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Glitter & Sweatervests (The Birth Of A Riot)
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indie dance new wave electropop electronic pop indie electronic indie electro
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indie electronic pop
A funny weapon that is the pen in the hand. Like the adage goes, "the pen is mighter than the sword", it could never be truer when pen to paper becomes a song. Peek through your record collection to find the songs that guided you through those delicate moments of despair and delight, smiles and sorrows, pain and pretense. The Mystic Underground understand this. Their tales of suburbia in the shadows of the ever forebording presence of the metropolis that is New York City without question bring the point home. Born and raised in the jungles of the New York City scene, The Mystic Underground are a combination of the introspective bedsit dramas written and played out by singer-lyricist, Vladimir Valette and the frentic backdrops conjured up by synthesizer mastermind, Benedetto Socci. Blending the sounds of new wave, post-punk, Britpop, and alternative dance and wrapping it all in an electronic bow, this is a band destined to find themselves at the forefront of the new electronic pop movement. In the words of singer, Vladimir Valette, "...we're looking to grab a foothold in the minds and hearts of listeners everywhere, we want to serve as a reminder that the term 'pop music' isn't an obscenity. We write songs with something to say and aren't afraid to push the envelope and have you singing along in the process".
Song Info
Charts
Peak #270
Peak in subgenre #60
Author
valette/socci
Rights
(c)2006 evergreen meadow music (ascap)
Uploaded
August 15, 2006
Track Files
MP3
MP3 4.3 MB 128 kbps 4:42
Lyrics
Glitter and sweatervests (the birth of a riot) sex on the porch, he shoots and scores kids 'round the way sulk with hands in their pockets a nation stares, too bored to care here in the suburbs, it's the pulse of the new breed bookish and smart, majored in art stillborn and swearing, they won't take what's on offer she's dressed in black, certainly scorned here in the clubs, it's the birth of a riot we are the scene, the new disease glitter and sweatervests are suddenly in vogue we are the scene in magazines this is the sound of your radio on fire we are the scene on tv screens glitter and sweatervests are suddenly in vogue we are the scene, the new regime pissing in streets, sleep in stained sheets no talk of peace, all we want is disruption burn down the shopping malls, we'll feast on the rich kids restless and bored, we're the bane of your household your only choice, your last resort put on your makeup, lose yourself in the dark lights nirvana's dead, pop music's dead your home sweet home, it's the death of a riot don't need to know don't need to care about the sound of noise we're making you're being warned you've been warned this time of being boring has ended don't talk of scenes, there's no scene pathetic rejects in their armchairs take back the night, bring back the sound this is the sound of your culture at war
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