So I want to talk about a song. And I want to warn you, this one’s gonna be a little… a little fiery. A little “turn the mic up and lean in” kind of thing. Because this song, man. This song has been rattling around in my skull for days.
It’s called “Ride the Fence.” It’s by The Coup. And if you don’t know The Coup, let me give you the quick version, because the context matters here. The Coup is Boots Riley and Pam the Funkstress, out of Oakland. Boots Riley is a communist. Like, a declared communist since he was fourteen years old. Not a “I voted for Bernie once” communist. A real one. He was organizing protests as a teenager, he founded the Mau Mau Rhythm Collective to use hip-hop for political education, and he’s been making records that are explicitly, unapologetically, in-your-face Marxist since 1991.
And here’s the thing that makes The Coup different from every other “political rapper” you’ve ever heard: they’re funky. They’re not preachy. They’re not dour. They’re not standing on a soapbox wagging a finger at you. Their music is a party. Boots Riley has said he realized at some point that if he wanted people to hear what he was saying, he had to make music that people would want to dance to. And so The Coup makes these big, sweaty, block-party funk records—live bands, horns, grooves that make you move, and then they slide a revolution in through the side door while you’re busy shaking your ass.
Which brings me to “Ride the Fence.” This song is from Party Music, which came out in 2001. And if you know anything about that album, you know it’s the one that had the cover art—completed before 9/11, depicting Boots and Pam blowing up the World Trade Center with a guitar tuner and drumsticks. They had to pull it. Changed the artwork. Got a lot of attention for it. But the album itself, the music, is what matters. And “Ride the Fence” is one of the sharpest, funniest, most relentless political songs I’ve ever heard.
Let me tell you what the song is. The song is a list. It’s just Boots Riley, over this bouncing, almost joyful beat, rattling off everything he’s against and everything he’s for. And the structure of it is almost a joke, it’s like a children’s book of opposites, except the opposites are “anti-imperial” and “anti-trust” and “pro-revolt-in-the-21st-centurian.” It’s a manifesto delivered as a dance track.
And the refrain, the thing he keeps coming back to, is this: “Take a look around and be for or against / But you can’t do shit if you’re ridin’ the fence”.
That’s the whole song. That’s the whole message. That’s the whole point.
And here’s why it hits me so hard. Because I know the fence. Most people have lived on the fence. The fence is where you sit when you’re aware of what’s wrong but you don’t want to make it awkward. The fence is where you sit when you agree with the critique but you don’t want to lose your friends or your job or your comfortable position. The fence is where you sit when you’ve convinced yourself that simply not being the worst guy in the room is the same thing as being a good guy.
And Boots Riley is here to tell you: that’s not a position. That’s a non-position. And it’s not neutral. It’s not safe. It’s not virtuous. It’s just… nothing.
The song has this line that just kills me: “Guess I’m anti-the-anti-nigger-machine”. It’s a double negative that turns into a triple negative that turns into a fist. He’s not just against racism, he’s against the system that produces it, the machine that runs on it. And then there’s the 911 line: “911 marks the anti-christ / They anti-social, pointin’ M-16’s” . This was written in 2001. And it’s a line about how the people you’re supposed to call for help are the same people who show up with guns drawn, who see a Black man and see a threat, who are the threat. That line has not aged. That line is more true now than it was then.
But here’s what makes the song work. It’s not just anger. It’s not just a list of grievances. It’s a proposition. He says: “So I pose a proposition / Take a look, be in support or opposition / Then be proactive, proceed with confidence”. He’s not asking you to agree with every single thing on his list. He’s not asking you to become a card-carrying communist. He’s asking you to pick a side on something. To stop pretending that your silence is a form of thoughtfulness. To stop pretending that your neutrality is a form of safety.
And then, because Boots Riley is a genius, he wraps the whole thing up in a beat that makes you want to throw your hands up. The song is called “Ride the Fence,” but you can’t ride the fence to this song. You can’t sit still to this song. That’s the trick. The music itself is a refutation of the fence. It’s an invitation to move.
The Coup got a lot of criticism over the years for being “too political.” For being “too communist.” For not being “mainstream” enough . And Boots Riley’s response, essentially, has always been: that’s the point. He’s not trying to make music for people who want to be comfortable. He’s trying to make music for the people who are being hunted, being locked up, being crushed by a system that doesn’t give a shit about them. And he’s trying to do it in a way that’s joyful. That’s the radical part. The joy. The funk. The fact that he’s making you dance while he’s telling you to take the system by the throat.
“Take the system by the throat / That’s the antidote”. That’s the line. That’s the thesis. Not “vote harder.” Not “write a strongly worded letter.” Not “hope for the best.” Take the system by the throat. And then, because he’s not a nihilist, he says: “But bring the people with you, that’s the protocol”. It’s not about individual rage. It’s not about being the lone voice screaming in the wilderness. It’s about collective action. It’s about bringing the people with you.
I think about that a lot. I think about how much of our cultural conversation right now is about signaling versus doing. About posting versus acting. About being on the right side of history in your Instagram bio versus actually showing up for something. And “Ride the Fence” is a 3-minute, 43-second antidote to all of that. It’s a song that says: you know what you believe. Stop pretending you don’t. Stop hedging. Stop waiting for the perfect moment. Stop waiting for a permission slip. The moment is now. The permission slip is never coming.
The Coup never got huge. They never crossed over the way they deserved to. Boots Riley went on to make Sorry to Bother You, which is one of the best movies of the last decade, and he’s still out there, still organizing, still saying the same things he was saying in 2001 . And “Ride the Fence” still hits. It still sounds like it could have been written yesterday. It still makes me want to do something. Anything. Something other than just sitting here, on the fence, waiting for the world to make up its mind.
So yeah. That’s the song. Take a look around. Be for or against. But you can’t do shit if you’re riding the fence.
