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Born Into Pain (with Nuff X) (Remix)
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My remix of a track I did with Nuff X. EARLY DEMO VERSION
rave punk techno breakbeat prodigy moby political eels ultrasonic anarchist crass
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Take old skool rave, add indie/punk sensibilities and anarchist politics, shake vigorously, then see what happens...
Total semi-competent amateur and proud of it! There are currently 10 full albums, 5 EPs and numerous stray tracks available here... keep checking up, cos more music is appearing all the time... For album and EP artwork, visit . If you think you can stomach more of this shit, then why not check the , and wonder at my musical development (or lack thereof...) I now also have a page dedicated to I've done for other people... Finally, there's also a wee side project that I have which goes by the name ...
Song Info
Genre
Electronic • Breakbeat
Charts
Peak #376
Peak in subgenre #8
Author
Neil O'Brien and Nuff X
Rights
@nti-copyright
Uploaded
March 10, 2008
Track Files
MP3
MP3 4.8 MB • 128 kbps • 5:13
Story behind the song
A song about suffering - how it develops and how it's passed on. This track is a collaborative effort with Nuff X - he asked me to write some lyrics for a track he'd written. The result can be found on his page at www.soundclick.com/nuffx. That version will be used on his next EP I believe - I wanted to do a remix of it so I could also use it on mine.
Lyrics
Rude Corps: As the baby leaves the hospital he starts to cough and splutter On the traffic’s fumes, no longer filtered by his mother In groggy-eyed surprise he gazes at this grey new world His face crumples and he cries at his first taste of burning oil Well tough-tit son, you’re stuck with this world for some time You may not like it, but mam and dad think it’s fine Cos they don’t care about anything beyond their immediate situation Stick the dummy in his mouth for his first taste of pacification For his first five years life is relatively kind Though he’s stuck in the house and not allowed to play outside Cos they can’t afford a garden and the neighbours are strangers And everyday the newspapers warn of new and deadly dangers But the day finally comes when he’s sent off to school His life is steadily reduced to just following rules Set by his teachers, his peers, the silent majority All stamping out free will and enforcing conformity By our boy’s eighth birthday, things aren’t going well Mam and dad are always fighting and he feels like he’s in hell Cos their debts are mounting, they’re working every hour they can But it’s still not enough, their lives are in hock to the bank A few more years and the marriage is over- Whelmed by stress and money problems so their Lives became joyless and the friction unreal Leaving scars on the boy that time will never heal Nuff: His friends are few, and he feels like shit Only 10 years of age and is ready to end it He thought about it but then he stopped He paused listened to the metronome of the clock Considered his mother and how she would deal Even ending his life would stop how he feels He'd redirect his hate, to the mother fucking state Give them back the pain, retaliate Too many times have lies been his truths Rewards and disasters all under one roof Growning up with nothing but hate It's any suprize hes a fucking state I guess only time will tell If he escapes his personal hell I guess only time will tell Rude Corps: By his teenage years, the lad is living in the dark Pain and rage and guilt weighing on his heart He’s doing whatever he has to to get out of his head Desperation drives him where angels fear to tread A couple of charges for theft and another for GBH And a politician chasing power is enough to seal his fate Yes he knows what Middle-England wants - he’s not barmy Crackdown on the yobs and press them into the army So now he’s crouching in the sand in a land called Iran With a gun in his hand and some cause he doesn’t understand Some say they’re fighting for liberty, some say they’re fighting for oil Some say they’re fighting to preserve the rich’s share of the spoils Either way, everyday reveals a new horror: some inflicted, some suffered, All setting the stage for tomorrow The violence picks up speed and it scrambles the brain So the abused kick down, perpetuating the pain He tries to pretend its not real, that they aren’t really human That their tears mean nothing and they don’t feel it when they’re wounded He doesn’t want to think that they’re just like him Relieving pain through rage, just like him Unleashing the beast with a primal scream The red mist descends and leaves a trail of suffering He tries to blank it out and deny all feelings But the things he’s seen will forever haunt his dreams
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