Me and McDoom

PROPAGANDHI - POTEMKIN CITY LIMITS

We have no sponsors because we're not fucking posers (but we would take a ride in Dexter Holland's multi-million dollar private jet that he's christened Anarchy Airlines, which clearly honours the spirit and vision of a long history of people who have struggled and often died fighting concentrations of wealth and power. Pretty fly for an asswipe!


This record not brought to you by George Soros.

And I vote you most likely to clutter your language with so much deadwood that no amount of pruning will reveal your intensive, protracted campaign of saying nothing at all. Your daydreams of black tie affairs at Rideau Hall. Your acceptance speech. Your dramatic pause. Don’t forget to thank those bitter ex-musician cum embedded rock-journalists frantically applauding the latest artist-formerly-known-as iconoclast, giddy from the fumes of a fresh defection, moping to the maudlin beat of a hat rack rhythm section, a tacit understanding of mutual non-aggression enjoyed by every nauseating do-nothing functionary.

("Fedallah’s Hearse")

The opening track, "A Speculative Fiction," won the first annual ECHO Songwriting Prize from the Society of Composers, Authors, and Music Publishers of Canada (SOCAN). The band pledged to use the $5000 prize to make donations to the Haiti Action Network and The Welcome Place, an organization in Winnipeg (which they'd previously done volunteer work for) which helps refugees start new lives in Manitoba.


"Probably my favorite of our records, too." (Glen Lambert)

I fuckin’ love that one rock video where that fucking jack-ass mohawked millionaire prances around by far the worst sausage party on earth, where by mere chance he’s caught on film shaking hands with an incredibly diverse collection of patriotic skins. I like the message it sends: With a Rebel™ yell, Just Do Exactly What You’re Told. One million douche bags can’t be wrong?

“When did punk rock become so safe?” You’ll excuse me if I laugh in your face as I itemize your receipts and PowerPoint your balance sheets.

I hear this year’s Vans Warped Tour is “going green!” I guess they heard that money grows on trees. Hope they ship all those shitty bands overseas like they did the factories.

Music’s power to describe, compel, renew … It’s all a distant second to the offers you can’t refuse.

Anyone remember when we used to believe that music was a sacred place and not some fucking bank machine? Not something you just bought and sold? How could we have been so naïve? Well, I think when all is said and done, just cuz we were young doesn’t mean we were wrong.

And I’ll rock back and forth on this two-bit hobbyhorse ‘til she splinters and gives way. I’ll tend the flowers by her grave. And whisper her name. If anyone out there understands can I please see a show of hands just so I know I’m not insane? Ever get the feeling you been played? Well, that’s rock for sustainable capitalism and you know, we may face a scorched and lifeless earth, but they’re accountable to their shareholders first.

That’s how the world works.

("Rock For Sustainable Capitalism")

Booklet art by Sue Coe (graphicwitness.org/coe).

Superbowl patriots cheer half-time propaganda, fake titties, tooting trumpets. “FREEDOM” is in lights and is shitting itself out of Post-Hippy “Call me Sir” Paul McCartney’s multi-millionaire fucking mouth. Machine guns raised. Kegs secure. Beers held high! The (Presidential) Liar is in the house. Bono’s in the house! We’re DOOMED! FUCKING DOOMED! FUCKING DOOMED! FUCKING DOOMED! FUCKING DOOMED! FUCKING DOOMED! FUCKING DOOMED!

("Superbowl Patriot XXXVI (Enter the Mendicant)")

For Christ sakes let’s stop eating animals already! Have no fear – within days the thought of eating their bodies will seem similar to fishing a shit out of the toilet for supper. There will always be those that will try to discourage you or even try to make you feel foolish or cliché. But that never mattered to us before, did it?



Erschienen auf G7 Welcoming Committee/Fat Wreck Chords, 2005


P.S.: Ich danke Simon und Marek für die Vinylausgabe von "Potemkin City Limits". Die Platte ist sowohl musikalisch als auch textlich eines der größten und beeindruckendsten Statements harter Musik, die Band als solche eine große Inspiration und ein großer Motivator, ein Vorbild in Sachen Konsequenz, Kompromisslosigkeit und Aufrichtigkeit.