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A Macjams summer challenge with Mark Holbrook. Due to work commitments Mark doesn't play on this version but another version will be posted on Macjams featuring Mark
punk rock folk groove celtic accordion fiddle fretless political english jigs leftwing tut tricks upon travellers knocker boys
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An eclectic collection of songs taking in most styles of music from acoustic folk to jazz, heavy rock and orchestral ballads.
TUT started in the early 1990s playing a punk folk hybrid. A politically aware band we wrote all our own material and had a good deal of critical (if not financial!) success with our first 3 CDs - "Cillataped", "The Last Fish Supper" and "Where the Skeletons Dance" - with an appearance at Glastonbury the high spot. One thing which was a constant was the need to entertain. No-one wants to be slapped round the face with a wet fish polemic so we made sure we always communicated with the audience (mind you at some gigs we could have gone round and had individual conversations although I was always disappointed the one man never brought his dog). The band lost Grahame Hobbs (singer) and Mark Knight (fiddle) in 2001 and with me the only original band member left the last CD "From another Plaice" was a real departure from the previous "in yer face" style - Much more acoustic and darker both musically and lyrically. TUT2 folded in 2003 and since then I've been writing and recording with various people and in our "virtual" band The Phobias with Richard Marris. Mostly cheerful stuff like murder and corruption. I've also been working once again with TUT's old singer Graeme Hobbs on a series of contemporary rock operas and contributing songs to a campaign to keep a London housing estate from being bulldozed by the council and replaced by luxury flats
Song Info
Charts
#1,663 in subgenre Peak #16
Charts
Peak #87
Author
Gentle/Hodges/Holbrook/Langford
Rights
Gentle/Hodges/Holbrook/Langford
Uploaded
August 24, 2010
Track Files
MP3
MP3 4.4 MB 128 kbps 4:48
Lyrics
Summer of 1944 A Norman beach, forbidding shore Run from the guns and run some more At least they knew what they were fighting for A young man died Never fired his gun A mother cried at what they'd done How could they take away her son At least she knew what they were fighting for Longest winter, longest ever Grey skies mean it's summer never Grey dawn grey seas floating waiting Winter's cold light summer hating Summer's here but winter's staying Spring is gone, autumn's delaying Summer's lease is all too short Winter's nothing to report They'll sell a bullet with your name They're saving you a cross They can take the profit And you can take the loss Jungle wars, new ways to fight Hidden traps and bamboo spikes Orange throws a deadly light And no one knew what they were fighting for A crowded train, the 8:01 standing room the seats have gone Easy meat for rucksack bombs They think they know what they're fighting for
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