The Latest Trend – 9th January 1986

Fashionable clothes for trendy whores
Big business money-making clothes stores
Hit the right button, out comes a magazine
To keep you up to date on the fashion scene

Is this the right colour? No, it’s the wrong shade
Business and profit’s the way of the world
Can it and will it ever be cured
While people’s suffering is still ignored?

“Have you got a shirt that’s made from tweed?
A new fur coat is what I really need
To go with the underpants I’ve already bought
I don’t like your long-johns, they’re much too short”

You live – and see – people’s – agony
But is this – the right shade – of – burgundy?

Is this the right colour? No, it’s the wrong shade
Business and profit’s the way of the world

Life ruled by fashion and not thinking
Or common sense, a wardrobe full of
Clothes that have only been worn once
Cos the following week they’re out of date

The only reason for existence, being seen
As the necessity to impress other people
And stay ahead in fashion

Emotion and sanity reduced to scant levels
Due to incessant worry of not being able
To better the superficial and cosmetic
Standards set by equally narrow-minded
Trendy fashionable individuals

I refuse to feel guilt, embarrassment
Or inferiority just because my clothes
Aren’t baggy enough or the wrong
Shade of burgundy

But that’s the way of the world

18th Apr 2025 – Writing this out now, I can guess that I was very inspired by Jello Biafra and the Dead Kennedys

Double-O-Egg – 2nd December 1985

My parents scream, but I never listen
Just get into those lysergic emanations
They get me up when I’m feeling down
Now the dog’s whining with the shock of sound
The turntables whizzing, it’s starting to fry
All the plants in the garden are starting to die
The law came round to inspect our home
We got barbed wire fences, we’re a danger zone

Turn on the vibes, I love that sound
I just I scream I leap around
You’re a rock ‘n’ roll junkie the doctor confessed
Certified insane, you should be under arrest

Hey man, can’t stop that buzzing in my head
The police tell me our neighbours are dead
My ears are bleeding as I stamp on the floor
My mum’s OD’d, she couldn’t take any more
The first track’s finished, the next has begun
Never knew music could be such fun
People outside run past, hands to their ears
Dad’s downstairs and he’s close to tears