From Glasgow Southside to Southend West,
A crusader, invader of mosques and the rest,
A patriot, self-confessed,
A racist, no less, self-obsessed,
Contests
Elections.
So she can advocate, give weight
And seek a mandate for her hate.
Her will to aggravate and alienate
Does not abate.
It’s gross,
The violent intolerance that she promotes,
In red top quotes,
One hopes
Will get no votes.
[Story here.]
I ummed and ahhhed about reviewing this one as I know a couple of the guys in the band, even played in a band with one of them, it could be a bit awks if it’s a bit of a shit show, but it wasn’t, in fact I really enjoyed it.
This sell out show doubled up as Steve’s retirement do and to my surprise, if you had a pink wristband there was a free bar, happy days. I caught the back end of the support band when I arrived and was a bit concerned that the front man only had one leg, fortunately it turned out this wasn’t the case, of their music, it sounded alright to me.
The first time I saw them and was taken by how bloody good they sounded as a band.
Tonight they sounded even better.
Before the main act came on Steve had a few tributes paid to him by his fellow fire fighters and union members. It was clear to see they had a lot of respect for him but if you know Steve, this would not come as a surprise. Then came the main attraction. The last time I saw Steve and the Protest Family was their final show before lockdown in March last year at The Birds Nest in Deptford, this was also the first time I saw them and was taken by how bloody good they sounded as a band, even with a bit of a shitty PA. Tonight they sounded even better.
The set was a mix of older material, new material and a golden oldie that goes back so far I even played on one the the many versions there are out there. The opener appears to be the standard opener as they started with it last time out, the a capella Hardworking. When I first heard this I thought it was a brave one to begin with, but in context with the rest of the set it works well and goes straight into Side Of The Fox, a ditty about the pointlessness of foxhunting (well that’s what I took from it without going into too much analysis). Keeping with the fox theme, the first newbie of the night Not That Fox, yes Lawrence Fox, an easy target for Steve to work on, and quite frankly a deserving target.
Since the last time I heard this, the Duke Of York has had a bit of a rough time of it
A couple of tunes about our glorious leader BoJo were next followed by one of the highlights of the gig, and one played last time, Air Miles Andy. Since the last time I heard this, the Duke Of York has had a bit of a rough time of it, and not even because of his overall pointlessness as a member of the Royal Family, no, as it is quire clear that he is a loathsome person who should do some jail time at his mother’s pleasure but clearly never ever will, he is a Prince after all. However I digress, if I was not mistaken the lyrics to this one had been updated.
Back in the 6 Of 8 days occasionally we would play this as an encore with Steve, but it never sounded as good as this
The first real old classic, and anybody who has been on a Sunshine Coach should know this song very well, was Brisbane Road. Back in the 6 Of 8 days occasionally we would play this as an encore with Steve, but it never sounded as good as this, and with a fair few O’s fans in attendance it was no surprise that this went down well. OK, so Tamika Mkandewire dates this song a bit, but who cares, this was definitely sing along of the night, and The Orienteer is still only a quid.
Song of the night for me was up next, Supersonic. I love the backing, it works for me, don’t know if this has been recorded, but for me this sounds like it would always work better live. Before you knew it the final song came, the closer last time out as well, God Save The Queen’s Speech. Can’t argue with that as she has a bloody enormous council house and it does need mentioning. No encore was played, but no matter, perhaps next time.
I really enjoyed the show, but what took it to another level from last time was the band sounded very tight and solid. Also, a mention in dispatches for Funky Lol’s fabulous guitar sound. I loved that scratchy high sound he had and thought it worked great with the sound of the band.
So, if you like a bit of satirical song writing performed very well indeed, you could do no worse than catching SW&TPF at a venue near you, if you happen to live North and East of the river, otherwise you may have a bit of a wait. Up the O’s
Setlist:
Hardwork
Side Of The Fox
Not That Fox
Have I Got News For You
A Statue Of Boris Johnson
Air Miles Andy
No Pasaran In E17
Have A Word
Should I Be Wearing A Mask?
Brisbane Road
Supersonic
Han Solo
The Gable
God Save The Queen’s Speech
He still eats meat five days a week
And runs his car on cheese and wine,
Owns two hundred square miles of land
And several droves of rarest swine.
He’s waited on around the clock
On hand and foot and royal cock,
From royal shoe to royal sock
And royal boxer to royal jock.
He married the nation’s sweetheart
Then walked his mate’s wife up the aisle,
He was mates with Jimmy Savile
And his brother is a paedophile.
He still eats meat five days a week
And runs his car on cheese and wine,
Owns homes that thousands of others live in
And lets the rents just climb and climb.
He’s waited on around the clock
On hand and foot and royal cock,
By valets who express no shock
At some duties that most might knock.
His brother is a paedophile
His uncle even worse, it’s said.
He runs his car on cheese and wine;
Like all the rest, off with his head.
It’s all going to change down at Mel Park;
They haven’t done the double since ’72.
Now next season’s home kit will be all black
And the players will all sport beards too.
‘Cos the Taliban have bought Melchester Rovers,
The Premier League said they’re fit and proper,
The fans trust that they’re guaranteed results,
Or Roy Race’s other foot might come a cropper.
Yes, the Taliban have bought Melchester Rovers,
“It’s not a sportswash,” a spokesperson said,
“To want legitimacy on primetime TV,
You could have had Sports Direct instead.”
Now some of the crowd are on the pitch,
Celebrating the arrival of their new owners,
‘Cos the Premier League said that they’re fit and proper
And the Taliban have bought Melchester Rovers.
Today’s new word is hecatomb.
He wears these words like a costume
While answering the unasked question,
A simple politician’s deception,
A poorly executed misdirection.
“I hate to break it to you, Andrew,
That it does involve killing a lot of animals.”
The same blithe confidence
Of the grim Covid press conference.
He’ll probably say “Alas,” in a minute.
Elsewhere, Loder hails the return
Of a mythical 1950’s high street.
A collapsing supply chain he discerns
Frees a nation of shopkeepers
From the shackles of the supermarkets
And returns a simpler, and fictional, way of life.
You sense he forgets several owners
Are considerable Tory party donors.
Back to Marr, and the PM’s position:
It was simply the people’s decision.
The crisis in haulage
Never his fault
It’s the industry failing to wonder
The extent of the government’s blunder.
The message of this conference a very simple one
They were never here to fix it, just to get it done.
He’s on pump number two with a jerry can
He’s filled up the missus’ car and his work’s van
He’s not panic buying, he’s a hard-working man
A former bog roll billionaire
‘Cos it’s all going toilet rolls at Esso
And it’s all going toilet rolls at BP
“It’s bad, very bad,” says Hanna Hofer
They’re queuing down the A13
He’s on pump number two with a jerry can
And he’s got three full ones in the van
‘Cos last year’s lesson is this year’s plan
For a bog roll billionaire
And it’s all going toilet rolls at Tesco
It’s all going toilet rolls at Shell
“Carry on as normal,” says Grant Shapps
But he’s filling up his car as well
He’s on pump number two with a jerry can
Saying “It’s not Brexit, it’s Covid, man”
With the all the credibility of a sauna snowman
With the bog roll billionaires
‘Cos it’s all going toilet rolls in Westminster
It’s all going toilet rolls, upstairs
‘Cos a nation divided is a nation ruled
By bog roll billionaires
We breathe it out, plants breathe it in,
It’s the bubbles in your Tizer.
Carbon dioxide, CO2,
The uses might surprise ya,
Like suffocating pigs and chickens
Before the slaughterhouse knife,
Or modified atmosphere packaging
To make old leaves look nice.
Spaffer’s running out of gas,
Literally and metaphorically,
As Uncle Sam says “Sorry, my man,”
And we face a new fuel poverty.
Now he ain’t got the bubbles to push lager into glasses
Or the heating kind that comes from cows arses,
‘Cos the fertiliser factories get all funny
When they think they won’t make any money.
We breathe it out, plants breathe it in
It’s the bubbles in your Stella Artois
There used to be far too much of it
And campaigns to give up a touch of it
Now there ain’t even enough it,
It’s bizarre.
There’s politics for people who do politics
And politics for people who don’t do politics,
And the politics for people who don’t do politics
Hides behind the politics for people who do politics
Who say “You all need to understand the politics”
To people who say “It’s all the same, the politics”
While the politics is laughing in their face,
And ripping off their money to give it to their mates
Who are having a great time riding rockets into space.
Meanwhile, the politics for people who do politics
Gets all excited by the kerfuffle
Of a cabinet reshuffle,
While the people who don’t do politics exclaim
“It doesn’t matter they’re all the same.”
And they might just have a point.
Because while the people who do politics scream
“Oh no, Nadine”, or even Nadhim,
The politics for people who don’t do politics
Has them on their knees,
Fails to manage the disease,
Increases taxes by degrees,
Is killing off the bees,
Says daft things about cheese,
And wants to go to war with the Chinese.
So, the people who do politics
Should understand the politics for people who do politics
Puts off the people who don’t do politics
From the politics for people that don’t do politics
That’s doing them.
Nikki Minaj’s cousin’s friend’s testicles
Swole up from the vaccine she claims
And his bride-to-be glum
With the size of his plums
Shot down their wedding in flames
Nikki Minaj’s cousin’s friend’s testicles
Shining stars of her anti-vax Tweets
As they increased in size
Oversaw the demise
Of his prowess between the sheets
Nikki Minaj’s cousin’s friend’s testicles
His poor swollen Castor and Pollux
But Professor Chris
When asked about this
Said it’s all undoubtedly bollocks
You can’t take a chicken by surprise, James
You can’t take a chicken by surprise
Nick don’t care how it dies
Nick just likes chicken pies
And you can’t take a chicken by surprise
You can’t eat your burger in peace, James
You can’t eat your burger in peace
Although Nick loves the grease
Of the recently deceased
You can’t eat your burger in peace
You can’t take your mother to the vets, Ed
You can’t take your mother to the vets
They might be great with pets
But the BMA regrets
That you can’t take your mother to the vets
You can’t take a chicken by surprise, James
You can’t take a chicken by surprise
You might deny their demise
As food supply compromise
But you can’t take a chicken by surprise
If you were listening to LBC today, you may have heard James O’Brien’s, admittedly unfinished, debate about the relative sentience of cows and chickens as justification for the various methods of their slaughter for food. Earlier, Nick Ferrari was comfortable not really caring how the chicken died so long as he could eat it.
Later on, the conversation in Eddie Mair’s show turned to assisted dying with a caller bemoaning that we treat terminally ill humans worse than we treat their pets.
Maybe someone should tell the chickens.
Steve White & The Protest Family 