Get all 10 Mark Ayling releases available on Bandcamp and save 25%.
Includes unlimited streaming via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality downloads of Black Dog, Grosvenor Ghosts, Nowhere Left To Hide, Big City Dreams/Small Town Failings, Out Of Step, Out Of Time, Live at the Kelpie, Live at the Alter Bahnhof, Live At Pivo Pivo, and 2 more.
1. |
||||
|
My dad once told me that I've got a chip on my shoulder
And these words have stuck with me as I've got older
I'm not sure if I believed what he said was true
But I do know we held opposite points of view
Over the years my anger and hatred has swollen
Watching the rights successive governments have stolen
Expense accounts that squander public money
Flies around shit, wasps stuck to honey
Selling out our future to feather their nests
It's these smug, self-serving bastards I detest
Tell me......why do we put up with this?
In a divided nation split by lies and deceit
Apathy beats anger, resigned in defeat
Powerless to fight historic autonomy
Powerless to protest this corrupt democracy
Tell me......why do we put up with this?
So I sit in silence and try to switch off
But I just can't do it, my brain won't stop
Too many people content to be part of this disease
How can they hold their heads up high, when they're down on their knees?
|
||||
2. |
Death of the High Street
04:40
|
|||
|
The brightly-coloured adverts keep dropping through my door
With glossy promises of savings and bargains galore
There's something for all of the family, there'll be so much to buy
But as with everything that seems too good to be true
The real cost is hidden behind a good price
So we take a drive out
Past the 'To Let' signs and the white-washed windows of our high street
These concrete blocks resonate with generations of shoppers feet
The shadows of a prosperous past flicker all around
Those glory days now forgotten, left buried, in an unmarked grave on unconsecrated ground...
In cathedrals to consumerism on the edge of town
Bowed in worship, the credit-led disciples gather round
At the altar, crumbling under the weight of all our greed
So I kneel here, but I can't find a single thing I need
Now the shining aisles beckon us in a desperate call
This 24-7 communion is what keeps us all enthralled
and enslaved to this new religion
and to these neon gods we've made
Hundreds stepping in time
Thousands all queueing
Lined up like wind-up toy soldiers marching
To the same old beat from a worn-out, broken drum
In cathedrals to consumerism on the edge of town
Bowed in worship, the credit-led disciples gather round
At the altar, crumbling under the weight of all our greed
So I kneel here, but I can't find a single thing I need
So I find the pub and sit up at the bar
I try to choose a drink from all the bottles shipped in from afar
The barman tells me
"This is a faithful reproduction of the Inn that used to stand on the high street"
So I try to choose a drink
I try to choose a drink
I try to choose........
But all I can find is bitter here..........
|
||||
3. |
||||
|
Whatever happened to all the belief and the conviction that you held
All those words you wrote as your passion spilled out for your anger at this world?
All the respect we gave that never was returned but still our loyalty burned
And why has all the hatred you had now turned towards us? Is it...
Because your matriach
She had the loudest bark
Pulling at your strings
and controlling everything?
So there's nothing left to say
and would it matter anyway?
Onto you pedestal you climb
and play this ritual one more time
But as the music starts to fade
Like all the promises you made
And the stage lights start to dim
We know we'll always be......on the outside looking in
Now we can trace this back a good many years to where it all began
As you regenerated, we were tolerated, but the seething resentment ran
Wild in your mind, your sales falling behind, you needed the masses to
Conform to your ideals, (you know we never will) and to your matriarch
She had your image contrived
So when you signed on the line
You lost a piece of yourself
And for that we got the blame
Now there's nothing left to say
It wouldn't matter anyway
Onto your pedestal you climb
and play this ritual one last time
As the music fades away
Like all the promises you made
And the stage lights are now dim
We know we'll always be......on the outside looking in
|
||||
4. |
Black Dog
03:21
|
|||
|
I leave the city behind
and follow the stream of red lights
The sun sets in my rear view mirror
In a convoy of thousands, each alone
Lost in the rumble of tyres and engine drone
With hundreds of miles left to find our way home
Anonymous towns drift slowly by
The ghosts on this road only hitchhike at night
A silent passenger in the cab by my side
A million street lights count the miles
A thousand thoughts to reconcile
As my demons move to stand me on trial
Big wheels are rolling and diesel burns
All the old cliches seem to return
But these endless miles grind the souls off us all
'cos this is not the chromium gleam
Of the Country and Western American dream
This is the M6 northbound into the night.....
|
||||
5. |
Walls Come Closing In
04:10
|
|||
|
It's the way that we view the world
Through blinkered eyes
Claustrophobic in the darkness
Shuttered from the light
Always hoping for the best
Never expecting the worst
Into ourselves we immerse
The crowds on the high street
Reflect the solitary lives that we lead
Viewing the world in the palm of their hand
Not looking past the end of their feet
Enslaved to a 6" screen
Sharing information so comfortably
With no uncertainty
But confusion starts within
As the walls come closing in
Closing in
The satellites orbiting round and round
Beaming information back to the ground
As we whisper breathlessly
Under the watchful gaze of the enemy
Stationed on every corner, the silent sentry
Behavioural profiling for database entry
through miles and miles of network cables
to central control
and the banks of black and white screens
They're watching you, watching them, watching me
As we blink in to the light
Fists clenched ready to fight
and start to raise the questions, they say
"It's for your own protection
If you've done nothing wrong then you've got nothing to hide"
So the radar towers and listening stations
Guarded by men with guns and uniforms
Are no longer needed
They've been succeeded
By the black box informer in your living room
and forward-facing, backward-thinking, windscreen mounted cameras
to protect ourselves
to police each other
|
||||
6. |
The Last Visit
03:25
|
|||
|
Memories ebb and flow
of stories that were told
Over 30 years ago
This house has never changed
Still full of ghosts and memories
just rearranged
I try to focus through the haze
Try to recognise the face
beyond the sadness and shaded lines
but the young are now the old
and the old have disappeared
Lost in time
The world outside the window
Grows silent for now
As I try to listen
To the stories that these four walls can tell
On those long summer days
with not a care for anything
In overgrown, abandoned places where we'd play
Now those trucks no longer stand
On the station yard waste ground
and the trains will never run this way again
Because nothing stays the same
Even these memories will change
Nothing left ingrained
|
||||
7. |
Fake
02:47
|
|||
|
I've heard your songs, they speak of your struggle to be free
I see the way you've convinced everyone that you're from the streets
The way you drop your H's and miss out all the T's
But I see straight through you, your privilege is plain to see
And it's all the make-believe that I can't stand
But the kudos that you've gained helps to market your brand
You say "I'm so working class, I grew up with nothing and it was tough round our way"
But I can spot class afrom a mile away
|
||||
8. |
Again and Again
03:07
|
|||
|
There were never meant to be any heroes
I am just like you, you were just like me
The playing field was supposed to be levelled
A game of harmony and symmetry
That's what makes this so embarrassing to watch
This re-alignment of your past
Out of all the clothes you wore and all the things you said
Only the music was ever meant to last
This keeps happening again and again
The martyr's crown bestowed upon you far outweighs your name
And this keeps happening again and again
The chaos that surrounded you is now passive and tame
For nearly 20 years your column inches were zero
Then suddenly, again, you're the latest music press hero
Are they riding the bandwagon or did they just realise
you are a lost part of their youth to idolise?
They even forgot who you were in the late '80's
But I think that you did too
It still doesn't explain this reassurgance now you're dead
A god, a master, a monster to be fed
|
||||
9. |
||||
|
An educated opinion on events of the world
Your own exclusive clique, your flag unfurled
But you don't want to stir up emotions or cause any trouble
Just a laugh in the corner in your safe, protective bubble
Anarcho-anarchist, your fashionable self-label
But it means nothing when there's no agenda on the table
Your collective mindset has no room for individual thought
'cos it's easier to talk the talk than to walk the walk
As I stand on this stage and stare across all the faces
Of passion, of spirit, conviction there are no traces
You seem to have forgotten what your voice is for
So it's left to me to ask; Why is nobody angry anymore?
So we laughed and we danced and we talked until it was dawn
with gleaming armour and sharpened swords
and when the tme for talking was over and we'd found the solution
The stage was now set for our revolution
and the bands played on draped in satire
With a political wit like this they'll surely set this town on fire
But when it all kicked off, not one of them moved
I guess they've forgotten the point they wanted to prove
|
||||
Mark Ayling UK
A lifelong drummer, Mark Ayling has branched out into the world of acoustic music. Discarding the usual folk/acoustic influences such as Bob Dylan and Woody Guthrie, Mark takes his inspiration from artists as diverse as The Jam, New Model Army, The Specials, Motorhead and Joy Division, creating a sound that has the energy of punk whilst retaining the melodic elements of the acoustic guitar. ... more
Mark Ayling recommends:
The Triad of Impairments: Part I - Imagination
by Brian Curran Acoustic
Great EP from fellow acoustic punk Brian Curran. Some good songs on here and all the money goes to a good cause.
go to album
Defending
by The Bandana Collective
Political folk punk from Brighton
go to album
Sloganeering EP
by Rumours of War
Angry punk from North East Scotland
go to albumIf you like Mark Ayling, you may also like:
Spotify is Surveillance
by Evan Greer
The Boston artist's latest punk album takes surveillance tech to task.
go to album
UNPRESIDENTED: DIY vs. Donald Trump
by Unintimidated: Wisconsin Musicians Against Scott Walker
The Wisconsin DIY punk/indie rock scene raises money for Planned Parenthood and local soup kitchens with this political compilation.
go to album
featured on Bandcamp Radio Sep 1, 2023
go to album
