Steve White & The Protest Family’s latest LP, ‘Evidence-Based Punk Rock,’ is an album that needs to be heard by the masses. It’s rich with subgenres, political commentary, and conversations that we need to address not just as individuals but as a collective. At the end of the day, Punk was created to shock the system, and this Album did a job well done.
A – surprisingly – thoroughly enjoyable romp through the distressing state of current affairs seen through the eyes of Steve Wright [sic] as he takes us on a tour of the nearly fictional country of Put Up Shut Up Britain.
…I have to say I found the driving pulsating rhythms of the Protest Family totally refreshing with its infectious energy and joyfulness surprisingly uplifting.
I never thought I would find myself recommending a CD that reflects the daily news we all dread hearing but I am. Unequivocally!
There’s oligarchs in London, tanks in Ukraine Kremlin-funded Tories with wealthy campaigns Gangster capital was given free reign And now we’ve got Vlad The Invader Vlad The Invader
Nigel and Donald have both led the cheer Strongman nationalist, macho veneer Looking for excuses now the tanks are here For their mate Vlad The Invader Vlad The Invader
So, move the final from the Gazprom Cancel the Grand Prix and Eurovision song Cock a deaf ‘un to Saudi dropping British bombs A bit like Vlad The Invader Vlad The Invader
Hit him with a sanction, let’s see who it hurts Who’s got the gas? Who turns the heat off first? A punch in the face but who comes off worst? The worker or Vlad The Invader Vlad The Invader
We’re doing all we can is the Westminster cry Having washed all the money and turned a blind eye Now how many refugees will they deny? Created by Vlad The Invader Vlad The Invader
The bravery of protests in Pushkin Square Compare them to a Kensington billionaire Who has more in common with the bellicose bear? Vlad The Invader Vlad The Invader
We hit some real form with great shows at What’s Cookin’ and The Birds Nest when the curtain unexpectedly fell in March. We girded our loins and learned how to fake a live-but-beaming-in-from-different-locations video, which served us well for a couple of online festivals (and a massive shout out is due here for Joe Solo, Matt Hill and Pete Yen for getting WSO Isolation Festival not only off the ground but out in front of anyone else hosting online festivals, including the big corporates).
As soon as the noose loosened a little, we started the occasional socially-distanced park meeting with instruments and shot our video for the, now online, Tolpuddle Martyrs’ Festival in a little-known Walthamstow beauty spot.
Slightly less restricted again, we were able to just about stay two metres apart in Steve’s house where we played a few online gigs, either live or pre-recorded, and took advantage of the fine summer weather to enjoy each other’s company in the garden over a drink or two.
But then London went from tier two to tier three to lockdown to tier three and now tier four. Face-to-face ain’t happening but undaunted while more than a little disappointed, we thought we’d find out just what we could do together in isolation. Although The debased street music of the vulgar was all recorded at Steve’s house, this track had to be recorded in five houses on equipment ranging from mobile phones to inexpensive USB interfaces, free software and, in some cases, our employer’s laptop (shh!).
So here it is, our Christmas gift to you. We hope you like it. Keep smiling, keep fighting, and we’ll see you in the flesh soon with any luck.
It’s been four years (four years!) since the last Protest Family release but finally we’ve got something to share with you that’ll give you an idea of what we sound like these days.
It’s a 100% DIY affair, recorded mostly at my house with some percussion recorded at Andi’s but that said, we’re pretty pleased with the results.
A DIY release comes with a DIY marketing department, of course, and that’s, um, you lot. So do us a favour and tell everyone you know and if you enjoy the EP then tell ’em all again, and if anyone fancies reviewing it then please let us know; someone else’s words always carry so much more weight than ours on occasions such as these.
If you really, really want a copy but finance is an issue, get in touch privately, I’m sure that we can sort something out.
Chicken Squawk pricked my conscience but not enough to make me change. My quiet admiration for vegan friends didn’t push me over the edge. The road to “ethical” meat-eating had been taken via organic and healthy, but the route abandoned on financial grounds. In the end it was a dog, and I stopped looking the other way.
He really loves you, but he’s just a dog His love is real, as real as analogue But the pigs share complex emotional responses too And the cows to do much more than just go “moo” So before your conscience recovers Let’s kill and eat the furry little fuckers
Her name’s Daisy and she’s a sheep The lucky one the farmer decided to keep Bringing joy to the kids visiting the petting zoo Who don’t associate her with being food So before you think about her sisters and her brothers Let’s kill and eat the furry little fuckers
Or you could tread a little lighter through this world
Her name’s Frankie, his name is Smudge Grateful for the culture, the home, the love But the goats and chickens ain’t got that kind of luck They’re food not friends, their short lives kinda suck So before your dinner ups and does a runner Let’s kill and eat the furry little fucker
He likes pork chops and a steak or two Maccy D’s and KFC too Shrink-wrapped, pre-packed, juicy, meaty, fleshy food Doesn’t think about a time when it had hooves So before he starts to think about his suppers Let’s kill and eat the furry little fuckers
Or you could tread a little lighter through this world
Me: “I thought we’d have sold more advance tickets by now.”
The band: “Well, the poster you designed isn’t very good.”
Me: “You didn’t say anything at the time.”
The band: “Yes, but it’s not very good, is it.”
Now we all know that an appraisal should be a shit sandwich; say something nice at the beginning and the end, fill the middle with your criticism. Next time, perhaps we should try:
Me: “I thought we’d have sold more advance tickets by now.”
The band: “Actually ticket sales are encouraging this far from the date of the show, but the poster you designed isn’t very good.”
In front of me is a list of songs that is too long.
Some say that’s a good problem to have, that the converse is worse, but I want to tell a story of a couple embroiled in modern British life under the shadow of Brexit. I want to visit their past and future in happier and sadder songs. I want to sing a pop song about the struggle of our trans comrades. I want to laugh at debate without experts and rage at a system that burns people in their homes. I want to play punk for the animals and tell the tale of a revolution in a small Essex village that grew legs and marched on the capital. I want to mock an institution with its boot still on our necks, and genuinely laud their gardeners.
And I haven’t even started on Little Tommy and his crew.
A bill this good requires compromise, there’s only so much time and some crossing out to do. What gets left behind will get carried over, more on that later.
Steve White & The Protest Family 