Being English

The sign on the door says a nice woman
And a grumpy old man live here
Around the back a ten foot fence surrounds a garden
In which you sense that they may soon appear
By a shiny new flagpole and an even newer flag
Still flying the creases from the bag

This is our kingdom
This is our green and pleasant land
This is our place in the world
But we don’t understand
How all the money that we spend on being English
Doesn’t make being English very grand

It’s not racist, says the grumpy old man
But the basis for his racism is fear
When everything is getting worse and it’s hard to understand
Just blame them lot coming over here
With a shiny new flagpole and an even newer flag
Still flying the creases from the bag

This is our kingdom
Says the grumpy old man
This is our place in the world
But we don’t understand
How all the money that we spend on being English
Doesn’t make being English very grand

The people round here, says the nice woman
Used to be quite happy with their lot
There were factories and shops and their kids got better jobs
They worked hard for everything they got
Now they’ve got a shiny flagpole and an even newer flag
Still flying the creases from the bag

This is our kingdom
This is our green and pleasant land
This is our place in the world
And we’d share it if we can
But all the money that we spend on being English
Doesn’t make being English very grand

At Toad Hall a frog-faced fascist lights a cigarette
Pours a glass of Chablis with a grin
As he sleeps, his assets grow and grow
He owns the houses that other folk live in
He sells them shiny flagpoles and even newer flags
Still flying the creases from their bags

This is his kingdom
This is his green and pleasant land
This is his place in the world
And he fully understands
How all the money that they spend on being English
Makes his England really rather grand

This is our kingdom
This is our green and pleasant land
This is our world to share
And we need to understand
That the money that we spend on being English
Can make a world for all of us that’s grand

The Family Business

It goes back a thousand years
Of stamps and coins and souvenirs
A multitude of peers
Holidays as careers
It goes back to the point of the sword
It goes back to the point of it all
Seizing what was common before

Is the family business
It’s the family business
It’s the family business
Off with their heads
It’s the family business

Andy take the fall
You’ll topple us all
Royals without peasants
Ain’t royals at all
Your heritage won’t be linear
But your lifestyle won’t be chillier
We know paedophilia

Is the family business
It’s the family business
It’s the family business
Off with their heads
It’s the family business

Owning everything
Being the king
Wearing crowns and all that bling
Listening to that song that they all sing
Stuffing themselves like pigs
Doing god forbids
To other people’s kids

Is the family business
It’s the family business
It’s the family business
Off with their heads
It’s the family business

They weren’t sorry when you didn’t know
They weren’t sorry when you didn’t know
They weren’t sorry when you didn’t know

‘Cause it’s the family business
It’s the family business
It’s the family business
Off with their heads
It’s the family business

The Cesspit

Another day another wade in the cesspit
Another day another swim in you guessed it
Another day another wade in the cesspit
Another day in the shit

(Log on)

Embery says there’s too many blacks on TV
Pochin Reform MP says I agree
Little Tommy Tel Aviv Telegrams in
Benny’s Luton teddy with the cocaine grin

Luton, Durham, Epping, Stoke
Things go better with Nigel’s coke
Need a toke to supercharge your anti-woke
Things go better with Nigel’s coke

Another day another wade in the cesspit
Another day another swim in you guessed it
Another day another wade in the cesspit
Another day in the shit

Race is where the money wants you to go
Race is where they say the blame is—oh
Race is where the money wants you to go
The money made the racism don’t you know

‘Cos you don’t go to war with your equals
You go to war with the not-like-you
You don’t go to war with your equals
That’s why they’re feeding you on Elon’s stew

(Elon’s racist stew—fuck you)

Another day another wade in the cesspit
Another day another swim in you guessed it
Another day another wade in the cesspit
Another day in the shit

In Epping Adam says that paedos make him ill
Only the ones with brown faces still
Not the hundreds of white ones up the hill
Adam doesn’t care he’s a billionaire’s shill

Adam’s got a TV slot he needs to fill
Adam’s got a mission that he needs to fulfil
Adam doesn’t care he’s a billionaire’s shill
Adam’s making bitcoin off the red pill

Another day another wade in the cesspit
Another day another swim in you guessed it
Another day another wade in the cesspit
Another day in the shit

Flags or community you choose
A seat on the bus or Great Replacement News
You can be a racist or you can refuse
A swim in the cesspit
A wade in you guessed it
Another day in the shit

Trick Or Treat?

Weave the finest golden thread
Into a basket on your head
While spray tan panda eyes
Stare out from your disguise

Purse your lips into a bow
Like a German umlaut O
And tell them that it’s beautiful
That it’s indisputable

Knock, knock, America
Knock, knock, America
Knock, knock, America
Trick or treat?

And if that ain’t enough to scare ‘em
A masked militia might
Set upon anyone
Who isn’t quite white

Tear down, destroy and pillage
To remake in your image
Oh, the trick is sweet
Demand a Nobel treat

Knock, knock, America
Knock, knock, America
Knock, knock, America
Trick or treat?

Light your pumpkin lanterns
Stock up on your sweets
The monster’s coming
Trick or treat?

Knock, knock, America
Knock, knock, America
Knock, knock, America
Trick or treat?
Trick or treat?

Under The Influence Podcast

We’ve played a few Under The Influence shows over the years. In the 15th anniversary edition of the podcast, Nathan and Dillon discuss the early days, the future and a nice piece about us. You can catch up with it here.

America’s Broke

This land of the free, land of opportunity
This land of decree and presidential immunity
This land of MAGA suck-it-up
And everybody’s got a gun

This land of the free, this land of the brave
This land where rich folk go to misbehave
This land of tariffs
And society coming undone

This land ain’t your land, this land is their land
Where the borders are closed and dissent is banned
And the boots are on the ground
Like fascism one-oh-one

This America’s broke and I’d like to return it
They said they’d make it great, but they just tried to burn it
Down
And this Britain ain’t great either
It’s just trickle down town

Oh, say can you see by the dawn’s early light
A truck load of ICE agents coming into sight
Chasing people of colour
Wearing masks and shooting guns

Oh, say can you see by Jeffrey’s list
That power and abuse always coexist
And the land of the free
Is run by fortunate sons

This America’s broke and I’d like to return it
They said they’d make it great, but they just tried to burn it
Down
And this Britain ain’t great either
It’s just trickle down town

The star-spangled banner’s looking pretty grubby
The star-spangled banner’s looking for the money
Grifted away from sea to shining sea

The star-spangled banner’s looking pretty grim
When everything hangs on a presidential whim
To grift it away from sea to shining sea

This America’s broke and I’d like to return it
They said they’d make it great, but they just tried to burn it
Down
And this Britain ain’t great either
It’s just trickle down town
This America’s broke and I’d like to return it
They said they’d make it great, but they just tried to burn it
Down
And this Britain ain’t great either
It’s just trickle down town

Monsters

People are on the menu
People live in fear
The knives and forks are out
The monsters are here

People are on the menu
Snatch squads are at large
The knives and forks are out
When the monsters are in charge

They’re eating people
They’re eating people
They’re eating people
And making the people wanna eat people too

They’re eating people
They’re eating people
They’re eating people
And making the people wanna eat people too

Self-crowned and self- appointed
They’ll tell you they’re your choice
While all channels broadcast
His monster’s voice

Fear of the monster
Fear of the fork
Fear breeds acquiescence
And all that up the monster talk

They’re eating people
They’re eating people
They’re eating people
And making the people wanna eat people too

They’re eating people
They’re eating people
They’re eating people
And making the people wanna eat people too

Behold our loyalty they cry
Hoist up the monster flag
Eat the brown ones first they plead
Their patriotic brag

There’s monster work to fulfil
You better understand
The monster’s here by God’s will
And sat at his right hand

They’re eating people
They’re eating people
They’re eating people
And making the people wanna eat people too

They’re eating people
They’re eating people
They’re eating people
And making the people wanna eat people too

They’re gonna take the monsters’ share
And the monsters’ share keeps growing
And tell the people that it’s fair
It’s other people that are owing
They’re gonna take the monsters’ share
And the monsters’ share keeps growing
That’s why they’re eating people
‘Cos it’s people that are owing

They’re eating people
They’re eating people
They’re eating people
And making the people wanna eat people too

They’re eating people
They’re eating people
They’re eating people
And making the people wanna eat people too-oo-oo
Too-oo-oo
Too-oo-oo

(They’re Eating The) Swans

They’re eating the swans says Derek
They’re eating the swans in the Royal Park
Shut up Derek says Margaret
Stop being so daft

I heard it this morning on LBC
Where nothing is true so anything could be
In Clacton, it’s Derek’s take
That fake news is real, and real news is fake

When the MP shares a racist trope
The MP’s that kinda racist bloke
An MP who shares a racist hoax
Then covers his tracks with a just misspoke

Tropes to cover his tracks
Avoiding questions about his tax
And callers on the phone
Asking whose money paid for his Clacton home

When nothing is true, anything could be
When nothing is true, anything could be
When nothing is true, anything could be
And Nigel is the type of bloke
Who likes to share a racist trope
As you can see

Meanwhile across the pond
The stories correspond
They’re eating the dogs, they’re eating the cats
Are Donny’s version of the facts

Dropping racist bombs
Makes you wonder where Nigel gets it from
A taxi driver he says
Is where he gets his facts these days

When nothing is true, anything could be
When nothing is true, anything could be
When nothing is true, anything could be
And Nigel is the type of bloke
Who likes to share a racist trope
As you can see

They’re bringing in shariah law, says Derek
I heard it on LBC
Nigel’s taxi driver says so
And who am I to disagree

They’re eating the swans says Derek
It’s our MP’s hot take
When nothing is true in Clacton
Fake news is real and real news is fake

When nothing is true, anything could be
When nothing is true, anything could be
When nothing is true, anything could be
And Nigel is the type of bloke
Who likes to share a racist trope
As you can see

When nothing is true, anything could be
When nothing is true, anything could be
When nothing is true, anything could be…..

Flags, Rallies, Parties, People, and Stories

“Kier Starmer is a wanker,” the far-right rally chants.

“Kier Starmer is a wanker,” the counter-protesters reply. And there’s moment of unity in which this all makes a bit of sense.

I was on flag watch last week, cycling around Essex and driving to football matches, and the good news is that festooned lampposts and spraypainted mini roundabouts remain relatively rare in this part of the world, mainly centred around the flashpoints that you’d expect.

In the main, I believe, the flags, the lampposts, the roundabouts, and so on are the work of the far-right, of activists who are genuinely racist, Islamophobic and the rest, but not the work of the likes of the majority of people who attended Tommy Robinson’s demonstration in London just over a week ago, keen to declare that they’re not far-right, that they’re not all of the above, despite being at an event organised by people who are overtly just that.

What they are is scared. They’re scared, they’re angry, and they’re lashing out. Their living standards have fallen, taking their children’s prospects with them, and their future is predicted to contain nothing more than the same, while war appears closer than at any time in a generation, and nobody is listening to them. So they’re taking refuge in identity – English, white, working class – and taking umbrage with a government, with a political system, that they see as valuing everything that isn’t those things. They’re not racist towards their neighbours but they think that immigration is the biggest problem facing the country right now, they love their gay friends but they think that equality has gone too far, and even if their Englishness isn’t wrapped up in greatness and empire, it at least equates being English as being good, as being better than this.

And while confronting fascists remains a must, just telling people that they’re wrong about their identity, that they’re wrong about the impact of immigration on their lives, that they’re wrong about equality, doesn’t get us very far. Because feelings trump facts, because “the people of this country have had enough of experts”, because the lies don’t matter if they support how you feel about things.

Can music change the world? Billy Bragg gives a qualified no. Woody Guthrie and Joe Hill may well have said yes, and I might too. The best songs, the best songwriters, tell stories. Stories that show rather than tell, and if we want to ask people to reconsider their identity, their position, if we want to change how they feel, then we need to show them, not just tell them.

And so should politics.

Imagine a nationally co-ordinated, grassroots socialist party, let’s call them Your Party, who use some of their membership subscriptions to directly improve the lives of people in communities suffering at the hands of successive governments’ policies, maybe by reopening a library or a community centre or supporting a homelessness scheme that got people off the streets and into permanent accommodation. Starting small but doing something every month. Imagine them being able to say, look what we can do with the limited funds available to us now, imagine what we could do with the resources of government. Imagine them showing, not just telling.

Oh well.

There’s been a lot of telling this last week. A negotiation by mass email and tweet. (Can we please stop using X?). But it’s not their party, it’s ours; that’s the point. It’s up to us to decide if it’s over before it started or not.

And we have better stories to share.