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4 Fights EP

by Stolen Goods

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1.
Reel me with infinite artistry hard lines aren’t just imaginary party to all imaginable cruelties you get me to share Fascists really are everyone fails you sooner or lately I hear you’re building betrayals from genius granules of truth No piece missing your imaginary parting shots are pretty dazzling the gas light’s always out of order, says the screenshot by the stereo but only if you squint a little Past spread putrid and interminable beef sucks life into its labyrinth of e-mail lists the end of empathy the ones you call the hearts who cannot suffer and it’s not just me it’s Too many friends are dying or dead to you aren’t lying it’s not just you can’t help it I can’t fucking help any more Still miss the pieces the powder I left for dead on your shoulder we danced on cliff faces crumbling xanax you saved me that night But if I said wait maybe I was somehow the enemy now with leap and abandon you never imagine you’re anyone else But if I said wait maybe I was somehow the enemy now with leap and abandon I never imagine you’re anyone else
2.
How does it feel to be Wanted, a girl with hushed brown eyes leading on the FBI enjoying the silent highs of sunshine The snow it is burning the weather, it is quack A torrid time twister with no turning back Head down to the river Josephine Pour water on your body Josephine Float away, float away, through the river Josephine May your spirit in the night come to me The orange leaves are falling in bleak October's thrall Bed down as a field mouse burn down the slaughter house The girl with the bird tattoo, the shepherd, the masseuse Put out a fire and birth a child you eco-terrorist Head down to the river Josephine Pour water on your body Josephine Float away, float away, through the river Josephine May your spirit in the night come to me Head down to the river Josephine Pour water on your body Josephine Float away, float away, through the river Josephine May your spirit in the night come to me May your spirit in the night come to me May your spirit in the night come to me
3.
We are 04:48
To generalise the offensive means to radicalise disaffection with whichever hierarchy you choose to exercise our destructive creativity against the society of the spectacle sabotage the machines that sabotage our lives promote Indefinite wildcat general strikes always to have mass meetings in all the separate sites of struggle give a direct use value to everything, occupy permanently the factories and the public buildings organise self-defence of the conquered territories and on with the music We are compliant and broken, and We are gardens of silence, and We have scratched off our faces with Credit scores, petticoats, warped pauper’s memories, Co-ordinates magnetised, We’ll raise the dead. They are a defunct assembly of Ghouls, ‘our superiors’, cream-sucking Fools, their cluelessness systems of Staples, potatoes, detectives and diagrams, They think the dead should just Be more polite. We are circles of anxious stars, Flying rags of brutal factory girls We will visit them secretly, Matchsticks and wildcat strikes inside our rumoured eyes, Hatred glows visible, We’ll raise the dead.
4.
Who would love the dragon child with quickening breath two red rocket shoes, too good to lose who’ll dance herself to death Unsettle the familiar let down thrice unspoken she unfolds her hair, no longer there the story which is broken Wasted elation, no insulation emotions for any occasion fire back, you see you see, occasionally Dishes pile high as the very tallest tower in which you find within your mind the very smallest bower There you could spin a lifetime soothing fucking thorns the witch, your master Mary has nothing except scorn Wasted elation, no insulation emotions for any occasion fire back, you see you see, occasionally (Oh my lady) It breathes, the law And those it protects (Laid waste, laid waste to me) It sings inside (Oh wasted lady) And they are like flowers (Laid me waste, wasted me) Chaste as glass (Oh my lay me) And their souls shall flow (Waste me, lady) Like piss in the streets of the great city (Oh oh oh my lady, waste for me Oh my lady Laid me Waste)

about

We recorded this EP ourselves during the not-quite-general strike of February 2023. The tracks are live takes from a couple of sessions in Koshka’s living room.

4 Fights is the name of our union’s dispute over shitty conditions and the triumph of the profit motive in the education sector.

The four songs here are a mix of brand new ideas barely coming together and stuff we’ve been messing around with for years.

'Not just, a love song' is about struggling to hold relationships together while reality’s cracking at the seams.

'Josephine Sunshine' is a dead of night folky incantation of a liberation legend.

'We are' we wrote in the aftermath of the 2019 general election defeat and the death of our comrade, Sean Bonney. You can find Sean’s poems in the lyrics along with other fragments of struggles past and present.

'Fairytale ending' is about the sexist sinkhole that is respectable domesticity, and the risks and rewards of running like hell in the other direction.

Workers of the world, enjoy!

La lotta continua.
SG x

credits

released April 14, 2023

Koshka Duff: songwriting, piano, vocals
Tom Kemp: songwriting, guitar, vocals

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about

Stolen Goods Nottingham, UK

Nottingham band lamenting defeat. ache absolutions. big piano energy. apocalypse pop.

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