Listen Punk, I'm Bitter 21/1/09

To a juvenile

You are an antichrist, you are an anarchist
Showing the world an inert clenched fist
Anti capitalist slogans burn
A laughable contradiction in terms
Denial of middle class parents who fund
Your portrayal of authentic vagabonds
Won’t make that haircut accessory
A believable emblem of anarchy
Your hero pariahs have flourished through awe
From consumers like you, punk rock logo adorned!
Grindcore lost business as the 90s progressed
A renaissance occurred, and ‘oh joy!’ we were blessed
With band reformations and marketing drives
Let’s talk to a hero who has become thus revived….

To a man in his 40s

You use the enemy, thus you use anarchy
Blasting the crowd with a mechanised frenzy
Thirty years on and still going strong
Having taken that time to progress writing songs
Why hide behind costume routine and cliché
When your act’s self aggrandizing ignorance plays
Such a part in this pantomime schism charade?
The internal teenager refuses to fade
The juvenile inherited all this from you
As the on-repeat record restarts all anew
The deluded rebellion against fashion styled
By Napalm Death fans queuing in single file
You hear ‘I was a punk 1978’
Said by ‘sell-outs’ failing to demonstrate
Your obstinate service to the punk rock cause
And admirable ignorance to its obvious flaws

My Judgement

I contemplate punks with a scornful envy
A misguided belief in their cause that offends me
This narrative was intended to fight
Those who conform to these stereotypes
As where was this close congenial fuse
To alleviate my youthful solitude?
Yes cultural alignment is everyone’s right
But what anti culture relieved my plight?
Before the renaissance sucker fools such as I
(as the punk rock demand was then out of its prime)
Were alone when this culture was sleeping it seemed
Then that punk coma sold to commercial esteem
And so born from a mocking disposition
Acknowledging my sad position
Bitter and jealous resentment I feel
For your belief in this circus that brands itself ‘real’