Lyrics
Here's the definitive rant
Slates drive me bats
Therefore I say, "hey slates, give us a break"
Male slags, slags, slates and tapes
Everything's strained by the States
They are the grey ones of our state I relate
Male slags, slags, slates and tapes
Male slates, slags, slates and tapes
Male slags, slags, slates and tapes
And slates, break hard, break hardly
Break the slates for Christ's sake
Male slags, slags, slates and tapes
Male slags, knock over your drink
Pay for correct amount spilt
Male slags
Remember slates are always out of date
In the fine light of day they have to face
Well I can't give a definition
The consequences of their plagiarisation
Male slags
With greedy bastard scrubbed hands
Kill jokes, join gangs
Kill the safety in our lands
Male slags, slags, slates and tapes
Male slags, slags, slates and tapes
In the cold nearly old ska Jamaican dawn
Dead publisher's sons 1
Material hardship pawns
The Beat, Wah! Heat
Male slags, slags, slates and tapes
(Dog bites the dicks that feeds it)
Male slags, slags, slates and tapes
Male slates, slags, slates and tapes
Academic male slags
Ream off names of books and bands
Kill cultural interest in our land
Male slags, slags, slates and tapes
Male slates
Male slags
Male slags
With creaky pants and scrubbed hands
OK mates, let's get onto the valley of weights
The valley of weights
The valley of weights is the valley where they cast off the weights and became uptight
Deaf and bereft
A liberty mess
Male slates, slags, slates and tapes
Female slates
Make pins of your whims
Break your balls, suck your thoughts
Rip-off bands with stuck up hair and shitty pants
New beatniks with hoop shirts
Male slates, slags, slates and tapes
Big priest, give us a break
Help me to fight the slates
Male slags, slags, slates and tapes
How would you describe the slates?
Don't start improvising for God's sake
Male slags
Male slags
Male slates, slags, slates and tapes
They are the grey ones of the state I relate
Everything's strained by the slates
The valley of weights
OK mates
Commentary
< Post in progress >
The title echoes the lines from “New Puritan“: “Male slags, male slates, famous apes”.
Footnotes
- The son(s) of a dead publisher, or the dead son(s) of a publisher? ↩︎
Sources / Links
- The Annotated Fall: “Slates, Slates, Etc.” [Archived]
- Ford, Simon (2003). Hip Priest: the story of Mark E Smith and The Fall. London: Quartet Books.
- Mackay, Tommy (2018). 40 Odd Years of The Fall. Place of publication unknown: Greg Moodie.
- Pringle, Steve (2022). You Must Get Them All: The Fall on Record. [paperback edition]. Pontefract: Route Publishing Ltd. [Online store]
- Smith, Mark E. (1985). The Fall Lyrik & Texte Von Mark E. Smith. In Deutsch & Englisch. With Drawings by Brix. Berlin: The Lough Press. [AKA The Orange Book. Available online in The Internet Archive]
- Smith, Mark E. (2008). vII. The Lough Press & AMarquisManipulationProductions. [AKA the Blue Lyrics Book]
- The Track Record: “Slates, Slags etc”
Views: 413
The ‘publishers sons’ line is overlaid and slightly preempted with the line ‘hold your tongue’.