Joe Jack Talcum still sounds like the kid who wrote “Punk Rock Girl,” only now he’s old enough to rent the van himself. “We’re working on a six-song EP called Welcome to the End of the World,” he tells me, with that familiar polite Philly accent. “There’s a title song. Rodney wrote it.” Of course the Dead Milkmen, the band that once mocked Reagan-era panic, were back in the studio documenting another apocalypse.
It's already been nine years since the group’s surprise reunion—long enough for nostalgia to turn lucrative. But Joe swears the comeback wasn’t about paychecks or retro bills. “We got together just to do Fun Fun Fun Fest in Austin,” he says. “After we played, we wondered whether we should stay together or not. We all agreed we would—but only if we made new material.” In other words, they’d rather implode again than become their own tribute band.
That creative restlessness is pure Milkmen DNA: satire with a conscience, punk for people who read the paper before throwing it. “We’ve always reflected what’s going on, but in our own way,” Joe says. “You don’t have to look far for subject matter—just turn on your phone.” His chuckle carries the quiet exasperation of someone who’s been doing that since Reagan’s first term.
When he’s not trading riffs with Rodney Anonymous and Dean Clean, Joe’s a solo act—though it took him two decades to work up the nerve. “My first solo show was 2004,” he says. “I was in a band called The Low Budgets, and our singer twisted my arm to open an acoustic show. I was terrified.” The stage fright vanished about ten seconds into the set. “As soon as I sang the first line, it all went away. After that, I just kept getting asked to play. Before I knew it, I was doing at least a show a month.”
His solo sets are like a time capsule cracked open: Dead Milkmen songs, deep cuts from his ‘90s project Butterfly Joe, and demos from a four-track he’s been feeding since the 80s. Those home recordings—rescued and pressed by the Georgia indie label Happy Happy Birthday To Me—feel like postcards from a basement where punk never grew up, just got wiser.
Still, he’s loyal to the gang. “A band’s like a family or a gang,” he says. “It sparks creativity in ways you wouldn’t expect. I like writing alone, but I also like playing songs other people write. It’s a blessing to have something that’s lasted this long.”
That longevity now extends to philanthropy. The Milkmen’s new label, Giving Groove, splits profits fifty-fifty between the artists and a music-based charity of their choice. “Half the proceeds after costs go to charity,” Joe explains. “The other half goes to us.”
Of course, vinyl production is still slow enough to make him shrug about release dates. “Depends on the pressing schedule,” he said, ever the pragmatist. “But yeah, it’s coming.” The irony of naming a record Welcome to the End of the World in 2017 wasn’t lost on him. The Milkmen have always been early to Armageddon.
And maybe that’s why they’ve survived it.
Listen to the full interview above and then check out the video below.
