I'm still a FLIP YOUR WIG lad. humanizingthevacuum.wordpress.com/2018/09/21/r...

Farage calls critics “left wing extremists.” Trump calls Democrats “Radical left wing lunatics and the enemy within.” Same hymn, different parish. They need an enemy to sell themselves as saviour. The real fear isn’t violence it’s an organised, coherent left that remembers how to speak.

Victoria Park, April ’78. Rock Against Racism. The Clash, Steel Pulse, X-Ray Spex, Tom Robinson Band, Buzzcocks. Eighty thousand marched from Trafalgar Square to say no to the National Front. No brands. No sponsors. Genuine question who from today’s scene could’ve stood on that stage?

Sonic Youth — “Kool Thing” (1990). Icy bass, guitars that flirt with chaos. Kim’s voice winding around irony like barbed wire. Not a song, a dare.

The Fall — Totally Wired (1980). You don’t have to be weird to be wired. But it bloody helps. Smith didn’t perform, he twitched truth into rhythm. Sounds like caffeine arguing with God.

Magazine — Shot By Both Sides (live ’79). Devoto sneers like he’s grading the audience. McGeoch turns the guitar into a nervous breakdown. Too clever for punk, too twitchy for pop

Mudhoney — Good Enough (1991). Jangle building to a static fuzz, like frustration learning to sing. Still rough, still righteous. Bloody cracking.

Birdland — Hollow Heart (1989). Birmingham’s answer to The Stooges, or so the papers said. Touted one minute, torn down the next. Burned bright, burned out, left a cracking single behind. Still sounds like promise getting punched in the mouth.

Flag alert. Neville’s no Orwell but he’s not daft. Prod the cloth and they call you a traitor. They’ll call him a wrong un, for stating the bleeding obvious Wave it long enough, it means shut yer gob. Not pride , just noise for gobshites.

So the enemy is now anyone with a bookshelf. Blames education, fears punctuation. Wants Britain thick, loud and grateful.

Funny, innit. Two ex-footballers say something half decent about people and the right wing panic Lineker talks refugees, Neville talks decency, and suddenly it’s war on “woke pundits.” They’re terrified of anyone with a platform who can string a sentence together without blaming immigrants.

Buzzcocks. Boredom (1977). Still sharper than most of what passes for rebellion. Two chords, one truth, the future got boring faster than they did.

Bowie . Moonage Daydream (live, ’73). Whole stage looks like it’s running on ego and eyeliner. Mad, messy, brilliant. Like Britain before the hangover.

They ask why Thatcher still looms. Because we never scraped her off our shoes. Every lot since just polished the stain and called it progress.

Desmond wants £1.3 billion for losing. Fuckers made a fortune floggin’ misery, now havin’ a sulk in Saudi. Built his empire on tits and telly, still reckon’s he’s the victim. We’re all skint, but the bastards want tipping.

Parallel universe? Nah, Same one, just the lights flickering They’ll cheer a car crash if it’s waving a flag. Badenoch talks bollocks in full HD and they call it vision.

Water bills up again. Raw sewage in the rivers, bonuses in the boardroom. We’re paying extra to swim in our own mistakes.

Turdsday it is. The nation’s true religion. Admin, banking, and family diplomacy. Every flag’s a warning sign. Hanging there like the laundry of decline.

The Police. Synchronicity II (1983). Middle management apocalypse set to a hi hat. Office stress, suburban despair, and Sting shouting like he’s late for enlightenment. Still bangs, still bleak.

Soft Cell — Say Hello, Wave Goodbye (1981). Drama in eyeliner form. Two blokes making heartbreak sound like a cabaret exit. Still hurts, still perfect.

Buzzcocks “Harmony in My Head. 1979” Sounds like a mind in discord, singing back at itself. Let the noise sharpen your hearing.

Cocteau Twins. Heaven or Las Vegas. Sounds like angels on helium arguing in a lift. Dream-pop for people who can’t face daylight. Still glorious, still baffling.

Bauhaus doing Bowie, 1982. Shot under Camden Lock , tunnels, feedback, eyeliner. Ziggy through a hangover, all grandeur, no gloss. They didn’t cover him, they exhumed him.

Re my previous post, yeah, that chair. The Maxell ad. If you know, you know. Everyone else? That’s what goths did before ring lights.

Peter Murphy. Cuts You Up. Beautiful melodrama from a man who made a career out of sitting in a leather chair. Still, it bleeds better than most.

Kate Bush, Army Dreamers. Pretty tune about dead kids.

Bronski Beat said more truth in falsetto than most manage sober.

They’re on about keeping pubs open later. Can’t see the point. The 80s and 90s crowd are ready for bed by ten, necks creaking, feet done in. The young ones don’t even drink , they just film the pint and go home. Different century, same bad ideas.

World’s gone daft and half burnt. Everyone’s arguing with the weather. Anyway, here’s Hüsker Dü. Louder than reason, shorter than hope.

Starmer says Jenrick’s not serious. He’s serious about one thing, the till. They’ve done the maths racism pays. If not that, it’s just racism. Either way, the bill lands on us.

Stiff Little Fingers “Bits of Kids.” Still rattles like a bin in a gale. A song about growing up angry and staying there. Same riff, different decade. The country never did tidy its room.

Britain’s flirting with the far right again. Waving flags for people who’d sell the poles. Thinks it’s rebellion. It’s just goose ,stepping with better branding.

Leatherface. “Baked Potato.” Sounds like someone wired guilt to a generator. Three chords, one grudge. Heartbreak in work boots. Proper music no filter, no feelings, just fumes.

Julian Cope “Safesurfer.” Wired, weird, and glorious. Idiot son of Donkey Kong. You wouldn’t trust him with a plug, but you’d still listen.

Jenrick visits Birmingham, forgets it’s not the 1950s. “No white faces,” he moans, like diversity nicked his wallet. Toxic nationalism in a cheap suit, shouting at reality for moving on.

“ Kennedy .” The Wedding Present doing their usual, guitars like scaffolding collapsing in 4/4. A love song for people who flinch at daylight. If misery had manners, it’d sound like this. youtu.be/PuNYyNqCSSg?...

Jenrick squints at Birmingham like he’s spotted aliens in a chippy. Badenoch nods , calls it “factual.” Yeah. Facts from the dark ages.

"Ain’t no funk on the mothership for Zelensky. Trump & JD Vance rolling out the red carpet for Putin while throwing Ukraine out the airlock. Betrayal so deep even George Clinton couldn’t funkify it. America’s ship got hijacked—who’s really the Star Child here?" Mothership Connection (Star Child)

Roberta Flack (1937–2025) I won’t be the first or last to post her songs today, but I’m playing Compared to What. If you’ve heard it, you know. If you haven’t, you really should. A voice, a message, a legacy. #RobertaFlack #ComparedToWhat

They told you to trust them. They told you they had your back. But when the deal went down, they left you out in the cold. Trump rolls out the red carpet for Putin while pulling the rug from under Ukraine and NATO. Ain’t no loyalty in a rigged game. #Ukraine #NATO #Putin #Betrayal #PublicEnemy

Measles makin’ a comeback like a bad B-side—West Texas lightin’ up with 48 cases, most unvaxxed. Science gave us the cure, but fear sold folks a lie. Now kids pay the price. Ain’t no funk in a hospital bed—when will we wake up? #MeaslesOutbreak #WestTexas #VaccinesSave #SoulOfScience

They’re not even trying to hide it anymore. JD Vance just broke the firewall and met with Germany’s far-right AfD leader. The Trump admin is openly backing Europe’s most toxic parties while snubbing key allies. The mask is off. History warns us—are we listening? #SteelPulse #KuKluxKlan #Facists

JD Vance stormed into Munich like a wrecking ball, not to build bridges but to burn ‘em down. No unity, no diplomacy—just fire and fury against Europe’s leaders. Russia’s smirking, America’s alliances are trembling, and history’s whispering, "We’ve seen this before..." #War #SlippingIntoDarkness

Superbad Newswire: Appeasement, Track on Repeat "Trump hands Putin a deal, with Ukraine locked outside the room. History’s seen this before—when the powerful carve up nations in the name of ‘peace,’ the next war is already set in motion. Munich ‘38 all over again, but will the world hit rewind.

Superbad Newswire: Trump’s Nuclear Bargain "Trump talking big on cutting nukes with Russia & China—but history’s seen this dance before. Funkateers, when the world teeters on the edge, do we trust the dealer or brace for the fall?" #Trump #Russia #China #Funkadelic #MaggotBrain #PowerMoves

Superbad Newswire: Border Brawls & GOP Showdowns "Immigration raids ramp up, GOP battles itself over border funding, and Trump’s losing patience. Funkateers, when the fight ain’t just with the enemy but inside the house, who walks away standing?" #Deportation #GOP #LupeFiasco #WordsINeverSaid

Superbad Newswire: Musk’s DOJ Vanishing Act "Federal probes into Musk’s empire? Gone. Tesla, SpaceX, X—free to roam. Funkateers, when the billionaires rewrite the rules, justice ain't blind—it’s just looking the other way." #Musk #DOJ #PowerPlay #Corruption #BlackStar #ThievesInTheNight

Superbad Newswire: Gaza Gambit Gets Wild "Trump flip-flops on Gaza: First, he wants to buy it. Now, he says America’s just gonna take it. Funkateers, when the plan changes with the wind, whose future gets blown away?" #Trump #Gaza #PowerPlay #SuperbadNewswire #Politics #MosDef #Mathematics

Superbad Newswire: Judges Push Back, Trump Claps Back "Trump ain’t happy with judges blocking his moves—hinting they might be the next ‘problem’ to solve. Funkateers, when justice ain’t untouchable, what’s left to hold the line?" #Trump #Judges #Justice #TheRoots #Courts #LegalBattle #Democracy

Superbad Newswire: Musk Runs the Show "Trump sits tight while Musk holds court in the Oval, cracking jokes, basking in the limelight. Funkateers, when the billionaire babysits the president, who’s really calling the shots?" #ThePeople #Common #PowerPlay #Politics #OvalOffice #WhoRunsIt