Have you heard of them they’re so acclaimed But not even I can remember their name They’re every single critic’s favorite band But if they ever deviate from the norm Then they will unleash an ugly storm Of horrible nasty people Who only listen to what’s in the flannel’s hands

Walking past the graffiti walls Towards a building with some crack in its halls Waiting in a line just to see All the vendors there are going to be Walking through the door I go in I spy Zappa, Parker, Cooper and Dylan I grab a stack of wax and then I walk on And I hear from behind me a song Hey hey hey, where do you think you’re going? Hey hey hey, whose money are you blowing? Hey hey hey, what is it you’re going through Hey hey hey, you know what it is I want from you You’ve got everything you want so what do you want from me You’ve got everything you want so when are going to see? After browsing some I feel ill I ran towards the restroom it was a thrill My insides left me lying there cold As the rest of the building grew old Feeling faint I go browse again Seeing Steely Dan, Rockpile, King Crimson I buy some records then I step outside And as the light left my eyes I heard them cry Hey hey hey, where do you think you’re going? Hey hey hey, whose money are you blowing? Hey hey hey, what is it you’re going through Hey hey hey, you know what it is I want from you You’ve got everything you want so what do you want from me You’ve got everything you want so when are going to see? Pub rock, punk rock, jazz fusion and prog rock Shoegaze, britpop, madchester and art rock Genres written on little signs and doorways They all spin through my mind I’m in a daze On the ride home things were so strange I looked around and everything had just changed The car was much farther than before And I was laying there flat on the floor Next to me lay discs in a stack They’d been paid for and were not going back I thought to myself maybe I’m dead As these words repeated endlessly in my head Hey hey hey, where do you think you’re going? Hey hey hey, whose money are you blowing? Hey hey hey, what is it you’re going through Hey hey hey, you know what it is I want from you You’ve got everything you want so what do you want from me You’ve got everything you want so when are going to see? Hey hey hey

Holy lord it’s time to open up the doors Time to let them hear your name Time to play in a band that never tours Only plays short sets on Sunday Never get to play more than just four chords And the bass player’s never played bass But she gets taught by our frontman on Sunday morn And we play til we see your face Holy lord I can’t go out on that stage Yes I’m scared of actual crowds Cuz if I mess up than they’ll judge for days So if I go I won’t play loud I can’t be the real me so I just facade I can’t please a crowd but you’re easy to please, God So I go back to that small stage and my head I nod Til we play on Sunday once again Amen

I started in a manufactured band Now nobody takes me seriously I play guitar and I write my songs Yet still nobody wants to hear me Weren’t you in that boy band That conquered the world Weren’t you in that fake band That only appealed to preteen girls So now I’m a well respected man And I write songs beloved by many But I was a puppet on strings once And you hate me so, even now when I’m free

Pretty Percy’s got the world in the palm of his hand And he’s been in so many bands Even though I’m just a country fan I’ll listen to his jazz cuz he’s a pretty man When I listen to that music It really does nothing for me But I’ll have to try my best to love it Cuz I’d do anything for Pretty Percy You may think that you read it somewhere in a book That people only love an artist for his looks But I assure you, you will see That that don’t apply to girls like me And if you wait then there will be Times I talk about his songs occasionally Outside how much I talk about him And the way he melts my heart with that toothy grin It’s really an enormous shame That it’s only ugly faces in the hall of fame And now I don’t listen to country And the only one to thank for that is Pretty Percy

WRITTEN BY PAUL DRAPER I'm writing these words like the fool that I am Trying to say something good like the person But it's all just a sham 'cause the writer I am not Could say anything, you'd believe them Just your atypical boy-girl-girl-boy androgynous Play on a publican's decoy Cuz I had to drop out cuz the art school was sad and If you believe all of that you're a bigger fool than me The lyrics aren't supposed to mean that much They're just a vehicle for a lovely voice They aren't supposed to mean that much The lyrics aren't supposed to mean that much They're just a vehicle for a lovely voice They aren't supposed to mean that much Lyrics mean nothing, don't right any wrongs In fact I'm not having them on this

At Mr. Radford’s Records every day’s a lovely day We’ll discover you on Instagram, then we’ll make you sign your life away If you really want to be the biggest star that you can be Then we’ll sign you into slavery with a contract you won’t read At Mr. Radford’s records You really have no rights Cuz we’ll pressure you to repeat yourself The minute you reach your heights If you ever even make so much as a tiny little mistake Then we label you a jester and promote you as a pisstake You can think you’re independent As creative as can be But at the end of the day you’re just another face in a vast commercial sea You can think you’re going steady, you can think you have such wealth But in reality you’re losing your soul and your head for things you can do yourself And the minute that you get tired of our endless intrusive greed Then you find out that you still owe us ten albums, and we keep the royalties If he asks you will you join my label You better say no Cuz he’ll make you die an early death from playing endless shows And then after you die we’ll milk your death, we’ll make the public cry And suddenly you’re more famous for dying than for anything you did while you were alive At Mr. Radford’s Records At Mr. Radford’s Records At Mr. Radford’s Records, you’re just supply

As I look all around on this old broken ground I see records for endless miles It’s a dream of a thousand smiles So I look through them all for a while So I grab my album and I take it on home And I drop the needle on the platter Someone asks why do you think this matters As I press my ears close to the speakers Cuz we live in a world where sound’s not valued People only care about profit So do you think I’ll bend over backwards and choose A reissued album that sounds like shit Then you hound me all day you have so much to say You don’t know the hell that you put me through Cuz though it may not sound like it to you It’s just another reissue Then comes a man from the sea with an OG copy And he says it’s four hundred dollars And I think to myself it could be worse So I pay him in full then I curse Cuz the album was changed all the tracks rearranged When they reissued it in ‘09 And they removed a favorite track of mine So that’s why I did research online So I wait for the album to arrive from Poland And I think that I’ll be waiting a while It took them a month and a half just to send Ridiculous for just one piece of vinyl Then the package is here after what felt like a year I can hardly contain my joy It’s as if once again I’m a boy On Christmas awaiting a toy I’m excited beyond the wildest blue Even more excited than when I met The Who I open the package I can’t believe it’s true It’s just another reissue

Nathan Crystal How are you today? I’ve seen you here so many times But you never have much to say I always see you when I’m browsing through the ones I love But I never hear you praised by the ones who sit above I may have heard you speak one time from the mouth of some old apes Yet I never even listened to a single one of your tapes I don’t think I could ever name a single thing you’ve done But you’re always here intruding when I look for my special ones Oh Nathan Crystal I must ask you one thing Why the fuck do I see you everywhere when I go crate digging?

WRITTEN BY GRAHAM GOULDMAN AND ERIC STEWART I bought a flat Diminished responsibility You're d ninth person to see To b suspended in a seven Major catastrophe It's a minor point but g Augmented by the sharpness of your C what I'm going through A to b with you In a flat by the sea

So your favorite album came out last week It’s got all the songs that you crave and seek And your friends all agree that it’s really great But that love would soon turn to hate Thanks to people who’ve never written songs Yet they thinks they know what’s right and wrong And they don’t even like the genre of The album that they’re shitting on And if you work at Pitchfork For five to seven years You can gain the power to rob people Of their free thinking ears When critics strike the world changes What once was loved is torn apart, and that’s just the way it is Why must those with no voice of their own Decide the status quo But at the end of it all it really is No fault of their own Don’t you know?

As I’m sitting here in the year 2016 I look around at all the bands I see You say they’re progressive and original But they don’t seem that way to me Mellotron and aggressive rhymes Lengthy songs that never end It’s just fine Came out in 93 but it sounds like 69 Then a guitar solo that’s in free time So when the day is over If you never change, never develop You’ll be praised by some, but the fact remains You’re regressive

Rise up rise up Rise up the prices Rise up rise up Rise up the prices Rise up rise up Rise up the prices We’re in the two thousand twenties And records can be found with much ease I see thousands of crates to be dug Cuz nostalgia is a powerful drug Rise up rise up Rise up the prices CDs are being outsold By discs that are fashionably old And it’s in this fad that I see A monetary opportunity So Rise up rise up Rise up the prices Go and make that single a double Rise up rise up Rise up the prices Make the sleeves so easy to crumble Rise up rise up Rise up the prices The records only last a while Rise up rise up Rise up the prices They’re pretty much just CD on vinyl And the buyers get mad but it doesn’t matter to me Cuz they’ll buy it all still, they’ve already sunk into the sea Rise up!

Mick Jagger appears. He asks if you could start him up. You oblige. Time waits for no one as he begins to turn and turn, as he begins to let it loose. There’s not a soul survivor as the dead flowers all begin to rebloom. You shake your hips as he yells and yells, as the dice tumble and you hear the music. That sweet music telling you that can’t always get what you want and to never leave someone high and dry. As you think of going home, you sit back. You shine a light as one last thought enters your head...

A songwriter like no other A real singing soul brother His music was all the rage But he died at such a young age It seems when he’d sing his songs The world would hold no wrongs The voice of a generation A voice that hated hating For many years his songs had been stifled from left to right And then he was snuffed out before he got a chance to hit his stride Goodbye my soul brother Though I never knew you at all Perhaps if you were still around There’d be no hatred or walls Goodbye my soul brother You pushed for change to come And I hope that in the coming years That’s how our world will be run

WRITTEN BY TOM EVANS Waiting for the phone to tell me you and I are through And I'm not alone, I guess that everybody wants it, too You got no feeling, you've been dealing all the wrongs Your lies are stealing Lord, I think you should be gone Hey, Mr. Manager You're messing up my life Hey, Mr. Manager Don't think I need that kind of strife It's the same old story, we all know it to the end But without your boring glory, we could live again You got no feeling, you've been dealing all the wrongs Your lies are stealing God, I think you should be gone Hey, Mr. Manager You're messing up my life Hey, Mr. Manager Don't think I need that kind of strife Laying down these lines This song's especially for you It may be simple But in some ways, so are you Hey, Mr. Manager You're messing up my life Hey, Mr. Manager Don't think I need that kind of, that kind of, that kind of strife Waiting for the phone to tell me You and I are through

I’ve got album fever it’s a deadly disease And I’m drowning in vinyl up to my knees And I’m spending my money that I really should be saving And when I get back home my girl’s gonna be angry and raving I’ve bought this album over 22 times But I’m buying it again cuz it ain’t a crime And this pressing is rare since it lacks songwriting credits I’ll buy it for fifty bucks and then I’ll brag about it on reddit Hit it jimmy! I found albums by The Who, Motley Crüe, The Guess Who, Soft Shoe, Silver Jews and MF Doom I found albums by the Oh Sees, 10cc, Bee Gees, Alabama 3, Ocean Colour Scene, Don McClean Albums by Sparks, Heart, Van Dyke Parks and even an album by the choir at Walmart And that’s not all I found even more and I won’t even bother trying to rhyme them anymore I found albums by The Rolling Stones, Echobelly, James, Psychedelic Furs, Jimmy Webb and World Party I found albums by The Residents, Madonna, Wishbone Ash, Warren Zevon, Wannadies, Portishead and Viva Brother Albums by Supertramp, Unkle, Emitt Rhodes, Electric Soft Parade, Black Grape and Paris Angels No Doubt New Order Patrick Duff Razorlight And that’s all My bank account might as well be empty!

~The Cold Hands of Copyright~ Little Davey woke up in the morning And he started to write a song And in that song he put a snippet of another Doesn’t he know that that’s wrong? Because for a song to be a song it must sound unique Every single element new And if it’s not that way that’s a serious problem How sad would you be if it was you? Even if it’s just a tiny portion That you use as a part of your whole Why do you have to steal from others’ hard work? It’s so easy to write an original And if you make something unique out of it that’s even worse Because now you’ve stolen their fame It doesn’t matter if you’re small because oh it still hurts So we’ll force you to bill it as their name So if you do that make sure that you open your ears Cuz this is a lesson through and through Just like it’s been for the past 30 years The cold hands of Copyright will get you Ignore what musicians themselves have to say Like Chumbawamba or the Residents They just want to steal music and with it get away It doesn’t matter if the artist takes no offense Cuz we have our rules in place for a specific purpose All music must be brand new Sure we give a pass to those who rewrite old blues songs Because that’s not as bad as you So before we have to repeat ourselves until we’re bored To drill it in your skull and make it break through Just make songs that sound like nothing else in the world Or the cold hands of Copyright will get you ~Stop Being Human~ So since you can’t make music by sampling other people’s songs, you only have one way that you can legally express yourself musically. You have to write and perform your own songs! And it’s easy, right? Well...... So you want to make music if able You want to be a musician do you? But you’re too poor to find yourself a label Too poor to find someone to give you your due You spent all your money recording your songs But nobody lends you their ear So you go on the web and you search for so long Til you a find a site who’s willing to hear They say that it’s free that there’s no cost at all They just want to support indie artists So you send them your songs and you wait for their call Then in your email you get a list Of everything that they need you need to fix Because they can’t accept what you sent They say that all of your songs sound like shit Supposedly that’s with no ill intent They say that this wasn’t their choice to make It’s the stores that have such high standards But if you look through the stores then maybe you’ll wake And realize the untruth of those words Because lo fi music is just the best There’s even a Spotify playlist for it! There’s Daniel Johnston, Robert Pollard, Stephen Jones, even Kanye West And their music also sounds like shit! So if you want your songs on those fancy apps Then you’ll have to make it sound professional And you’ll have to change your album cover too, cuz it looks like crap Please make sure it’s generic with no soul So you spend more money re-recording your songs And your album cover matches our quotas And now your album’s out and it didn’t take long So you shouldn’t be mad and it’s because It was free! It was free! So why are you yelling at me? It was free! It was free! That’s the best thing it could ever be So why are crying about artistic freedom Because you at least had some of that You shouldn’t release your music as is that’s dumb Perfectionism it where it’s at! Stop being human ~Digital Must Die~ In 2010 The world it changed forever The CDs went away Cuz files are so much better You’ll never have to buy An entire album again You can just download hit singles Or the favorites of your friends You’ll never have to listen to songs that aren’t worth the risk Cuz if a song was good why would they put it towards the end of the disc? Oh happy day We never have to waste our money We just have to buy our favorites All the rest are history Oh happy day I’m still supporting my heroes Cuz they get a portion of the price But I don’t know where the rest goes Then 3 years down the line Came a service named Spotify So the files died as well Cuz the price wasn’t too high You could make your own playlists Say goodbye to artistic visions Any song you want is free to hear You can throw the rest in trash bins You never have to pay for every song you want to own Cuz you get them all and you pay each month as you listen on your phone Oh happy day We never have to waste our money We just pay a monthly fee Why buy when music’s free Oh happy day I’m paying for a service And it’s cheaper than before But does it go to the artist? If an artist that I want to hear has no music online Then surely they are terrible that’s the only reason why Suddenly my favorite’s gone He’s up and called it quits His music’s taken off of the web He says there’s just no money in this And I just don’t understand Does he know how much we streamed his songs? Surely he got paid for all of that And if not then that’s just wrong Though streaming has its benefits there’s still much hurt to see So perhaps it’s time to stand up tall and push for equality Today is the day We’re gonna rise against their lies If we want the music world to change Then digital must die Cuz we live in an age Ruled by faceless bandits Who decide what’s all the rage And siphon all the profits But perhaps this song is useless Cuz the world ever changes And five to ten years on from now New problems will exist

Listenin’ to your heavy rock n roll And digging that rhythm and blues Then you walk down the street and you hear a song That sounds like it’s hip with the youth And you hate it so and you moan and groan That the sixties were the golden age And that everyone then was so original They had real fire and rage You say everything’s different now That music’s not what it used to be Nobody experiments or writes new songs Oh I wish that you could see That the innovation that you’re looking for is not with the bands in your heart The innovation that you want’s in front of your eyes Just look at the charts

There’s nothing wrong with pop music please listen to what I say There’s nothing wrong with it at all even in our modern day There’s nothing wrong with pop music it’s the genre of my songs And if you ever thought different well baby you were wrong There’s nothing wrong with pop music it’s the best thing you’ll ever hear Even if you hate it just gets stuck ringing in your ear Love may make the world go round but music moves its feet You can hear it all around and you’re moving to the beat There’s nothing wrong with pop music do you even know what it is It’s enjoyed by everyone, not just Middle aged women and kids There’s a reason I sing its praises, the world needs more of it That’s because it’s so infectious, even if it sounds like shit There’s nothing wrong with pop music it can take so many forms You can make it experimental you don’t even need to conform I said there’s nothing wrong with pop music the only thing wrong is with you Because you don’t realize that the music you love is really pop music too Hit it!

WRITTEN BY JAMES MORRISON Woke up this morning Went back to sleep

As I start my car I look all around me I see all the notices that flash and beep But one catches my eye that I don’t see today One that often helps me on my way My headlights no longer work at all They’re no longer at my beck and call And suddenly a wave of exhaustion arrived Will I make it home or will I forever drive? OH NO My life’s flashing before my eyes JUST KEEP ON DRIVING And I have no idea if I’ll survive JUST KEEP ON DRIVING In my many years I never thought I’d be in this situation And if I don’t act real fast than I may meet him in that old sky station LOOK HERE My body slumps and my car speeds ahead JUST KEEP ON DRIVING If something crosses my path soon I’ll be dead JUST KEEP ON DRIVING

~The Work Verse~ WRITTEN BY GINO VANNELLI I've been slavin' my mind just to try to find a way out And it's been on my brain just to put the blame on you I've gotta find a way just to make my day a useful one Cause I'm a front row ticket to a nothin' show I've got one free pass just to let me know Hey babe it's a stagnant time But it takes more than that to hang my coat and hat and sleep I've gotta sweat once more till my bones feel sore I tell you why Cause I'm a front row ticket to a nothin' show I've gotta crash this prison and not let go My heart's on a sun cloud screamin' for progress 'Cause I want Work I'll keep slavin' my mind just to try to find some kind of light I'm gonna burn this damn ticket and think of tomorrow And I won't live this long life in stagnation no more My heart's on a sun cloud screamin' for progress Cause I'm a man And man's gotta work ~Funeral Procession~ WRITTEN BY OWEN RADFORD (instrumental)