By Remy Chillmister
Every few months, a political machine rediscovers music and immediately proves it has never actually listened to any.
This time the victim is Radiohead, who found out their song “Let Down” – a fragile, existential anthem about modern alienation had been dropped into an Immigration and Customs Enforcement promotional video like it was royalty-free elevator music.
Yes. Radiohead.
The band whose entire discography sounds like anxiety having a philosophical crisis inside a surveillance state.
And yes, they responded exactly how you hoped they would.
“We demand that the amateurs in control of the ICE social media account take it down… Also, go fuck yourselves.”
Polite, concise and historically accurate.
The Confidence of People Who Definitely Didn’t Listen to the Lyrics
The video, part of ICE’s “This Is Our Why” campaign, pairs emotional imagery with OK Computer’s “Let Down,” an album widely interpreted as a warning about technological control, institutional power, and humanity slowly dissolving under systems too large to care.
So naturally, someone in a government media office heard it and thought:
This slaps. Upload it.
No clearance, permission or apparent awareness that Radiohead’s fanbase includes approximately zero people who hear Thom Yorke sing and think, “You know who’d love this? Federal enforcement branding.”
It’s like using Black Sabbath to advertise a wellness retreat.
Technically possible. Spiritually insane.
The Long, Embarrassing Tradition of Politicians Missing the Point.
This isn’t new. It’s practically ceremonial at this stage.
Politicians keep using music they clearly don’t understand. Artists keep telling them to stop. Everyone acts shocked when musicians turn out to have opinions.
The Rolling Stones objected. Multiple pop artists objected. Comedians have objected. At this rate, someone could illegally use Napalm Death in a campaign video and still claim confusion when the band responds with legal paperwork and rage.
The formula never changes because music gives instant emotional credibility. Borrow a beloved song and suddenly your message feels cinematic instead of bureaucratic.
Unfortunately, songs are not emotional steroids you can just inject into messaging without consequences.
The “Everything Is Content” Disease
Modern institutions suffer from a very specific brain condition: the belief that culture exists purely as downloadable vibes.
Need emotion? Grab a song. Need humanity? Add slow motion. Need authenticity? Steal art made by people who would absolutely roast you publicly.
Hit post. Deal with fallout later.
It’s marketing strategy designed by people who think playlists are personality traits.
Why Artists Are Done Playing Nice
A song isn’t just background noise. It’s meaning accumulated over decades tbrough fans, memories, identity and intention.
When that meaning gets stapled onto messaging the artist fundamentally disagrees with, it stops being homage and starts being appropriation with better lighting.
Radiohead didn’t react strongly because they’re sensitive artists. They reacted strongly because someone tried to borrow emotional legitimacy without consent.
And musicians are increasingly tired of being unpaid branding consultants for causes they never endorsed.
The Funniest Part
None of this was unpredictable.
Thom Yorke has spent thirty years openly criticizing power structures, corporate control, environmental collapse, and institutional overreach. If you spun a wheel of “Bands Most Likely To Publicly Drag You,” Radiohead lands near the top every time.
Choosing them was not a gamble.
It was a self-own.
A Modest Proposal
Here’s an idea so radical it may cause dizziness:
If you want to use a band’s music, ask the band. I know, wild right?
Until then, this loop will continue forever. Officials will treat music like stock footage, artists will publicly torch them, and the internet will collectively watch another preventable PR disaster unfold in real time.
If your campaign team hears Radiohead and thinks “hype music,” unplug the speakers and reconsider every decision that led you here.
Somewhere right now, an intern is probably exporting the next video while Rage Against the Machine plays in the background.
And history once again prepares to faceplant.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Remy Chillmister covers heavy music and its surrounding chaos for Metal Lair. Skeptical of hype, unimpressed by corporate spin, and armed with a healthy distrust of industry narratives, he writes about artist rights, cultural absurdity, and the moments when musicians remind the world that music isn’t content – it’s confrontation. His work lives where music, culture, and chaos collide.
Read More From This Author: From Moshpits to Medicare: The Elder Metalhead Survival Guide