Get all 31 Richard Gorman releases available on Bandcamp and save 50%.
Includes unlimited streaming via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality downloads of Welcome to the Holy Land, Fretwork, Stone and Feather, The Weaving Shed, Don't Try This at Home, Man Walks into a Bar, Medication, Zeitgeist, and 23 more.
1. |
Mad Dog
04:05
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Mad Dog
Mad Dog downs the hard stuff he’s off the leash tonight
The pack are loose and on the prowl and spoiling for a fight
In every place they know his face and dare not meet his eye
But if you think you’re hard enough sunshine come ahead and have a try
Mad Dog marks his territory spills beer around his pitch
Stares you down and bares his teeth and sniffs around his bitch
She’s dumb enough to swallow his pride and joy and pills
So he fills her head with cock tales tensed and read for the kill
Mad Dog paints the pavement Mad Dog’s spitting teeth
Mad Dog spins the world around and tries to find his feet
Mad Dog’s got her cornered, wags his tail and makes her cry
You might think he’s looking rough but you should see the other guy
Mad Dog downs the hard stuff he’s off the leash tonight
The pack are loose and on the prowl and spoiling for a fight
And they sing
Come and have a go if you think you’re hard enough
Come and have a go if you think you’re hard enough
You’re going home in a fucking ambulance
If you think you’re fucking hard enough
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2. |
Remote
03:44
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Remote
The world is under my control
It’s sexts and plugs and cyber trolls
Immersive, interactive and remote
I stroke the pad to pilot my ship
Through the seas of online gods I worship
Watch the spirits on the family shrine
From the great down to the small
‘This Is Your Life’, fly on the wall
Confess your sinful secrets to the world
I’ll swallow infamy and shame
For fifteen minutes viral fame
Replay my darkest moments frame by frame
Eyes go scrolling through the listings
Slippery soaps and anal fistings
MTV teenage idolatry
Nature goddess landscape gardens
I feel my conviction harden
Lay your hands upon my totem pole
But the hard sell’s just a tease
You can’t touch but you can see
The treasures of the world on QVC
I’m sci-fi light years away
Kneel before the screen and pray
Everyone’s gone surfin’ USA
So I tune into the steeples on the skyline
Microwave mast needles
Opium for the people
I, I’m hooked on my mainline connection
It’s the highest definition
Widescreen windows vision
Virtual world
She’s a gift sent from above
My computer graphic love
The hip holstered answer to my prayers
Polygonal tits are more attractive
Gets my joystick interactive
Keep that trigger finger pumping through the night
I want to be a millionaire
Immortalised and on the air
With prime time perfect skin and shining hair
But now there’s no real people left
We’re all logged on talk show guests
Hard bitten cops and crazy TV chefs
So I tune into the steeples on the skyline
Microwave mast needles
Opium for the people
I, I’m hooked on my mainline connection
It’s the highest definition
Widescreen windows vision
Virtual world
The world is under my control
It’s chat room sex and tramadol
Immersive, interactive and remote
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3. |
One Good Man
04:14
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One Good Man
One good man rides out of the South
Takes aim at the villains with his heart in his mouth
They hide what he says behind shadows and lies
They shoot from the hip and they spit in his eye
One man standing tall to meet hatred with love
But his enemies know that one good man
Is never enough
One good man walks the straight path
Walks into their thunder their lightning their wrath
A voice in the wild, a cry in the dark
Thrown into a night waiting for
One single spark
The fatal black spot, the knife in the back
The screams and the body thrown into the sack
It’s the same old story you know how it goes
One eye in the crosshair the sharpshooter’s mark
The pieces of silver, the kiss in the dark
The great and the good crying crocodile tears
Make your conscience a martyr to the changes you fear
And the spin the old lie, ‘there was no other way’
So you turn a blind eye and you walk away
It’s time that we faced the unfaceable truth
It’s not down to one man
It’s up to me and you
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4. |
Fat Cat (Poem)
00:55
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Fat Cat
Fat Cat fish from fancy yacht.
Fat Cat bought hat for Royal Ascot.
Fat Cat think title earn respect.
Fat Cat like trickle down effect.
Fat Cat part time yard director,
Fat Cat get a great big cheque for.
Fat Cat make you all work harder.
Fat Cat got the key to larder.
Fat Cat keep you lean and hungry.
Fat Cat land is milk and honey.
Fat Cat let you vote for hobby.
Fat Cat master of the lobby.
Fat Cat say he earn every scrap.
Fat Cat full of Fat Cat crap.
Fat Cat go to private vet.
Had enough of Fat Cat yet?
He get cream.
You get litter.
You get bones.
He get kipper
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5. |
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Mad, Bad and Dangerous
I’ve got a plan to be your superman
I’m mad, bad and dangerous to know
Can you see the harm in a cross with crooked arms?
I’m mad, bad and dangerous to know
Through Europe’s fair skies the black eagle flies
The colours run we’re cleaning up our homes
Let’s turn the world to simple monochrome
White skin, grey shirts and black boot uniforms
Black boot uniforms
Jackboot Uniforms
I’m your strength through joy
Your blonde-haired blue-eyed boy
I’m mad bad and dangerous to know
We’ve gone and hi-jacked the dear old Union Jack
Mad, bad and dangerous to know
You’ve nothing to fear unless you’re a nigger, kyke or queer
From skyrise hellholes to the old school tie
Join the march and hold your head up high
Look that Judas gay boy in the eye
And kiss his arse goodbye
Kiss it goodbye
I’m pure I’m hardcore
I’m the wolf at your door
Mad, bad and dangerous to know
Reclaim the night, swing slightly further to the right
Be mad, bad and dangerous to know
It’s easy as hell, just don’t lift a finger to help
Can’t you read the writing on the walls
Of your dead end streets and soulless shopping malls
The Star of David’s just about to fall
Just about to fall
We’re just about to fall
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6. |
Tough Love
05:02
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Tough Love
I was minding my own business
She saw my tab was in the black
She knew men closed their eyes to see her
On her back
Her lips were red as neon
Heads turned where she walked
She was perched upon that barstool
Like a hawk
Her life was full of strife and trouble
He didn’t treat her like he should
She was trying to tell me that my chances
Were looking good
She said
‘I’m feelin’ rough love
But you look good enough love
Fill my glass up with the good stuff
We’ll see if your made of the right stuff’
We conspired and confided
In sins too terrible to list
Seems her ex was pretty handy
With his fists
Well you can lead a drunk to water
But you cannot make her drink
Her body was an angels but her head was face down
In the sink
She said
‘I’m feelin’ rough love
But you look good enough love
Fill my glass up with the good stuff
We’ll see if your made of the right stuff’
‘I’m feelin’ rough love
You look just about good enough love
Top my glass up with the hard stuff
Let’s see if your made of the right stuff’
When he walked into the bar that night
I said ‘It’s time for us to go’
She said ‘It would be bad manners if I didn’t say
Hello’
So several empty bottles later
She fell straight back into his arms
Hanging round his neck like some cheap and faded
Lucky charm
And she said
‘He gives me tough love
C’mon now and treat me rough love
God knows I’ve tried to give it up love
But it ain’t easy to quit tough love’
And she said
‘He gives me tough love
C’mon now and beat me up love
God knows I’ve tried to give it up love
But it ain’t easy to quit tough love’
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7. |
Dumb it Down
04:26
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Dumb It Down
I still remember my glory days at school
That kid who always had the answers
I made him keep his head down shut his mouth and play the fool
I taught him no-one likes a smart arse
I picked a fight
A touch too smart, a touch too bright
It takes the likes of me
To knock him down a peg or three
Some piece of skirt’s reading out the TV news
A politics and bullshit talk show panel
With my remote control it’s a debate that I can’t lose
Turn over to the porno cable channel
Switch off your mind
Pump and squirtsville’s on the other side
She’s more my kind
Her mouth’s shut but her legs are open wide
Give me cheap thrills and masturbation
I’m sure of my station
At the bar they’ve got my measure it’s another lager downed
Another idea floated and another idea drowned
Don’t try to be too clever son
Don’t try to be profound
We’ll find new depths to plummet
You’d better dumb it down
Blonde bimbo DJs tell me what I need to hear
Boy bands, R’n’B and gangster nation
They’ve pulled the wool over my eyes and stuffed it in my ears
With tits and ass in cheerleader formations
It must be shit
There’s no video to go with it
My attention span
Snaps back like a rubber band
Give me pop tarts and TV dinners
For hard of hearing easy listeners
My thousand watt car stereo pumps drum and bass around
It’s louder so it’s better than any other sound
You can keep your music live son if you keep it in the background
Don’t finger pick just strum it
Easy stuff so I can hum it
You know you’d better dumb it
You’d better dumb it down
Dumb it down
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8. |
Poor Wee Us (Poem)
01:10
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Poor Wee Us
Some wise cunt wi’ an attitude pulls fit birds at the bar,
yon bastart think’s he’s somethin’ else in his fanny magnet car,
the stuck up bloody English huv been guzzlin’ wur oil,
smart arse student fucker’s livin’ aff ma sweat and toil,
yer bugger in the fancy togs is lookin’ doon his nose at me.
Aw can’t ye see?
It’s a’ a grand conspiracy,
Ah’m aye hard done by.
Poor wee me.
Yon gaji in the shell suit is a manky little thug,
he’s muckin’ up ma pavement wi’ his mangy little dug,
see a’ they filthy immigrants beggin’ wi’ their hats,
there’s wimmen wantin’ hand oots
‘cause they’ve dropped anither brat.
A tarts a tart fer a’ o’ that.
It’s aff the likes o’ me they steal,
it’s grannies wantin’ meals oan wheels.
Ah tell ye man it isnae real.
It’s never give.
It’s take, take, take.
Aye every wanker’s oan the make,
it’s enough tae drive ye tae despair,
ah cannae take it onymair,
ah’m only livin’ aff hot air.
It isnae fair.
Aw there, there, there.
Poor wee me.
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9. |
Burn Now
03:33
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Burn Now
Walk down, walk with me
Filthy city streets
We’ve got all the beauty in the world
Dance now, dance with me
Empty factories
We’ve got all the passion in the world
Cold rain on the slate, dark clouds overhead
Dog shit on our shoes, broken tenement walls
March now, march with us
Barefoot, broken glass
We’ve got all the power in the world
They don’t need us now
We can tear them down
We’ve got all the fire in the world
They watch from the skies, they rule with machines
We serve with a smile nursing violent dreams
Dundee angels, Dundee angels
Bite now, hard and deep
Sink your teeth in me
Stomach all the anger in the world
What a beautiful day to roll over and die
What a beautiful day to give up and cry
Dundee angels, Dundee angels
Burn now, burn with me
Burn now, burn with me
Burn now, burn with me
Burn now, burn with me
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10. |
Mind the Gap
05:42
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Mind the Gap
Paulo spits in the mud pays his respects to the river
Brown with bullshit and the sins of Westminster
Claims his pitch on the bridge, scrapes a bleeding guitar
Broken spiders for hands, half a hatful of pity
From Square Mile vampires with fresh blood on their lips
Across the moat with cold electric eyes
They watch us from glass castles in the sky
While cold voices in dark tunnels warn
Mind the gap
A cheap bottle of gin, the fruits of his labour
From chic Southbank girls high on fashion and cocktails
Well-heeled tourists swapping gold for nostalgia
He came to sing a better song
To this kingdom of the blind
Now he can’t stick it where the sun don’t shine
Another life and a younger man
Strength in his hands, fire on his tongue
With nothing to lose
And a bright dream to led him astray
Soon you fond you’re just another wave upon the sea
A bottled message nobody will read
The bottle and the needle become your only release
Lost among the souls of purgatory
Once upon a time these lights seemed magical
He sought comfort in the rain
Faith and hope had no need of charity
Mind the gap
Paulo shits in the park, curls to sleep in the ruins
Looks the suits in the eye but they only see through him
And though they don’t know his name he can still make them curse it
He sticks a pittance on an oyster card, passes to the underworld below
One final deep breath by the platform’s edge….
Mind the gap
Mind the gap
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11. |
Broken Angel
02:49
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Broken Angel
She’s another broken angel
She’s got that lost look in her eye
Brought up on schoolgirl dreams
Toy dolls and magazines
He stole her dignity and pride
But in the dream he never left her
Never tried to hurt the kids
She never spoke it’s true
Although I think she knew
He had betrayed her with a kiss
With a kiss
And so a vow becomes a curse
For better or for worse
In sickness or in health
She still blames herself
She wears a little extra make-up
To hide that ring around her eye
But when she was young
She used to turn him on
Now he just turns and walks on by
Walks on by
But her love once held him in it’s spell
Now only time will tell
If promises are broken
And friends for all the cries they heard
Never said a word
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12. |
Ex-Con (Poem)
00:41
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Ex-Con
It’s not easy to shake off the infamy,
gain your respect or elicit your sympathy.
It’s not easy to stand tall and proud,
slip into a tux and fit in with the in crowd.
It’s not easy to land the lead role,
climb social ladders and steer clear of the dole.
It’s not easy to pick up the birds,
voice strong opinions and make yourself heard.
It’s not easy to shake hands and speak with you,
or walk the same side of the street as you
with a face like a broken pavement.
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13. |
The Pick Up
02:52
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The Pick Up
Late friends, late street
Late night dirt is kicking under your feet
He’s fast, he’s cold
He’s got to get his kicks before he gets old
You hook him with that painted smile on your face
He buys you gin and slips his hand round your waist
But you want more so you play hard to get
You know he can’t take his eyes off your breasts
Good night , good times
Good god it feels like you’re committing a crime
Cheap wine, cheap thrills
Cheap love you’re making sure he picks up the bills
Outside your doorway he kisses and lingers
You close your fist to hide that mark on your finger
Let him pretend that he would never have guessed
You start to tremble as he unzips your dress
Then he says some thing about your style and your class
Pulls you down and slips his hand round your…
So you push and you shove
You’re making out but you’re not making love
Play hard, play deep
Playboy fantasies but don’t play for keeps
And in the morning he seems to have changed
The voice is familiar but he looks middle-aged
Says if you want to you can see him again
You say ‘sometime soon’ but you don’t tell him when
And once he’s gone you start rehearsing that lie
Staring your old man’s photographs
Straight in the eye
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14. |
Ghosts
04:22
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Ghosts
Dundee is haunted
I can see ghosts
They leave their needle keys to heaven lying around Hilltown playparks
And ghosts can’t laugh
And ghosts have forgotten how to cry
They drift around the Gellatly Street job centre
Where ghosts need not apply
Ghosts in the co-op shuffle past the cold cut shelves
Unseen
Shoveling dead meat into jacket pockets to feed themselves
And I know ghosts can’t walk through walls and I know ghosts can’t fly
Because ghosts need to caj 50p for the bus fare home
Or for a coffee or for a phone call or for a bite tae eat
Or for… or for…
And ghosts just stroll blindly out through the traffic
Because ghosts can’t die
Ghosts are as pale as gull shit and feathers
Ghosts float in and out of the screen door confessional booth in the Coldside Chemists
Cos ghosts need medicine
A little green nectar
Or a spoonful of honey
And it’s funny because it use to be thought strange tae see ye’d seen a ghost
But now they blow round and round and round the Blackness Road
So many torn, dirty, white carrier bags
Like so much litter
Now they’re street furniture, now they’re unexceptional
Now they unlive among us
Now they rule
Dundee is haunted
I can see ghosts
Walking their ghost children
To school
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15. |
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The Cutlery Drawer
In ma heid all click-a-click an' clatter-clatter.
Ching-fuck, ching-fuck, chitter-chatter.
Aff that desk Jamie! Aff that chair!
Good boys don't use that sort o' langwij.
In the kitchin
drawer pult open.
Daddy's got lang knife oot,
sharp an' shiny,
slides it intae mammy's belly.
Red spray, red spray,
tiles an' silver.
Runaway an' runaway
an' want tae runaway ferever.
Bad Jamie left his mammy dyin'.
School lady says it's okay cryin'.
But every huggy kissy wanker,
'be all right now', grown up bastard's
only slam-slam-slam-slam-slammin'.
Ma heid's a' full
o' tangled forks and knives and peelers.
Ma tongue, ma fingers an' ma feelin's jammed
inside the cutlery drawer.
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16. |
Bloke
03:06
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Bloke
I want my limo plates initialled so Joe Public knows I’m in there,
I want Angelina Jolie’s fingers ruffling my hair,
I want to be a billionaire.
I want rave reviews for Tarantino blockbusters that star me,
I want a retinue of bodyguards so that jealous fans can’t harm me,
I want Rolex and Armani and a paparazzi army.
I want to tower like Hercules above a band of lesser heroes,
I want to hear my name on Oscar night announced by Bob De Niro,
I want to be the one who comes before so many zeros.
I want my headline sex life to be feted in the press,
I want Lily Cole to want my autograph and beg for my address,
I want to hear her lick her little lips and gasp as I undress.
I want polls in Cosmopolitan to rate me King of Lovers,
I want teenage girls to see me on and underneath the covers,
I want to have my secret gift to charity discovered.
I want to drive the Lambourghini you’re all gagging to acquire,
I want my self help guide to be the reading you require,
I want my face reflected on the front page of Esquire.
I want to be a bona fide Gucci endorsee,
I want to be the A-list guest on prime time chat TV,
I want all you wannabees to wannabee like me.
I want, I want, I want, I want, I want, I want, I want it
I want, I want, I want, I want, I want, I want, I want it
I want, I want, I want, I want, I want, I want, I want it
I want, I want, I want, I want, I want, I want, I want it
It’s all about me, me, me, me, me, me, me!
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17. |
Maia
04:51
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Maia
The burning sun is never seen
Here in Soho alleyways where I prowl the beat
Every John’s a cripple, every heart’s a broken bone
And I’m no surgeon but I can leech a little blood
In some rusting steel town walks a ghost of who I am
A father proud of who I might have been
But now I’m on my back beneath some prick who can’t say no
He comes and leaves me emptier inside
Ah but the money’s good, you know I’m no-one’s fool
Leering rozzers play the game and slap your arse around
But London’s hungry, we all hustle to survive
I genuflect in shadows and swallow my pride
But my daughter has it all, all I never had
The rest I spend on day trips to the moon
I’ll let them stand me drinks and needle me just to kill pain
When she grows I hope she’ll understand
Maia Maia
Maia Maia
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18. |
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Thames Water Walking
The bright sun was put upon high for this day.
The vast blue spread over the sky for this day.
The duck and the swan were set here to bathe,
decorating this wide swathe of silver.
Gleaming towers rise from the sweat of the city
where Chiswick commuters conspire
to harvest the fruits of commoner labour;
an offering to the ancient river
and the lingering ghosts of Empire builders
who call you to go Thames water walking.
Here they paint and polish pillar boxes.
Here they scour graffiti from ruddy brick walls
emblazoned instead with bold metal plaques
which proclaim the proud heritage of occupants past.
Commonwealth muscles were not flexed in vain
in creating this fine promenade.
An irresistible blonde runner smiles and flirts by,
perfect breasts rhythmically jogging,
a lycra Britannia our sleek river Queen
invites you to go Thames water walking.
England’s wide artery glides regal and blue.
Englishmen reign from Edwardian castles
overlooking their green and pleasant domains.
Padlocked and fenced rosebud riverside gardens
rooted in centuries of black pagan mud.
Blowtorch thick tar to your riverboat home
upstream from derelict satanic mills.
Old Father Thames arms are your moat and your cradle
and they beckon us still
to go Thames water walking.
Let each well heeled embankment stroller,
each shining knight in pinstripe armour,
each entrepreneurial high roller,
dismount your Mercedes charger
and patrol the riverbank controlling
a nation’s fate and destiny.
Join the lawyers in the grass reclining
and every public schoolboy sculling
singing ‘Did those feet in ancient times
go Thames water walking?’.
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19. |
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The Cross, the Crescent and the Star
Jesus Christ can we be saved
From your sanctimonious crusades?
Tear yourself down from that bloody cross
Strike now David while there’s still time
Before Goliath crushes Palestine
Let’s shake the Temple ‘til it falls
Your god betrays you with a kiss
You cannot wash your hands of this
We know who the killers are
The Cross, the Crescent and the Star
Oh Mohammed might we be spared
The suicidal bomb brigade?
Let’s break the Prophet’s seal today
By ancient writ we stand condemned
Our reason and honesty offend
By fire and sword the faithless pay the cost
To the Star, the Crescent and the Cross
nolite arbitrari quia venerim mittere pacem in terram
non veni pacem mittere sed gladium
nolite arbitrari quia venerim mittere pacem in terram
non veni pacem mittere sed gladium
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20. |
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Don’t Let The Bastard’s Grind You Down
I can see your head is hanging down
Bent beneath the weight you drag around
Crawling through the mean streets of this town
You can’t find a girl to share your bed
When you haven’t got a roof above your head
You wake up cold but you’d rather wake up dead
While others climbed the ladders you went sliding down the snakes
You tried your best to fix it but you never got the breaks
The boss got blisters on his feet just kicking you around
But don’t let the bastards get to you
Don’t let the bastards grind you down
For all you gave you’ve nothing left to show
All that flying high has laid you low
And all the guys who put you wise were never in the know
Trampled by the profiteers of doom
They pumped you up then needled you’re balloon
Another victim of the economic boom
You were on that flying carpet when somebody pulled the rug
You’re future’s looking brighter and some bugger pulls the plug
You’ve lost that winning ticket and it looks like your numbers up
Don’t let the bastards get to you
Don’t let the bastards fuck you up
|
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Richard Gorman Dundee, UK
Instructions for use:
1 Acquire Albums 2 Acquire whisky 3 Ensure no interruptions for the next hour 4 Dim Lights 5 Turn it up
Drink and repeat as required.
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