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Never Mind the Boolocks

by Insane Society

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1.
United 02:34
The voice of oi is calling you, with a message that is true, punky 'erberts, straight or skin, all of you, come on in. Let's stick together and see it through, strength through oi is me and you, let them twist our every word, but we are gonna heard. The voice of oi is unity, to fight against austerity, think just how strong we could be, if we were free... 'cos oi ain't about having a fight, oi ain't about black v white, there's oi for skins and oi for punks, it's fun and fury, it's urban funk. The voice of oi is unity, think how strong we could be, united is the thing to be, united against society. Chorus
2.
Silver spoon and bottle fed, the Daily Mail is always read, by Young Conservatives born to win, another world you're living in, just like your parents, and theirs before, you and your children won't go to war, the front line ain't the place for you, you still believe your blood is blue. The British empire sons and daughters, who flirt with SDP supporters, share nightmares with Tony Benn, the militants on news at ten, you're born to rule, or so you say, church of England all the way, the book that feature Adam and Eve, these are the things that you believe. You won by the skin of teeth this time, another five years of Tory crime, they want your vote but you won't get mine, 'cos i'm never ever gonna be, - Young Conservative. Love and respect for King and Queen, National service at seventeen, Mary Whitehouse morals too, a Barbara Cartland novel view, these are the things that you support, the working class, they must be taught, how lucky they are to be free, to live in your democracy, With no free press or radio, and we're four million on the dole, just like the days before the war, the Tory party still stands for, mass unemployment and poverty, a them and us society, with no free press to tell the truth, only the voice of Tory youth. chorus The house of lords, the den of old, the wealth the power, the land they hold, the red, the white, the tory blue, young conservatives, I hate you....
3.
Born in a city of tower blocks, Alcatraz without the rocks, sent to over-crowded schools, beaten up if you broke the rules. How our mothers sit and cried, ‘cos they know were gonna die, we beat the boredom with slimming pills, go to the seaside in stolen wheels. They took away my liberty, they took away my soul, they tried to break the man in me, and left me in a hole. Bunk off school every other day, If we get caught, they make us pay, so we watch out for the boys in blue, you never know who’s watching you. Soldiers wearing pin striped suits, want us to wear marching boots, army life they say is fun, clear the streets of all the young. They took away my liberty, they took away my soul, they tried to break the man in me, and left me in a hole. National Service, hup two three four, National Service, hup two three, National Service, hup two, up two could’ve made a man outta me. We want you to go to war, kill another country’s poor, we are the class who fight their wars, sometimes steal from department stores, we are the class that their kind hate, ‘cos we live on council estates, so they’ve invented a new state game, playing soldiers is the name.
4.
Dead end Yobs got football, boxing or rock n roll, if they're any good at, to save 'em from the dole, but even if ya make it, certain people will say, you're still no good and you'll be no other way. 'cos ya don't talk proper, ya accent ain't true blue, born in a house in Hackney, with an outside loo. Dead end yobs, - kids like me and you, Dead end yobs, - just do what you wanna do, Dead end yobs, - we don't any notice of you. We could be gangsters, we could rob a bank, we could join the army, we could drive a tank, no hope, no future, when you're down and out, when you're at the bottom, nobody hears you shout. an authority, keeps knocking on ma head, from the day you're born, 'til the day you're dead. Dead end yobs, - kids like me and you, Dead end yobs, - they tell us what to do, Middle class people, look down on me and you. The school report read, he's a dead end yob, might just make it, in a dead end job, so I broke all the rules, in and out of school, got into trouble, nothing else to do, and when they nick us, don't they bleeding' love, sod the system, got to rise above it. Dead end yobs, - kids like me and you, Dead end yobs, - always at the back of the queue, It's us v them, the middle class and the boys in blue.
5.
Oi Oi 'ere we go, the new face of rock n roll Oi Oi 'ere we go, skinny kids straight off the dole, Oi Oi 'ere we go, the new face of rock n roll, Oi Oi 'ere we go. The new face of rock n roll, real life, not a show, street level points of view, songs written in the dole queue, they tried to give it a name, the year that losers found fame. High street fashion, we don't buy your clothes, we don't like your elitist pose, We are the kids who live on the street, the sub-culture you don't meet. Oi Oi 'ere we go, the new face of rock n roll Oi Oi 'ere we go, skinny kids straight off the dole, Oi Oi 'ere we go, the new face of rock n roll, Oi Oi 'ere we go. You sneer down your pink gins, like you did safety pins, the researchers of the dole queue, write books and movies too. The new face of rock n roll, seen it on the T.V. chat show, being discussed by you know who, politicians and vicar too. Oi Oi 'ere we go, the new face of rock n roll Oi Oi 'ere we go, it's me and you and life on the dole. Guitar solo This is it.... Oi Oi 'ere we go, the new face of rock n roll Oi Oi 'ere we go, skinny kids straight off the dole, Oi Oi 'ere we go, the new face of rock n roll, Oi Oi 'ere we go, the new face of rock n roll.
6.
The loyal, royal boy about town, putting up posters on the underground, his eyes are red, white and blue, his hair is blonde and he's six foot two, he's a bully boy in bovver boots, an anglo saxon looking for his roots, he's union jack with a flag on his back, he a jerk, he's a berk and he's on the attack, Loves to revel in the boot boy glory, but when he's in his closet, he's a typical tory. Boy about town, dresses to kill, fleet street headlines give him a thrill, Enoch warned, rivers of blood, boy about town can't see he's a mug, On a daily diet of stale white bread, The Sun, the scum with it's middle page spread, he feeds his face and fuels his head, with food for thought I thought was dead. Loves to revel in the boot boy glory, but when he's in his closet, he's a typical tory. He's a bully boy in beaver boots, a willing slave to men in suits, a militant mug, a vicious thug, hooked on hate, a dangerous drug, patriotic songs, slogans of war, holocaust anthems we've heard before, a forgotten boy who loves to hate, a museum piece who's out of date. Loves to revel in the boot boy glory, but when he's in his closet, he's a typical tory. the enemy of the working class, got no future, lives in the past.
7.
Joey Teen 03:12
They say that girls and boys like Joey Teen, are never to be heard and, seldom seen, sign on every other week, be thankful for the food you get to eat, welcome to the world of Joey Teen. Uncle Jack and dear old Auntie Jean, The parents of one precious Joey Teen, raised their kid just as was planned, but now have learned to understand, what it’s like to be a Joey Teen. Joey Teen, Joey Teen, What sort of life is this for Joey Teen? put your best foot forward and stand up for the queen, cos we know what is right for Joey Teen. The best that he can do is, sit and wait, or beg for work outside the factory gate, ‘cos now your country is at war, no job for life like our fathers had before, the future’s looking grim for Joey Teen. Chorus.
8.
They're the sons and daughters of well off bankers, Tom Robinsons' army of trendy wankers, flared blue jeans and anoraks, with yellow streaks all down their backs, who act so tough when their on TV, but trendy wankers don't scare me. Oi!, Oi! Oi! the chosen few this is what we think of you, suburban rebels playing at reds, you would be urban terrorists, you don't scare us with your badges and banners, you know fuck all about heavy manners. You're the middle class kiddies from public schools, Who write the slogans on the toilet walls, Like Tony Benn's clones in plastic macks, Wave hammer and sickle, never Union Jacks, Got lots of mouth when your in a crowd, But when your alone you don't speak loud
9.
I'm looking over my shoulder, I don't like what I see someone’s touting rumours, falsely accusing me, branded as a monster, whose side are you on? I thought we were the best of friends, how could I be so wrong? What you see is what you get, The lights are out, no room to let I'm all strung out but ain't dead yet, ‘cos what you see is what you get. You know that I’m no angel, and time ain’t on my side, ‘bad boy’ is my middle name, a badge I wear with pride, can’t take me to the cleaners, or make me good as new, ‘cos under all this flesh and blood, I'm just the same as you! Chorus Boots, braces, short cropped hair, I decide what I will wear, you disapprove, but I don’t care, 'cos this is me, and you best beware. Chorus I don’t give a toss what side of the river you’re from, and your political beliefs mean nothing to me, we were all born equal, or so I’m led to believe, so take a good long look in the mirror, and ask yourself, am I good, am I bad? I know what I am, - what you see is what you get.
10.
I remember what my old man said, pick a girl who’s none too bright, tell her that she’s something special, then choose your moment right, you gotta weigh up your chances, play it cool, that’s my advice, take a tip from one who’s wiser, but don’t think twice. Voice of reason, not in jest, mums the word but dad knows best, If getting laid is ones intention, don’t forget your contraception. She likes to go out dancing, on Saturdays when she can, Friday night we made arrangements, got a pony off of my old man, So I took her down to the Roxy, to try to get her pissed, in the back seat of a taxi, she slapped my wrist. Chorus.
11.
Fire 02:39
Fire...I'll take you to burn, Fire...I'll take you to learn, I'll..see..you burn! You fought hard and you saved and earned, but all of it's going to burn, and your mind, your tiny mind, you know you've really been so blind, now's your time, burn your mind.. you're falling far, too far behind. Oh, no..oh, no..oh, no, you gonna burn! Fire...to destroy all you've done, Fire...to end all you've become, I'll..feel..you burn! You've been living like a little girl, in the middle of your little world. and your mind, your tiny mind, you know you've really been so blind, now's your time, burn your mind, you're falling far, too far behind..woooo... Fire...I'll take you to burn. Fire...I'll take you to learn. You gonna burn!...you gonna burn!...you gonna burn! burn! burn! burn! burn! burn! burn! burn! burn! burn! burn! burn! burn! burn! (Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha!!!) Fire...I'll take you to burn.... Fire...I'll take you to learn... Fire...I'll take you to burn!
12.
A hero soldier served his Queen, Woolwich, London, SE18, hacked to death, two on one, murdered by islamic scum. Lee Rigby, Lee Rigby, 14:20, Wellington Street, Lee Rigby, Lee Rigby, Never Surrender, Never forget! Public outrage at their crime, String 'em up, an eye for an eye, Justice sucks, ya know what I mean, he could have played sticks for Citizen Keyne! Lee Rigby, Lee Rigby, 14:20, Wellington Street, Lee Rigby, Lee Rigby, Never Surrender, Never forget!
13.
It’s popular belief, that the cross of good Saint George, represents an evil in our midst, but you may be assured, that whoever made that claim, should stand before us all and be dismissed. No temptation, for migration, I’m proud to be the man I am. Do you wanna play in my patriotic game? raise your hand and never be ashamed. Our shores have not been breached, for 900 years or more, an island race protected by the sea, but traitors to the crown are the enemy within, and want to undermine our history. No damnation, or tribulation I’m proud to be the man I am. Do you wanna play in my patriotic game? raise your hand and never be ashamed. On the streets of London, another menace grows, a hundred years of hatred, their secrets now exposed, We’ve seen the black flag waving, verging on extreme, Paris was a warning, now terror reigns supreme. Do you wanna play in my patriotic game? raise your hand and never be ashamed.
14.
A time to drink, time for excess, a time to think, my life’s a mess, the lights are out on our Christmas tree, for fear of offending non christian belief. Last minute shop, don’t panic buy, time has run out, to order on-line, the town is empty ’til boxing day, a half price sale, can’t give it away. Christmas time, organised crime, wasting your cash on shit past its prime, It starts late September and goes on and on, So let’s all wake up, and admit it’s a con. Old folk freeze, home all alone, might raise a smile, if someone would phone, God bless Cameron and his Tory elite, don’t choke on your turkey or after 8 treat. A time to give, who has to pay? no Christmas bonus, with my JSA, won’t get any joy from breaking the law, so I’m doing fuck all for two weeks or more. Christmas time, organised crime, stuff your turkey where the sun don't shine, It starts late September and goes on and on, So let’s all wake up, and admit it’s a con.

about

This album was recorded whist waiting for the release of 'Cover it Up' We had previously done 'National Service' way back in 2008 on 'Buy one, get one free' but early in 2015, Garry contacted us to ask if we could do anything with 'Young Conservatives' one of his other poems. Due to other commitments, I was unable to work on it straight away, but did so a couple of weeks after the great British public voted for a further five years of Tory torture. After completion and release on iTunes, more sessions saw Garry's entire back catalogue given the Insane Society treatment, and without blowing my own trumpet, these productions are right up there with the very best we've ever done.

When Garry asked me to add music to some of his existing work from his publication, 'Boys of the Empire' I went on to produce even better results. Sadly, due to his poor health, Garry was unable to provide vocals for the extra songs and subsequently the tunes were used on other material.

It was a chance Email from a German fan of Garry's to Insane Society asking about further recordings that led to this release on Black Star records. An offer to see these songs on vinyl couldn't be turned down, so all seven masters formed side one. Side two was planned to featured a German punk band, but the label was unable to get copyright clearance so Insane Society obliged with some previously unreleased material.

We are all very pleased with the finished product, especially the sleeve design which unlike our previous releases, was not designed by Gavin Malcahy. I'm not too sure as to how the album became titled the way it did but I'm sure it's very tongue in cheek!

The CD that is part of the package, has over 30 minutes of bonus material. There are two interviews by Garry Bushell with myself and Garry Johnson, and a sensational rendition of 'If Looks could Kill' by Steve Walker.

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released March 28, 2020

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Insane Society Royal Tunbridge Wells, UK

Insane Society have been around for about 18 years. The first three albums had Sheldon Hannaford on lead vocals. Steve and Wag are almost ever present and Chris is the 4th bassist following Stefan (died) Gavin (retired due to fatherhood) and JJ Kaos who is still playing bass for The Last Resort. Sheldon took a free transfer to Vicious Rumours in 2011 before being dropped. ... more

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