Everyone's favourite malcontent, ahead of the game as ever, chose 2006 to anticipate the cultural turn towards weary recognition of a present as fucked-up and fatalistic as the past. The all-conquering valedictory vitriol that fuelled Common People and Cocaine Socialism is still here, controlled but uncompromised. This single could have been a slurred score for the powerless and broken, bitterly swilling the dregs of
proletarian consciousness around in a can of White Lightning at a dilapidated bus shelter. Instead, its scalpel-sharp sociological skewering is enunciated with a dignified detachment. The verses roll by with reined-in rage, stately and sardonic, queuing up for a chorus that weighs in with a queasy, unsteady stomp whose ragged vocals let the blanched despair show through.
Oh if only the rest of his solo career had lived upto the promise of this song.
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