S​/​T LP

by The Afternoon Gentlemen

/
  • Streaming + Download

    Includes high-quality download in MP3, FLAC and more. Paying supporters also get unlimited streaming via the free Bandcamp app.

      name your price

     

1.
01:19
2.
01:05
3.
00:56
4.
5.
6.
00:32
7.
00:55
8.
00:46
9.
01:08
10.
01:54
11.
00:58
12.
13.
14.
00:38
15.
00:45
16.

about

500 copies on 180g black vinyl, full colour gatefold sleeve, printed inner sleeve.

credits

released May 27, 2015

Recorded by Rob Hobson at Silent City, Leeds www.silent-city.co.uk
Artwork by Richard Storrow.

AVAILABLE NOW:
UK - deadheroeslabel dot bigcartel dot com
Mainland Europe - bonesbrigaderecords dot bigcartel dot com
From the band - theafternoongentlemen dot bigcartel dot com

tags

license

all rights reserved
Track Name: The Outsider
Head full of bees and all I want is fast,
Waiting for the count-in, going to point to the blasts,
First band is boring, better check the next,
Head back outside and have a joogle on the bench,
Eight cans down, gone straight to my head,
Bag full of cider and a deep sense of dread,
Talking shit, one more cig,
Better get another pint,
No time left!
Stumble inside and I missed the fucking show,
No bands in sight, everyone has gone home,
Try to blag it at the bar but time has been called,
Sometimes in life you get what you deserve…
Won’t go far.
Outsider.
Track Name: Down and Out
Leather skin, eyes like pits,
All day long upon the floor he sits,
Empty cup clutched in his grubby mitts,
Treated like a piece of human shit,
Inhaling dust from feet of passers-by,
No-one deigns to look him in the eye.
Getting hassled and moved on by the pigs,
Criminalised for trying to blag cigs,
The law instructs us not to give -
‘Begging is a crime’
You don’t deserve to live you fuck up…
He just needs your cash, not sympathy.
Self-same fate could befall you or me.
Track Name: Swirl Night
Wash out your mind - swirl night, swirl night,
Standing in lines - swirl night, swirl night,
Glug til you’re blind - swirl night, swirl night,
You call this a good time?
Everyone’s at it - it’s all around,
The fastest way to escape this town…
Swirl night, swirl night - wash out your mind,
Swirl night, swirl night - shooters a pound,
Line up the poison and race to get it down.
The spirits are strong but the flesh is weak,
You worked for 5 days just to throw up in the street,
Escape from yourself, descend the well,
Wake up sweating, hearing the last orders bell…
We swirl together.
When you stumble into the road again,
I hope they don’t hit the brakes.
The spirits are strong but the flesh is weak,
You bought a mixed grill, now it’s all over your feet,
100 quid trou stained all down the side,
Evaporated pride.
Track Name: Pog Till You Drop
Smelly patch-clad longhairs with battle-jackets maimed,
And short-haired trendy greebos - they’re just moshers all the same.
Pog until you drop…
Pog till you drop till you’ve fried your brain,
Pick yourself up and get joogy again.
No sleep - only grinding,
Rapid blast beats - we want more,
No more whining - haven’t got time,
Dumpster diving - have you given all your body’s got?
At the show I’m barely alive,
But I’ll circle pit and stage dive,
Lose my shit to that good old beat,
In a sea of tabs and booze and feet.
Pog till you drop, that’s right my friend,
We’ll keep poggin’ till the very end!
Track Name: War on the Poor
Government wankers want to have their say,
‘Don’t drink more than four units a day’,
Ignoring the simple facts -
Cure our ills with extra tax.
Cheap mind-rot’s what makes life worth living,
Staying sober? I’d rather die.
‘All those work-shy drinking meths are overstretching the NHS.’
More than three pounds for just one jar -
Only rich cunts at the bar.
Shivering gents who suffer on the streets,
Priced out of their only treat.
Dehumanise and rob the poor.
Track Name: Too Late
Positive thoughts?
Sort my life out.
Not a fucking chance.
‘It’s never too late to change.’
What a load of bollocks, what a load of shit.
A pogger can’t change its spots,
No point trying - can’t hold down a job.
So how are you going to stop, when you’d rather die than not?
When you’d rather die than not, it’s too late.
Way too late.
Track Name: Bottling Up
I feel like doing some damage,
It’s bottling up…
Pressure’s going to blow soon,
Vessels will burst.
Keeping self-esteem afloat by pouring lager down my throat,
Venting my bile in the only way I know.
In this vicious circle I’m bottling up…
Track Name: Till The End
Hard to wake up, hangover’s crushing,
Feeling so low - I know the answer.
Trapped inside this empty pit,
Fear, despair, not in my right mind,
Out of my head, fighting is futile,
And will we ever win?
So low, feeling hollow,
Drowning sorrows,
Life will grind you till the end.
Track Name: Grindcorpse
One day you’ll be living your life and see that all your days are gone -
There my life goes.
But I know that you won’t care ‘cos you’ll have all your favourite songs -
Grind until I die…
Chinning beers - paggered ears,
Grind forever - till I die.
I was a young grinder, now I’m old.
My sense are barely there, I’m barely aware,
My blasts are slow.
On death’s door I’ll play D-beats,
Grind till death or I’ve been beat.
Decomposing won’t stop me,
Blasting in the grave I’ll be.
Until that day at my post-mortem,
Life was just not fast enough for me.
Grinding on and six feet deep.
Track Name: The Monster
This is how it begins…
Underneath your skin,
Coursing through your veins,
I bring pleasure, I bring pain.
Bubbling in the tanks,
Spilling from the taps,
I will be the cause of your collapse.
Fermentation…
In your brain the protein structures change.
Bound by genetic design,
Fated to liquid decline.
Tearing through your guts,
You’re foaming at the mouth,
Transformation’s started…
Your body’s mine -
All slaves to the monster.
Track Name: Grind is Music
No crotchets, quavers, semibreves?
No cadence or key signature?
No timing or melody.
Il N'y A Pas De Orchestre?
Are you out of your mind?
In a world of ‘noise not music’,
There's just bullshit noise.
Grind is music!
Cool logo equals crap riffs,
Seven inches of pure shit.
Grind is music!
Empty vessels always make most noise.
Track Name: Drain The Dregs
Passed out with his trousers down at
2pm in the centre of town,
Sink or swim - most likely drown,
While paying duty to the crown.
Unfair Kingdom, ruined lives,
Corrupt bastards sharpening knives,
Turn the screw, drive the wedge,
Us versus them - no bets to hedge.
Drain the dregs.
Drain them dry - more lies.
Two shit-apples fell from the same tree,
Just how different can they be?
Public school and an Oxbridge degree,
Or drinking and drinking until he can’t see.
Rotting towns they want forgotten,
Scum at the top and dregs at the bottom.
Track Name: Shut Up
Learn through error.
Try, get better.
Apply effort.
Hard to think? Just try harder.
Attitude stinks,
No riffs, no charm.
No substance or content,
Not worth a laugh.
Textbook, basic.
I don’t want to look on in disbelief.
Oi - shut up.
Ere mate - shut up.
Throwaway bullshit,
Take your crap CD and get to fuck.
Track Name: Booglechrist
Lurch to the van and hop in quick,
Sweating cobs and feeling like shit,
Boogbox out,
Dust and wet,
Lidney on…
Booglechrist - nicely spiced,
Add a blob of peebs and bread.
Water’s boiling up just in time,
Leave to stand then feel divine.
Fucked from booze and dehydration,
Booglechrist - the true salvation (x2).
Booglechrist!
Track Name: Children of the Grain
A glorious morning,
The sky is bright and blue.
I enjoy my life much more than you.
Power joogle - pogger violence…
On a journey to parts unknown,
Thirsting spirits, free to roam,
Still searching…
On a quest with all our friends,
To live our lives and hope it never ends,
It stops when we stop - children of the grain.
Reaching the peak is what we seek,
Empty the glass, may it come to pass,
Gasping for breath as you fall - down.
What has become has become.
No Gods smile.
The black grasp takes all.

It started out as the perfect thing,
We were lit up and bright,
Now it dominates every single day,
With endless quarrels and fights.
Consumed by greed…
Blind madness,
Drunk and fractious.
That which once set me free -
Now a lock with no key.
Ose, Pruflas, Mammon - we are yours…
What has become of us?
What have we become?
Sick, broke, ill-tempered,
Still not satisfied.