‘The Battle for Tomorrow’ is a collaborative album, between punk poet/spoken word and experimental sound artist Adam Probert and John E. Smoke, noise guru of Flesh Eating Foundation. John creates the sonic background to Adam’s lyrics. It’s a unique, one off, thought provoking sound.
The eleven track debut is released digitally, on CD and on tape and exists to break down the walls of your perceptions and question all accepted wisdom, through eclectic aural backdrops.
The Light That Burns My Eyes – Ambient intro, darkly lyrical, spoken word format, with background robotics and a constant synth repetition, emphasising the focus on sameness and the darkness surrounding it. Visually evocative, in its’ simplicity.
I Am War – War sounds, set to lyrical news reports, presenting real anger and rage at the war’s effects on humanity, narrated to a background air raid siren and the sound of bombs dropping and exploding, as the volume and rage of the lyrics intensifies, in a desperate, urgent tone, towards the close. Thought provoking’s too small a phrase. Compelling, perhaps, in a dark, imprinting way.
Take Your Fucking Medicine – Oration of socio-political food for thought, conveyed amidst a backdrop of cacophonous noise, growing in volume, till it’s almost overwhelming; creating an impression of mass information overload, public and political brainwashing and ingrained after effects of accepting what we’re told by ‘expert guidance’. A study in the motivation behind clinical decision making and perceived social control, you might say.
The Mob – (Feat Katy Watkiss) – An underwater world sound introing, swiftly followed by another war narration, this time, in spoken duet format. A cleverly monotone delivery, conveyed with an ambient, natural world audio behind it, never deviating from the same flat quality, yet carrying a sinister tone within it, much like an approaching danger signal. Very relevant and this will resonate strongly with those with greater awareness of the ravages of war.
Osama Obama – A strong political oration of the perceived cause and effect relationship between war and religion. Two simultaneous orations of the co-relations between religious extremism and war and the perceptions of different individuals and possible social outcomes. All spoken with that same increasing intensity, a highly sinister chant of ‘Osama, Obama’, immediately followed by a bomb exploding. A continuous tone, like a ball, repeatedly and slowly bouncing along the ground, creating room for visual imagery.
What You Have To Hide (Feat Mark Perryman) – Media and social control emphasis, protesting against planned interventions invading our privacy, much like a public information broadcast, with the opposite aim of those we see – ie to warn against said broadcasts and all that’s known and unknown, but increasingly clear, within political worlds, re: measures devised to penetrate people’s inner lives. Spoken, to a sung soundtrack of a creepily repetitive nature, further emphasising the ethos and utilised means of social control.
Justice – Obscure sounds, a relentless stream of words, outlining social injustices and the anger at the perpetrators and continuation of such injustices. The narrative pace demonstrates the endless stream of injustice well. A simple, but demonstrably momentous ambient background, intelligently reflecting the continuous dulling of thought processes, with mass indoctrination – leading on nicely, to the next track title.
Monotony – A verbal rant about the blind, unquestioning faith in life, as it’s lived and the obedient, thoughtless ways in which we live it, repetitively and monotonously, accepting social norms and conventions as the correct and standard way to live our lives. Righteous anger again, at this state of affairs, is conveyed through the tone, pace and contents.
Population Control – Opening to the sound of mysterious echoes of machinery, soon followed by more anger at environmental pollution, perceived medico-political conspiracies, etc, finishing with old fashioned sitcom dialogue, pertaining to the good old days and how things used to be, verbalised to an eerie sounding light percussive ambient background.
The Flying Dutchman – More of that ubiquitous ambience and righteous aggression, at things which are now beginning to lose their clarity. I’m uncertain whether the loss of focus here is entirely mine or belongs, in part, to the songwriter. I just know I’ve lost the thread.
Famine – This is a bit like an advert for pool cleanser. Flat and morbid, lyrically and musically, it strikes me that something more could have been done with it, as a closing track, to increase it’s listenability factor, but given the protest thread, perhaps that’s the point. It’s a stance against conceptual popularity. It might work better for others of a punkier mindset, but I’m still not sure what it’s about. I think the tonal, dull flatness finally got to me, but again, in track title terms, maybe that’s the point. It’s meant to emphasise the feeling of famine, so perhaps it’s done its’ job, after all, as it’s left me feeling rather empty.
Overall – In protest terms, it does its’ job. Unfaltering vocal passionate emphasis, a constant sense of stilted thoughts of the masses, conveyed through the music, which is so obscure, it defies clear categorisation. In fitting with the purpose of the songs, the sound itself refuses to be pigeonholed. Ultimately, it’s likely to appeal to open minds, with eclectic tastes.
For fans of The Sex Pistols, The Levellers, Bob Dylan.
Available now, via Sonic Entrails Records