevers quiet down
When I'm twice as old, as old as I am now
We'll step out off the dock and sail the guilty seas
A hundred miles south of the comfort of the keys
Plexiglass displays of the dead, reenactments of the scene
Of hoods devoid of heads and jumpsuits tangerine

And the means, as of my understand were never really up for debate
Cast aside, as we shook all our decency off for security's sake
And besides, once you get started it's a real tough habit to break
Heads will drop and voices will shake
at the Museum of Mistakes

We'll walk from cell to cell, shieded from the sun
Like the tour Alcatraz, with shame instead of fun
Perhaps a list of names will be etched into a wall
Of those who got caught up in the mercenary's call

And it's fine to play out all hands the same no matter how high the stakes
It's a grind to mount a defense in the face of these charges opaque
In a shrine filled with buckets of water and hours left standing awake
There's only so much amends you can make
In the Museum of Mistakes

There's a line between credible threats and just being in the wrong time and place
And in time these roped off exhibits will elicit our collective distaste
And remind that once you get started it's a real tough habit to break
Heads will drop and voices will shake
at the Museum of Mistakes

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