The final track on the album Earth Scum by the Yorkshire and Macclesfield duo of Chris Coupe and Chris Watson features viscerally acerbic, self-deprecating gallows humorous delivery by Mancunian poet and performer Thick Richard. Very much in of a similar vein but with a variety of styles from post-punk, jazz, techno, alternative house and psychedelic, the eclectic and playful album, filled with clever sampling, beats and more vocals has a number of other guests performers and is also embedded below in the Soundcloud and also the Bandcamp page, from which more of their music can also be enjoyed and bought.
I was conceived in the recovery position
In the basement of a police station
I was brought up like a ballerina's breakfast
And raised on stolen donations
The doctor cried The midwife resigned
As I was born to this world
My mother swapped me for a less ugly baby
And she called me the scum of the earth
Scum of the earth
The name that I was baptised as a babe
Lightning struck the steeple of the church
When the priest called out my name
He threw his Bible in the sky
Pulled out a pistol
And shot a hole through it like a bird
And as its feathers came spiralling down to the ground
He christened me the scum of the earth
Scum of the earth
Untrustworthy
Bound to be up to no good
Standing on the outskirts of society
Swigging from a bottle of angel's blood
Peeping over the precipice
Forever the pessimist
Even my blood group is bleeding negative
Counting on your fingers to calculate my worth you call me
The scum of the earth
Depending on the state
Of mind I'm in when I awake I might partake in playing nice
And join in with your game
But unemployment's got its benefits
You can't get fired
And I know the system doesn't work
So why the fuck should I? Dole (dole)
Always believe in your soul
You've got nowhere to go
Your unemployable
Always believe in dole
Well I've always got my settee to fall back on to
How much is your time worth
When I sign on I sign the name you gave me
Scum of the earth
And the calendar pages pave the way
Of a 75-year-long street
And so I bang my head
Against the factory wall
There ain't nothing to do but drink
There ain't nothing to do
But abuse the booze
And kiss goodbye to the day
It's enough to make a man lose his screws
Man I just want to get in my grave
Because I'm just a mild-mannered social parasite by day
But after six and a half hours on the apple sauce
An amazing transformation takes place...
Cider-man! Cider-man!
I can't do it but I think I can
Because only a pissed-up superhero
Or a complete fucking idiot
Would try and pick a fight with a police dog
Well I had a most terrible daydream
As I was propping up the end of the bar
My life fragmented into millions of jigsaw pieces
And scattered all over the floor
And frantically on my hands and knees
I try picking up the shards
And piecing it back together again
But the picture looked all wrong
I ran to the toilets to throw up
And this scream of unconsciousness spewed from my gut
I staggered back to the bar wiping my face
But the expressions on the people's faces had changed
”What's your poison?” the barman asked
I saw terrible visions in the bottom of my glass
I saw the mass replicated definition of freedom
Represented by the slogans printed on the t-shirts
To corrupt the pupil you poison the teachers
I heard the untrustworthy word being preached
By the diehard disciples of Saturday night TV
Who like to make you think life's just a rehearsal
Because it helps to cope with the hurt
That comes with the curse of being a person
A brand new definition of worthlessness
And this blinding clarity is like a pencil in my eye
Take your dick out of my ear and stop fucking with my mind!
"What's your poison?" the barman asked
I saw terrible visions in the bottom of my glass
And I screamed at the people to warn them
But they just turned back to their drinks and ignored me
And then the management asked me to leave
So now I'm outside shouting at the traffic on the street
Shaking my fist at the useless moon
Trying to catch the stupid thing with a lasso
Maybe I'm just confused
But I can't seem to see the world the way that I used to
But you've made your mind up
You know all you need to know
You see me coming and you cross the road
Like that chicken in the joke
But your narrow mind is too small to look down on me
Class never has been a straight line
And respect is a two-way street
The land that your cattle are reared on is poisoned
The fruit your trees bare manufactured by man
Your media and art is corrupted by money
And therefore irrelevant to me and my clan
Your wealth is like time
A powerful concept
Which when studied closely doesn't actually exist
What will you do when the people you put down discover
The foundations of your house are so weak they will split
So I'll just leave you to worry about things
Like reputation and worth
But just remember this planet is made out of dirt
When you call me the scum of the earth
Chris x 2
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