MYTHS

The myths we really believe in
Are the ones we don’t notice we believe

CRUMBLE

Slip road and motorway
Watch the weeds grow
Watch the weeds grow
Hydrofoil and aeroplane
Grind to a halt
Grind to a halt

Ariel and phone mast
Turning to rust
Turning to rust
I-pad and Satnav
Crumble to dust
Crumble to dust

Crumble slowly
Crumble slowly
Crumble slowly
Crumble slowly

Facebook and Google
Server gone down
Server gone down
Blackberry and Apple
Juice running out
Juice running out

Bank and pension company
Wither and die
Wither and die
Dow Jones and FTSE
Breathe a deep sigh
Breathe a deep sigh

Crumble slowly
Crumble slowly
Crumble slowly
Crumble slowly

Loyalty and credit card
Throw them away
Throw them away
Check-out desk and shopping aisle
Nature invades
Nature invades

Manicure and high heel
Cracked and worn
Cracked and worn
Fashion accessory
Faded and torn
Faded and torn

Crumble slowly
Crumble slowly
Crumble slowly
Crumble slowly

Campfire burning bright
Keep yourself warm
Keep yourself warm

RECIPE FOR A RIOT

1) Create a society that values material things above all else.
2) Strip it of opportunities for meaningful work.
3) Raise taxes from the poor while exempting the rich and corporations.
4) Prop up failed financial institutions with public money.
5) Ask for more tax while vastly reducing public services.
6) Put adverts everywhere, regardless of people’s ability to afford the products.
7) Allow the cost of food, energy and housing to eclipse the ability to pay for them.
8) Light blue touch paper...

9) Condemn those who rebel.
10) Lock them up in the name of justice.

VICTIM

You stare at the box
You are glued to the screen
As your Internet phone
Burns a hole in your jeans
You’ve got no time to lose
As you burn up the road
You are on a short fuse
You’re about to explode

Your parents don’t care
That you’re out on the street
They curse and they swear
When you get under their feet
So you run with the mob
You riot and you loot
You steal and you rob
Then you put in the boot

But you’re not bad
You’re just getting your own back
You’re a victim
What did they do to you?
You’re a victim
What did they put you through?
You’re a victim

You unleash pandemonium
You are heaped with opprobrium
You have no sense of propriety
You have no place in society

So you self-medicate
To escape from your plight
And the stuff that you take
Gets you high as a kite
You’re untamed and you’re wild
You’re condemned and reviled
You’ve got nothing to lose
And everything to gain

But you’re not to blame
It’s something you can’t explain
You’re a victim
What did they do to you?
You’re a victim
What did they put you through?
You’re a victim
What else can you do?
You’re a victim
They’ve taken everything from you

OPEN MICHAEL

i am here at the station in kings heath
thursday night is 'simply overmiked' night
my first serious stab at live solo performance
i order a pint of grapefruity moondance ale
and grab a table by the bar
about twenty or so people are scattered
around the back room of the pub
under a big blackboard
a large table of punters chats gregariously
opened birthday cards littering the tables
i've rehearsed four songs before heading out
'mymomatosis' and 'fourth of july'
off the all seeing i
(t-shirt proudly sported)
and two brand new tracks
'god's country' and 'an innocent abroad'
the latter polished off a few days ago
as the words and music flooded out
ben our host for the evening
places a sign-up sheet on the bar
i secure second billing after a threesome called kings of spain
ben kicks off proceedings
he has a decent voice
combined with the kind of technical ability on the acoustic guitar
that i can only envy
an easy way of picking bluesy chords
which like those shimmying football maestros
i could never dream of emulating
ben has some clever machine that slowly builds up a sequence
strummed and thumped guitar,
finger clicks and strange gurgles
over which he improvises a solo
(a kind of digital one-man-band)
it's good but all cover versions of other people's songs
as far as i can fathom
would i rather be a clumsy lennonian/kilbeyesque guitarist
who writes his own material
or a blues picker who never came up with a song in his life?
i know which one i'd choose!
after ben the kings of spain do their thang
a strongly rhythmic combo
complete with mariachi style trumpet player
i tough act to follow
before i know it
my name is being announced
i plug in
test the mike
and launch into 'myxomatosis' with as much gusto as i can summon
i am greeted with general indifference
the groups of friends go on talking
strangely i'm not bothered
i'm up there performing
their loss
happily the song is almost note-perfect
with just a couple of stumbles
at the end
i suddenly find myself departing from the script
jumping up and down
as i manically strum out the closing bars
faster and faster
until i go out in a blaze of glory
this seems to get a reaction
...and a round of applause
the other three songs pass relatively uneventfully
as i come off stage to polite applause
ben the host casually sidles over
'that myxomatosis was crazy, man' he says
i have made an impact...

MORE ABOUT THE SCRIPT

the script is all pervasive
the scipt is sometimes codified but mostly unwritten
the script may start out as an external dialogue
but becomes an internal conversation
i shall or i shall not
this is how i must act in this situation
the script tends to reject the here and now - the impulsive
the script discliplines the mind
to the familiar and well-travelled
to the tried and tested
to the safe and sanctioned
to the ritual
but what if the script became a vehicle of improvisation
a loose framework to inspire creativity
a freeform jazz piece in the key of c sharp
i recognise that i am myself a slave to the script
as we all are
i hone my lesson plans like sharpening a billhook
i compose, refine and arrange my pop symphonies to god
multi-tracking the instruments and parts
like a latterday brian wilson or fifth beatle
(look what happened to brian!
never mind departing from the script
how about completely losing the plot?)
things have improved
i recall how i used to rehearse dialogues with friends as a teenager
terrified of what would happen if i had no script
to prompt my shy conversation
now it's "i must tell so-and-so about such-and-such"
which i usually forget to do
in many ways growing up should be about tearing up the script
the script that parents and teachers and friends
and the mass media have written
and rewriting it as one's own
i guess that's what being radical is all about
spotting a dodgy script
and making major revisions
until one is satisfied with the redrafted version
how far can i take this analogy?
i don't know
but i'll be interested to find out...

ED THE RED HERRING

this would be hilarious if it weren't so sad
the official opposition to the condems?
this flaccid functionary
with all the personality of a turnip?
give me a break!
"hey everybody
at a time when negotiations are wrong
and strikes are still going on
let's put aside the negotiating table
get around the rhetoric
and sort this thing out..."
yeah
well put eddie
well put
one for the labour movement

wet fish of the world unite!

THE ANIMAL IN WOO

Yes - the woodle is definitely a cottontail bunny!