Detected Stuff Or Otherwise

by Various Artists

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DEW A car passes by and stops near school I carry your history books in a bag you treasure your marbles like money I cover my past wrapped in a flag The things that we did for a living we'll have to live with that or vanish or lie the good life, isn't that what we long for it's not just easy as American pie Oh yes we die die die, death comes to all fact is, change is the only Eternal any flower girl will sprinkle daisy petals like a personal gesture, clear as dew, maternal
GANGRENE This country is crumbling to pieces due to stupidity and slackness it has itself an empire stolen by the ancestors of Europe’s scum who massacred the people, the innocent who drugged their conscience… And this poor rich continent developed into a bastion of Modern Violence slyly and invisibly conducted by a Big Clan infecting the men in their masculinity infecting the women in their femininity they both don’t want to be parents anymore It turns the women into spoilt and spineless cigarette-sucking, pleasure-seeking poppy music loving hysterically eye-rolling foolishly finger-snapping cool, empty armoured whiskey drinking, clean tranquilizers swallowing women accompanied by dynamic cigarette-smoking, alcohol-drinking muscleless men put up to buy cars luxuries, brands wear prostitutes, clothes perfumes, holiday trips insurances, more luxuries and speedboats; Smiling owners of Objects gripped by Great Alienation and the latent fear for their material future carried away by a rhythm that no heart can endure ruthlessly able to wreck the strongest nerves Infected men infected women full-time serving on the Big Machine… gangrene…
LORE OF THE LAMB I was in prison, long ago it was the first grade and I had to take a well-you-know the law says you must first raise your hand and ask the teacher for permission so I, obeyer of the lore of the lamb am busy raising my hand to the führer who says yes Thomas what is it? and I, Thomas, I say I… have-to-take-a… I mean, may-I-go Didn’t you go yesterday, she says and I say yes ma’am Mrs Parsley, Sir but I have to go again today but she says it’s no, and I say eh? and again she says no, but I go anyway except that I do it not outside, but in my pants why else would I have said I… have-to-take-a… I mean, may-I-go Six years old I was and yet I guess that even then I already knew the rule I must obey and rule by law and stick to all the regulations of the lore of the lamb otherwise I’m going to shit my pants So next time she’ll know I have to go, because I’m gonna shit her pants not mine
GOOF KING W So, basically, right, there once was this King, who was looking for a party. But all he saw was fucking snow. Meanwhile the frost was freezing his balls off. And then, as the moon shone bright that night, he suddenly noticed a poor old bugger looking for a chippy or something. Apparently the King couldn't believe his eyes. Never seen a peasant before, I suppose. "For fuck's sake, what's that?” he asked. "Where the fuck does that come from?" And his servant said: "Oh, that guy he lives eh... over there, under the mountain-trees... You know, where Saint Agnes always used to piss like a dog." "Well, you know what," the King then said, "let's bring that chap some bottles of booze and, eh... something to eat, and a couple of logs for the fire. So we can have a party, at hís place... Ha ha ha, let's go!" And thus they went, the King and his servant, into the fucking freezing cold. After a little while, though, the servant started to complain. About the dark, the cold, the heavy wind... "Sire,” he said, “I'm really getting tired..." "Nonsense," the King replied. "Just tread in my footsteps, young man. 'Cause they will warm your feet like never before. Yohoho, and on we go!" Now, according to the original story, this King became a Saint, right? Because he wanted to do some good to some poor fella. But obviously, the King was as mad as a nutter. No one in his right frame of mind would set off in the middle of the night, in the midst of winter, to carry all that shit by foot to a place really hard to reach. While, in the very first verse already, he could have simply invited that bloke in, for a meal... But yeah, that would make a really lousy Christmas Song, eh?
2-2-3 FRIDGES A car per person, will that be the rule or a private jet for every other fool and does each home need 10 rooms and a swimming pool and why do we think that two to three fridges are cool and these homes with those rooms, where we gonna build them? and once they are built, how we're gonna fill them? We lay claim to human genes public archives, village greens and we retreat to our gated communities with sensors, guards, and closed-circuit TVs we're not even surprised why so many fences rise we just lock ourselves in to lock others out forgetting like fuck what life is all about and all the junk we collect are substitutes and fractions of what we used to call human interaction we're not even surprised why so many fences rise Talk to your neighbours instead of to your telly think with your heart and not with your belly the nuts in our heads, are they brains or jelly why not admit that the rats are too smelly the rats are too smelly? the rats are too smelly!... When do we start facing all the damage we've done when do we stop pretending that in fact there is none when do we start doing things right instead of wrong when do we stop pretending we can solve it with a song talk to your neighbours instead of to your telly think with your heart and not with your belly the nuts in our heads, are they brains or just jelly the rats, they are smelly
RID There are many ways to kill someone there are many ways to kill somebody and all these ways, one must agree have a lifelong guarantee Let someone bite the bullet stick a knife into his chest do not cure him from his illness health is such a costly pest Don't put hunger on the menu just deny him decent food make him work himself almost to death and then give him the boot Stack him in a lousy home and cage him like a rat drive him towards suicide  and that's the end of that Or send him to war etcetera hush-hush, rush don't hesitate because only a little of all this  is forbidden by the state There are many ways to kill someone there are many ways to kill somebody and most of these, the judge agrees have lifelong guarantees
ABC & SHE Apart from missing the essential elemental skill that comes in handy when applied to a certain kind of cutting-up technique, which one sometimes borrows from this guy called Burroughs, I can’t say I’m quite unique in overestimating man’s abilities to underestimate the toughness of his very own physique. Yesterday, at the DIY HQ, I sliced my finger by mistake, and thus this finger started vomiting streams of blood, in all directions. I got soaked in red substance, and had to swim to the kitchen, and cling to the sink screaming for help. Then luckily there was She, rowing towards me. With scissors, cheers, and yells of support. And bountiful boxes of band-aid. Bob Geldof nowhere in sight, of course. But yes, She, the true Mother of All Band-Aids, saved me from drowning as such. So, thank you. Thank you thank you, thank you. Very. Bleeding. Much.
CRACK-ATTACK And as the leopardskin cat in the back of the limo said attack with its driver going nuts about some cocoa I felt even better than alive in this surreal free drive but at the crack of dawn, everything was gone and I ended up on a No Go lawn "Keep off the grass"? well, kiss my ass but going up in smoke is even less a joke 'Cause it's a crack-attack hey man, where's the turning back? it's a crack-attack, yeah it's a this is where it's at it's a No Go zone don't just stand there like that, you know you're on your own wanna be a wreck? then don't fight back this is the dawn of crack, better get it off your back it's a black'n'deckered backstab a whacking cheap wrecking smack the great leap back... the i'm-not-alright-Jack 'cause it's a crack-attack And though some uncool cat's dice raised the price of this tempting paradise from my stomach to my head, my heart said "do it" I had to float and fly and feel the need to wallow in this extra seat till I came home from the ball with a vicious fall back into the circle that blew it all 'Cause it's a crack-attack... Oh such euphoric oblivion this invincible intoxication then the unavoidable uncool collapse I thought I could handle any situation but with no way out I would have gone insane the biggest kick was to remove the pain Well I didn't count the score of the times that I swore not to do it anymore as it kept coming back like a pain in the neck 'cause it's a crack-attack It's a crack-attack, Jack but you see, I fought back not sure if I'm cured but I've stood the test it doesn't mean I'm better than the rest I'm just not dead and I didn't go insane there are other ways to deal with pain
WATTE? Het kan best zo wezen dat ik vroeger wellicht iets teveel zoop en iets teveel snoof en dat ik sinds m’n jongste jaren in geen een van de mij aangeboden goden geloof en dat ik het destijds met m’n ouders alleen eens was over onze generatiekloof en dat ik veel van m’n praatjes jatte uit boeken van een vast wel vage filosoof en dat ik toen zeer regelmatig zonder een kaartje de tram, trein of metro instoof en dat ik al punkconcertenbezoekend veel te weinig watten in m’n oren schoof en dat ik op-en-neer dansend de heen-en-weer-waai hippie in mezelf wegwoof en dat ik thuis stiekem steeds vaker de volumeknop steeds weer een stukkie verder verschoof en dat ik ook nu nog geregeld de kleedkamerkoelkast vol wijn, bier en whisky wegroof en dat ik mezelf daarmee ook tijdens m’n werk op stimulerende wijze verdoof en dat ik daarna tot niets meer in staat ben en zodoende niemand nog ooit iets beloof en dat ik mij daarom, zelfs voor geen goud nee nooit en te nimmer voor eikels uitsloof En toch ben ik nu ontroerd, ontdaan, ontluisterd door het inzicht dat in mijn gezichtsveld schoof hoe meer ik beschreeuwd word, en keihard befluisterd hoe meer ik hoor zeggen... nee, punk is niet doof


various stuff by various artists (including Mr Sok)
detected somehow by Ack!Ack!Ack! Records


released April 25, 2016

vocals by G.W. Sok
music by the Various Artists Involved


all rights reserved



G.W. Sok Amsterdam, Netherlands

G.W. Sok co-founded The Ex in 1979 and was their singer and lyricist for 30 years ( Since 2009 he is involved in various other projects, such as Action Beat (UK), Zoikle (NL), Cannibales & Vahinés (F), King Champion Sounds (UK/NL), Coddiwomple (F), Oiseaux-Tempête (F), L&S (F). And there's some solo stuff as well. ... more

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