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FR   EN   NL   ES   IT   GE  Banned From The Roxy, par CRASS

Introduction from Well Forked - But Not Dead
"For the first few months of 1977, the Roxy a black hole in the wet London streets, drain all for the painted sewer rats, played host to a phenomenon. Out from the dark caves, where anarchy had hidden his face these last years, out again in the streets, the voice of hope the cry of future that was buried in the narcotic fuck-up of the sixties. Punk came out to air his dirty wings, crashing out from the stagnant mire that was the Beach Boys' sperm in Malibu Beach, the Beatles death-picking in Madison Square Garden, the Pistols, The Damned, the Clash, the Stranglers, the Jam. New sounds, new vocabulary. The dirty little Roxy bounced to the new energy and Wall-Street and the city pricked up their dollar ringing ears. Within six months the new anarchy was bought out, the capitalist counter-revolutionaries killed with cash. Punk shout from being a mouvement of change to become in the biggest media burn out since "hippy". In six months it became a burnt out memory of how it might have been. Bought up, cleaned up, souped up. Just another cheap product for the consumer head."

Banned from the Roxy... O.K.
I never much liked playing there anyway.
They said they only wanted well behaved boys,
Do they think guitars and microphones are just fucking toys?
Fuck 'em, I chosen to make my stand,
Against what I feel is wrong with this land.
They just sit there on their overfed arses,
Feeding off the sweat of less fortunate classes.
They keep their fucking power cause their finger's on the button,
They've got control and won't let it be forgotten.
The truth of their reality is at the wrong end of a gun,
The proof of that is Belfast and that's no fucking fun.
Seeing the squaddy lying in the front yard,
Seeing the machine guns resting on the fence.
Finding the entrance to your own front door is barred
And they've got the fucking nerve to call it defence.
Seems their defence is just the threat of strength,
Protection for the privileged at any length.
The government protecting their profits from the poor,
The rich and the fortunate chaining up the door.
Afraid that the people may ask for a little more
Than the shit they get. The shit they get.
The shit they get. The shit they get.
The shit they get. The shit they get.
The shit they get. The shit they get.

Oh yes they say it's defence, they say it's decency,
Mai Lai, Hiroshima, know what I mean?
The same fucking lies with depressing frequency,
They say "We had to do it to keep our lives clean"
Well whose like? Whose fucking life?
Who the fuck are they talking to?
Whose life? Whose fucking life?
I tell you one thing, it ain't me and you.
And their system, christ, they're everywhere,
School, army, church, corporation deal.
A fucked up reality based on fear,
A fucking conspiracy to stop you feeling real.
Well ain't got me, I'd say their fucking wrong,
I ain't quite ready with my gun, but I've got my song...
Banned from the Roxy, well O.K.
I never much liked playing there anyway.

Les autres titres de CRASS Angels, Asylum, Big man, big M.A.N., Chairman of the bored, Contaminational power, Crutch of society, Darling, Demoncrats, Do They Owe Us A Living ?, End Result, Fight War, Not Wars, Fun going on, G's Song, General Bacardi, Heard too much about, Hurry up Garry, I ain't thick, it's just a trick, Mother-earth, Punk is dead, Reject Of Society, Securicor, So What, Sucks, System, The Gasman cometh, They've Got Bomb, Time Out, Tired, Upright Citizen, Walls (fun in the oven), What a shame, White punks on hope, Women, You Pay, You've got big hands

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