With the introduction of a guitar to our band came a new ROCK sound and this ever-shoddy classic. Dale Winton was the name on everybody's lips at the time (apart from mine - they were still silently voicing the words 'Benevolence Betting'). I had literally seen Supermarket Sweep once, and Pets win Prizes for a few seconds before I wrote this song. It was enough to fuel my hatred of the man.
Not much to say about this one, except that it has exactly the same chord sequence as Dale Winton. Because so many of our songs sound the same it is very difficult working out set lists.
A pathetic attempt at satirising Margaret Thatcher. I wouldn't even mention it if I didn't enjoy making lists so much.
As my Nam phase drew to a close (mainly because the video shop ran out of relevant films), the SAS came to the fore. This jolly reworking of When The Saints Come Marching Home, explored not only the political and ethical issues surrounding a secret military force, but also the array of guns and grenades that they use.
Mr Pump wrote the first half of this sentimental song, and you can tell. Unlike other songs of ours it doesn't simply consist of a list. Everything Mr Pump writes is wholly strange - and there's never any attempt to stick to a pattern or theme. Hence that stuff about wrapping his girl up in sailor's clothes and eating raw Dutchmen's flesh. I do wish he wrote more songs.
An ode to sadomasochism set to the Beatles' song, With A Little Help From My Friends. This was a favourite of ours for a long time, and set a precedent for sick jokes about intense pain. It was recorded for the album, Kettle Fish Egg Phataang, and features what must undeniably be the worst backing vocals of all time.
I always thought this was the best of all the numerous songs I wrote about Hitler, but for some reason it never really got anywhere. Using the tune of Suzanne Vega's Luca it was based on the idea that Hitler, since mysteriously disappearing after the demise of the Third Reich, was living in the flat above me. As the story unravelled it turned out that Mussolini was living in the same block of flats, just across the corridor. Not only this, but they both frequented a local pub where various other dictators regularly met up to drink. Considering the reputation of Nazi Tea, the fact that this one never got played might not be such a bad thing.
Another phase that me and Scolar went through involved habitually substituting the last part of people's name for a 'waaar' sound. Hence Scolar. When this didn't have the desired effect we would shove a 'b' somewhere in the word. That's why our future drummer was known as John McWibwaar, and why this song was called Tory Pabwar. The reason it was such a shit song, I do not know.
Yet another Hitler-related song, this time to the tune of 'The Drunken Sailor'. Although it was intended to be a satirical critique of the Nazi regime, my enthusiasm whilst singing it made it sound more like a propaganda recruitment anthem.
Southwick is a town next to Shoreham, which where is we used to live. All the complete tossers in our school came from Southwick - the sort of people who were known then as Townies and Bazzers, and are now called Chavs. This was revenge upon them for being so crap, despite them merely being "the product of a decade of Thatcherism". This song was popular in its day, but has since retreated firmly into the archives. However, we did get to play it in front of our 6th form which contained a large number of people from Southwick.