Protest music and the right to assemble have long been intertwined in the American story, forming a powerful chorus of dissent against injustice. This summer in Los Angeles, as sweeping immigration raids rattled communities and drew thousands into the streets, protest songs provided a soundtrack to a new wave of activism—and, tragically, to a forceful crackdown by law enforcement that left dozens injured and raised urgent questions about civil liberties in the United States.
Music has always been a rallying cry for those demanding change. From Rage Against the Machine’s thunderous “Killing in the Name” to Woody Guthrie’s folksy declaration that “This Machine Kills Fascists,” protest songs have kept people engaged and informed for generations. According to a recent article published on August 17, 2025, two new tracks have emerged as anthems for the current moment: Jesse Welles’ “Join ICE” and the Ensemble’s “It Ain’t Gonna Go Away—Ode to the Epstein Files.” These songs, each blistering in their own right, channel anger and hope into melodies that refuse to let listeners look away.
Jesse Welles, whose real name is Jesse Allen Breckenridge Wells, delivers a searing critique of immigration enforcement with “Join ICE.” The song fuses sharp guitar riffs and biting satire to unmask the motivations behind joining the agency, calling out brutality, complicity, and the systemic forces that enable them. The track is both a rallying cry and a stark reminder, as the article notes, that “music can still say what policy refuses to.”
The Ensemble’s “It Ain’t Gonna Go Away—Ode to the Epstein Files” takes a different tack, using plaintive banjo and sardonic wit to drag secrets and abuses into the spotlight. The song targets the unfinished business of justice in the Epstein scandal, proving that even in the darkest corners of power, art can force the world to listen. These new releases join a pantheon of protest anthems—from Kendrick Lamar’s “Alright” and Public Enemy’s “Fight the Power” to Childish Gambino’s “This Is America,” H.E.R.’s “I Can’t Breathe,” and Bob Dylan’s “Masters of War”—all of which continue to fuel the fire of resistance.
But in Los Angeles this June, as protest music echoed through the streets, the right to assemble was met with a violent response. According to Human Rights Watch, between June 6 and June 14, 2025, law enforcement officers—including local police, sheriff’s deputies, federal agents, and National Guard troops—used excessive force against protesters who had gathered to oppose immigration raids initiated by ICE at the direction of the Trump administration. The raids themselves were dramatic: heavily armed agents stormed stores, warehouses, restaurants, and car washes, detaining those suspected of being undocumented with the goal of deportation. The scale and aggression of these operations sparked outrage and drew crowds to protest daily outside the Metropolitan Detention Center and other government buildings.
Human Rights Watch, which observed the protests and interviewed 39 people—including protesters, journalists, medics, and legal observers—documented 65 cases in which law enforcement injured protesters, journalists, or bystanders. The actual number is likely much higher; in the three weeks following June 6, more than 280 people contacted the ACLU of Southern California to report injuries sustained during protest activity. The injuries ranged from severe bruising and lacerations to broken bones, concussions, an amputated finger, and even permanent eye damage. Officers fired tear gas, pepper balls, hard foam rounds, and flash-bang grenades directly at crowds, often at close range and without sufficient warning or provocation.
The violence was not limited to protesters. Journalists—many clearly identified with press credentials—were also targeted. On June 8, for example, Lauren Tomasi, an Australian reporter for 9News, was struck by a kinetic impact projectile while reporting live from downtown Los Angeles. Human Rights Watch documented 39 cases of journalists injured by law enforcement during these protests. In another instance, LAPD officers shot three well-known police accountability advocates at close range with kinetic impact projectiles on June 9, leaving them in pain for days. One of the advocates recalled an officer saying, “I’m going to pop you, as you are taking up my focus,” before shooting him in the groin.
Volunteer medics were not spared either. One medic was hospitalized after being struck by a hard foam round that left a deep, gaping wound. Others described spending hours tending to people bleeding from head wounds, suffering broken limbs, or struggling to breathe after exposure to chemical irritants. Christopher Fernandez, an intensive care nurse who came to help, told Human Rights Watch, “The chaos. The volume of everything. I was just going from people screaming, ‘Medic, medic!,’ one after another, for hours… People were bleeding from the head or the face, and they needed someone to look at them to tell them if they should go to the hospital. I have never experienced anything like this.”
While some violence and property destruction by protesters occurred—mainly in the early days of the protests—Human Rights Watch found that most of the violence was initiated by law enforcement. In many cases, officers forced protesters to leave areas without giving clear warnings or dispersal orders, and often fired less-lethal weapons indiscriminately into crowds. Protesters and observers described being “kettled”—trapped by lines of officers with no safe way to disperse—before being detained.
President Donald Trump’s response was swift and severe. On June 7, he called the protests a “form of rebellion against the authority of the Government of the United States,” deployed the National Guard, and authorized the use of regular Armed Forces as necessary. By June 9, 700 active-duty Marines had joined thousands of National Guard soldiers in Los Angeles, primarily to guard federal buildings. Local and state officials objected to the federal deployment, though local police themselves continued to act aggressively to shut down the protests.
The legal implications are profound. Human Rights Watch concluded that law enforcement violated international human rights law, US constitutional protections for free speech and assembly, and recently strengthened California state laws that restrict the use of less-lethal weapons and protect journalists. Section 13652 of California’s Penal Code, for example, forbids law enforcement from using kinetic energy projectiles to disperse protests except in narrowly defined circumstances, and only after clear warnings and efforts to de-escalate. Penal Code section 409.7 protects journalists’ right to cover protests, yet dozens were injured or detained.
Despite multiple lawsuits filed against the City and County of Los Angeles and the Department of Homeland Security, accountability remains elusive. Human Rights Watch wrote to the DHS, LAPD, and LASD on July 31, but received no response. On June 23, LAPD Chief Jim McDonnell announced a “comprehensive evaluation of each use-of-force incident” and pledged to act against any officer “who has fallen short” of department standards. Yet, as past lawsuits have shown, settlements often cost taxpayers millions while producing little systemic change.
As protest songs continue to capture the spirit of resistance and the wounds of those who stood up for their rights remain fresh, Los Angeles finds itself at a crossroads. The events of June 2025 have reignited debates about the balance between public safety and civil liberties, and whether the institutions meant to protect the public are truly accountable to it. The city’s streets may have quieted for now, but the echoes of protest—and the music that fueled it—linger, demanding answers and justice.
