Tears of Rage

How about this, in a similar vein - but british and 20 years older.

The band is called Conflict - and I have it on an independent punk collection called 'We won't be your f*cking poor'.
Imagine racing punk music with minimal production values and a female vocalist who never takes a breath:

Do you know that at least 70% of the human population of this planet starve and many more do not get enough to eat? You must now be familiar with reports of the famine In Ethiopia, where the weather has been so dry that crops fall, where the people are so hungry they have to walk many miles to the nearest relief station where there might be food If proplr have been generous. In any one station at least 40 people a day die. totally shriveled. They haven't the energy to brush away the flies that are waiting for THEIR meal. These poeple are the victims of our western governments. In Britain alone there are massive great food stores where surplus grain sits, In the EEC there are food mountains, In Amrerica farmers are paid to destroy part of their harvest, while big corporations plunder the 3rd world countries at the expense of the natives. Why Is this? - Economics, the science of greed. That which says people must pay western prices for their food. Naturally, starving countries can't afford this especially when their government takes the best first. The western governments have plenty of money. They tax us on our income, then they tax us on what we buy. They take the money we have worked for and use it to buy arms. They would rather be able to destroy the world 12 instead of 10 times over rather than transport surplus food to those who die. Indeed, they become ill through obesity. Must we tolerate these obscenities? When soon even we may be starving because of their taxes.

Some people don't see the connections between big business and destruction. The biggest murderers are MacDonald's. Not only do they breed and slaughter millions of cattle, great rain forests are pulled down to make way for grazing ground. This destroys hundreds of unique species each time not to mention the fact that we need trees to produce oxygen for the planet. Many birds In North America migrate to these forests, on arriving and finding no forest they die. The drop in population of birds means more insects and the America's only answer to this is pesticide. We all know about factories who manufacture pesticide, you know about Union Carbide. They're an American Company who set up dangerous plants where it doesn't matter if something goes wrong. Nearly 3,000 Indians are now dead due to their callousness, thousands have strokes and injuries that will never heal. Innocent people who had done nothing, whose life is not easy anyway, and why? So America can steal food from the starving millions.

Nearly all big business, is based on exploitation of the worst kinds. Cosmetic companies use dead animals to make their products, then poison many more by feeding it to them with the end result of encouraging sexism by convincing men and women to look the same as each other. Advertising promotes this and advertising of any kind usually portrays women as a sex object only, there to be raped. Drug companies (like Roche & ICI) claim to invent new drugs to cure imagined diseases. Thousands die at the hands of their useless research. They try to make drugs to cure heart disease which was originally caused by the sufferer eating meat and dairy products to excess. Booker McConnell own everything from butchers to health shops, as long as the cash rolls in who cares? Other companies who make machinery and domestic appliances (like Thorn EMI.) also make defense gadgetry. British Aerospace specialize In fighters in favour of passenger jets. Governments pay more for weaponry than domestic consumers pay for domestic items. That's why many many comapnies world wide clamour for defense orders, some would go bankrupt without them. The final industry, uranium mining, sponsored in Britain by RTZ plunders the landscape, kills the wildlife,exploits the natives and gives them cancer. The product makes bombs to kill all and is used for nuclear fuel. The kind of power that produces waste which can be pumped Into the sea In Cumbria. Deformed babies and children dying of leukemia are coincidences we are told.

How many more lies must we listen to?

20 years - Could well have been a couple of weeks.

The Crow on the Cradle

The sheep's in the meadow
The cow's in the corn
Now is the time
For a child to be born
He'll laugh at the moon
and he'll cry for the sun
And if it's a boy
He'll carry a gun
Sang the crow on the cradle

And if it should be
that this baby's a girl
Never you mind
if her hair doesn't curl
With rings on her fingers
and bell's on her toes
and a bomber above her
wherever she goes
Sang the crow on the cradle

The crow on the cradle
The black and the white
Somebody's baby
is born for a fight
The crow on the cradle
The white and the black
Somebody's baby
is not coming back
Sang the crow on the cradle

Your mother and father
they'll sweat and they'll save
to build you a coffin
and dig you a grave
Hush-a-bye little one
Never you weep
for we've got a toy
that can put you to sleep
Sang the crow on the cradle

Bring me my gun
and I'll shoot that bird dead
that's what your mother and father
once said
A crow on the cradle
what can we do?
Ah this is a thing
that I leave up to you
Sang the crow on the cradle

Ah, this is a thing
that I leave up to you
Sang the crow on the cradle

Jackson Browne and Graham Nash sang this on a double album called "No Nukes" (1979)

Hi, Tai Chi. I like that.

The Trees - Rush

There is unrest in the forest,
There is trouble with the trees,
For the maples want more sunlight
And the oaks ignore their pleas.

The trouble with the maples,
(And they're quite convinced they're right)
They say the oaks are just too lofty
And they grab up all the light.
But the oaks can't help their feelings
If they like the way they're made.
And they wonder why the maples
Can't be happy in their shade.

There is trouble in the forest,
And the creatures all have fled,
As the maples scream "Oppression!"
And the oaks just shake their heads

So the maples formed a union
And demanded equal rights.
"The oaks are just too greedy;
We will make them give us light."
Now there's no more oak oppression,
For they passed a noble law,
And the trees are all kept equal
By hatchet, axe, and saw.

Sweethearts
Camper Van Beethoven

'Cause he's always living back in Dixon
Circa 1949
And we're all sitting at the fountain, at the five and dime
'Cause he's living in some B-movie
The lines they are so clearly drawn
In black and white life is so easy
And we're all coming along on this one

'Cause he's on a secret mission
Headquarters just radioed in
He left his baby at the dancehall
While the band plays on some sweet song

And on a mission over China
The lady opens up her arms
The flowers bloom where you haved placed them
And the lady smiles, just like mom

Angels wings are icing over
McDonnell-Douglas olive drab
They bear the names of our sweethearts
And the captain smiles, as we crash

'Cause in the mind of Ronald Reagan
Wheels they turn and gears they grind
Buildings collapse in slow motion
And trains collide, everything is fine
Everything is fine
Everything is fine

O Superman
Laurie Anderson

O Superman.
O judge.
O Mom and Dad.
Mom and Dad.

O Superman.
O judge.
O Mom and Dad.
Mom and Dad.

Hi.
I'm not home right now.
But if you want to leave a message,
just start talking at the sound of the tone.

Hello?
This is your Mother.
Are you there?
Are you coming home?
Hello?
Is anybody home?

Well, you don't know me,
but I know you.
And I've got a message to give to you.
Here come the planes.

So you better get ready.
Ready to go.
You can come as you are,
but pay as you go.
Pay as you go.

And I said: OK.
Who is this really?

And the voice said:
This is the hand,
the hand that takes.
This is the hand,
the hand that takes.
This is the hand,
the hand that takes.
Here come the planes.

They're American planes.
Made in America.
Smoking or non-smoking?

And the voice said:
Neither snow nor rain
nor gloom of night
shall stay these couriers
from the swift completion
of their appointed rounds.

'Cause when love is gone,
there's always justice.
And when justive is gone,
there's always force.
And when force is gone,
there's always Mom.
Hi Mom!

So hold me, Mom,
in your long arms.
So hold me, Mom,
in your long arms.
In your automatic arms.
Your electronic arms.
In your arms.

So hold me, Mom,
in your long arms.
Your petrochemical arms.
Your military arms.
In your electronic arms.

It astounds me how many there are out there producing these insightful lyrics, most of which I have never heard of before.

I agree with you edgar, and there's a lot to digest!

Listening to Tom Russell's "Who's Gonna Build Your Wall?" now, on webradio. Never heard of the guy. Country western song - in defense of the Mexicans that those Minutemen want to throw out. Cool.

The Great Divide -- Janis Ian

Come good people and gather 'round
Step out of the water before you drown
Tide is coming swift and deep
Gonna knock you off your feet
There's a tide of greed that knows no shame
and a tide of money that holds no stain
A tide of men who worship pride
and will not be denied

While politicians lie and cheat
to get to higher ground
we follow them like sheep
and salute them as we drown
but no man will be king
when all men wear the crown
and there will be a reckoning
from deep inside the rising tide
as we tear down the walls
of the Great Divide

Come good people and gather here
You who still hold freedom dear
Step across the waters
Bring your sons and daughters
Some will sink and some will swim
Some will walk on water again
Some will rise and some will fall
Each one will hear the call

While churches counsel patience
and heavenly reward
they sub-divide our nations
by the shield and by the sword
and every congregation
has a pipeline to the Lord
but there will be no salvation
and no place to hide for those who lied
and buried us alive to build the walls
of the Great Divide

And oh, when the poorest of the poor
come knocking at the door
they will not be denied
And oh, when those who took too much
are stripped of it and judged
then mercy will provide for the rising tide

So come good people and gather 'round
Come and stand on common ground
Raise your voices up and sing
Let's make the heavens ring
And you whose silence cost your soul
Learn to speak or dig your hole
Tomorrow's here and it won't wait
No time to hesitate

The tide's already risen
The deluge is at hand
Don't sit there by the ocean
while it sucks away the sand
'cause you'll be left with nothing
but the memory of land
while we sit high above the tide
and watch the walls begin to fall
as one by one our children wave goodbye
to the Great Divide

Always have liked Janice, ever since Society's Child.

Fools Like You
Blue Rodeo

So good at doing
What you don't do
Just trying to protect yourself
And other fools like you
So well practised
In your deceit
Behind the high walls of stupidity
Your endless conceit
Behind the locked door
The sleeping dog you beat
I hope I see the day
She satisfies her teeth

Give back to the native
Their treaty land
What you preach you preach for others
Why don't you practice that firsthand

I just don't understand
This world of mine
I must be out of touch
Or out of my mind
And will the profits of destruction
Forever make your eyes blind
Do you bow to the corporations
'Cause they pay their bills on time

God bless Elijah
With the feather in his hand
Stop stealing the Indian land
Stop stealing the Indian land
Stop stealing the Indian land

Waste Of Paint
Bright Eyes

I have a friend, he is made mostly of pain.
And he wakes up, drives to work,
and then straight back home again.
He once cut one of my nightmares out of paper.
I thought it was beautiful, I put it on a record cover.
And I tried to tell him he had a sense
of color and composition so magnificent.
And he said

"Thank you, please
but your flattery
is truly not
becoming me.
Your eyes are poor.
You're blind.
You see,
no beauty could have come from me.
I'm a waste
of breath,
of space,
of time."

I knew a woman, she was dignified and true.
And her love for her man was one of her many virtues.
Until one day, she found out that he had lied
and she decided the rest of her life from that point on would be a lie.
But she was grateful for everything that had happened.
And she was anxious for all that would come next.
But then she wept.
What did you expect?
In that big, old house
with the cars she kept.
"Oh!" and "such is life," she often said.
With one day leading
her to the next,
you get a little closer to your death,
which was fine with her.
She never got upset
and with all the days she may have left,
she would never clean
another mess
or fold his shirts
or look her best.
She was free
to waste
away
alone.

Last night, my brother he got drunk and drove.
And this cop pulled him off to the side of the road.
And he said, "Officer! Officer! You got the wrong man.
No, no, I'm a student of medicine, the son of a banker, you don't understand!"
The cop said, "No one got hurt, you should be thankful.
And your carelessness, it is something awful.
And no, I can't just let you go.
And though your father's name is known,
your decisions now are yours alone.
You are nothing but a stepping stone
on a path
to debt,
to loss,
to shame."

The last few months I have been living with this couple.
Yeah, you know, the kind who buy everything in doubles.
They fit together, like a puzzle.
And I love their love and I am thankful
that someone actually receives the prize that was promised
by all those fairy tales that drugged us.
And they still do me.
I'm sick, lonely,
no laurel tree,
just green envy.
Will my number come up eventually?
Like Love's some kind of lottery,
where you scratch and see
what is underneath.
It's "Sorry",
just one cherry,
or "Play Again."
Get lucky.

So I've been hanging out down by the train's depot.
No, I don't ride.
I just sit and watch the people there.
They remind me of wind up cars in motion.
The way they spin and turn and jockey for positions.
And I want to scream out that it is all nonsense.
All your lives one track,
can't they see it's pointless?
But just then, my knees
give under me.
My head feels weak
and suddenly
it's clear to see
it's not them but me,
who has lost my self-identity.
As I hide behind
these books I read,
while scribbling
my poetry,
like art could save a wretch like me,
with some ideal ideology
that no one can hope to achieve.
And I am never real;
it is just a sketch in me.
And everything I made is trite
and cheap
and a waste
of paint,
of tape,
of time.

So now I park my car down by the cathedral,
where the floodlights point up at the steeples.
Choir practice was filling up with people.
I hear the sound escaping as an echo.
Sloping off the ceiling at an angle.
When the voices blend they sound like angels.
I hope there's some room still in the middle.
But when I lift my voice up now to reach them.
The range is too high,
way up in heaven.
So I hold my tongue,
forget the song,
tie my shoe
and start walking off.
And try to just keep moving on,
with my broken heart
and my absent God
and I have no faith
but it's all I want,
to be loved.
And believe,
in my soul.
In my soul.
In my soul.
In my soul.

Let's Not **** Ourselves (To Love And Be Loved)
Bright Eyes

Here we go. Can I get a goddamn timpany roll to start this goddamn song? Tonight it is a goddamn song, for all you goddamn people:

Well, the animals laugh from the dark of the wilderness. A baby cries hard in an apartment complex, as I pass in a car buried under the influence. The city's driving me out of my mind. I've seen a child, he's caught in the sad trap of gravity. He falls from the lowest branch of the apple tree and lands in the grass and weeps for his dignity. Next time he will not aim so high. Yeah, next time, neither will I. Now, a mother takes loans out, sends her kids off to colleges. Her family's reduced to names on a shopping list. While, a coroner kneels beneath a great, wooden crucifix. He knows there's worse things than being alone. I've learned to retreat at the first sign of danger. I mean, why wait around, if it's just to surrender? An ambition, I've found, can lead only to failure. I do not read the reviews. No, I am not singing for you.

Well, I stood dropping a coin into the pit of a well. And I would throw my whole billfold if I thought it would help. With all these wishes I make, I should buy something real, at least a telephone call home. Well, My teachers, they built this retaining wall memory, all those multiple choices I answered so quickly. And got my grades back and forgot just as easily, but at least I got an A. And so I don't have them to blame. Well, I should stop pointing fingers; reserve my judgment of all those public action figures, the cowboy presidents. So loud behind the bullhorn so proud they can't admit when they've made a mistake. While poison ink spews from a speechwriter's pen, he knows he don't have to say it, so it, it don't bother him. "Honesty" "Accuracy" is just "Popular Opinion." And the approval rating is high, and so someone's gonna die. Well, ABC, NBC, CBS: Bullshit. They give us fact or fiction? I guess an even split. And each new act of war is tonight's entertainment. We're still the pawns in their game. As they take eye for an eye until no one can see, we must stumble blindly forward, repeating history. Well, I guess we all fit into your slogan on that fast food marquee: Red blooded, White skinned oh and the Blues. Oh and the Blues! I got the Blues! That's me! That's me!

Well, I awoke in relief. My sheets and tubes were all tangled weak from whiskey and pills, in a Chicago hospital. And my father was there, in a chair by the window, staring so far away. I tried talking, just whispered, "...so sorry...so selfish.." He stopped me and said, "Child I love you regardless and there is nothing you could do that would ever change this. I'm not angry. It happens. But you just can't do it again." And so now I try to keep up, I've been exchanging my currency. While a million objects pass through my periphery. Now I'm rubbing my eyes cause they're starting to bother me. I've been staring too long at the screen. But where was it when I first heard that sweet sound of humility? It came to my ears in the goddamn loveliest melody. How grateful I was then to be part of the mystery, to love and to be loved. Let's just hope that is enough.

djjd
I thought I knew lots of offbeat songs, but you get the gold.

DJ I am so getting into Bright Eyes since I found some free mp3s on Amazon

Do you know anything about them?

I love:

Lua

I know that it is freezing, but I think we have to walk
I keep waving at the taxis, they keep turning their lights off
But Julie knows a party at some actor's West side loft
Supplies are endless in the evening by the morning they'll be gone

When everything is lonely I can be my own best friend
I'll get a coffee and the paper, have my own conversations
with the sidewalk and the pigeons and my window reflection
The mask I polish in the evening by the morning looks like ****

And I know you have a heavy heart, I can feel it when we kiss
So many men stronger than me have thrown their backs out trying to lift it
But me I'm not a gamble, you can count on me to split
The love I sell you in the evening by the morning won't exist

You're looking skinny like a model with your eyes all painted black
Just keep going to the bathroom, always say you'll be right back
Well, it takes one to know one, kid, I think you've got it bad
But what's so easy in the evening by the morning's such a drag

I got a flask inside my pocket, we can share it on the train
And if you promise to stay conscious I will try and do the same
We might die from medication, but we sure killed all the pain
But what was normal in the evening by the morning seems insane

And I'm not sure what the trouble was that started all of this
The reasons all have run away, but the feeling never did
It's not something I would recommend, but it is one way to live
Cause what is simple in the moonlight by the morning never is

It was so simple in the moonlight now it's so complicated
It was so simple in the moonlight, so simple in the moonlight
So simple in the moonlight...

And Hingehead gets the other gold.

he's a fairly young kid from nebraska, who's been performing since he was a teenager, lot's of angsty kind of songs, good writing, sometimes annoying music and vocals, but i'm kinda into the non singer kind of singers

he and a bunch of fellow nebraska musicians started the saddle creek label to promote their music

here's the website saddle creek, lots of info and mp3's to check out

fave albums of mine, letting off the happiness, fevers and mirrors and lifted(or the story is in the soil, keep your ear to the ground)

both of the above songs came from lifted

don't sell yourself short edgar, you continue to wow me with your depth of musical knowledge