GBH - Discography - 'From Here To Reality'

From Here To Reality

New Decade / Trust Me I'm A Doctor / B.M.T
Mass Production / The Old School Of Self Destruction
You Don't Do Enough / From Here To Reality
Dirty Too Long / Destroy / Just In Time For The Epilogue
Don't Leave Your Honey Down The Pits
Moonshine Song

The first song proclaims a 'new decade' but in hindsight we maybe were't quite out of the woods creativity wise for the band ? 'From here to reality' has its good moments, certainly more in my opinion than its predecessor A Fridge too far but it ain't one of my favourites, especially when I write this now in the context of the release of the 'Junkies' and 'Hah-Ha' Lp's. Nontheless, I enjoyed hearing 'Don't take your honey down the pits' and the 'Moonshine song' played live and perhaps it is these tracks that stand out out on what is an otherwise very thrashy LP indeed. If you discount the time-breaks (which I personally have never liked that much in songs anyway, regardless of who used them), then 'Trust me I'm a Doctor' comes across well and the cover of 'Destroy' by The Vibrators is pretty respectable too.

New Decade

Words & Music: Abrahall, Blyth, Lomas, Reder

From the slums to the suburbs there's a rallying cry,
people are kicking authority, blacking its eye.
It's sure time to party when your freedom comes,
flowers poking out of the barrels of guns.

Like a punch-drunk fighter, I see your power fade,
talking your place in this mad, mad, mad parade.

You pulled the pin from the last hand-grenade,
.. .. It's the start of a new decade.

You'll get your liberation from the soldiers and the cops,
the new wall is built and that is where the buck stops.
The underground has risen, select a chosen few.
So throw out the old, bring in the new.

You've over-run the ignorant, the bigots and the fools,
burnin' in the decadence .. the new mob rules.

Trust Me I'm A Doctor

Words & Music: Abrahall, Blyth, Lomas, Reder

B.M.T

Words & Music: Abrahall, Blyth, Lomas, Reder

Mass Production

Words & Music: Abrahall, Blyth, Lomas, Reder

Was it you who took the money,
to the land of milk and honey ?
Your past is catching up on you,
put it on a conveyor belt.
The chips are down, the cards are dealt,
you won't be calling trumps no more.

Everone's getting decent,
and that's what I regret.
Don't want no mass production,
don't want no mass production blues.

I believe in quality,
liberate the quantity.
Not like battery hens in a cage,
the self-help seekers soldier on.
They won't stop 'till the war is won,
got no industrial spies 'round here.

One a penny, two a penny,
blocking up all the roads.
One a penny, two a penny,
trucks are ditching their loads.
Piling 'em here, piling 'em there,
blocking out the light of the sun.
One a penny, two a penny,
and that's just about as cheap as they come.

Your brand new name ain't no good,
I never ever thought it would.
Just another snake in the grass,
your cheapskate brain waves schemes,
are just a fantasy of your brains,
wake up it's the 20th Century.

The Old School Of Self Destruction

Words & Music: Abrahall, Blyth, Lomas, Reder

You Don't Do Enough

Words & Music: Abrahall, Blyth, Lomas, Reder

From Here To Reality

Words & Music: Abrahall, Blyth, Lomas, Reder

Dirty Too Long

Words & Music: Abrahall, Blyth, Lomas, Reder

Destroy

Original Words & Music: I. Carnochan

Just In Time For The Epilogue

Words & Music: Abrahall, Blyth, Lomas, Reder

Out of the frying pan, into the microwave.
I need my fill, gotta satisfy my craves.

I missed out again, 'cus I ain't had enough,
When the tough go shoppin', the shoppin' gets tough.

I don't wanna be treated like a dog,
I don't wanna be lost in smoke and fog.
I don't wanna be treated like a dog,
don't wanna be just in time for the epilogue.

Give me a break, don't give me no abuse.
If you carry on, I'm gonna blow a fuse.

Just gire me one more day.
I'll make up tme for sure.
I know I'm sick inside,
so help me find a cure.

Procrastination's stealing all my time.
What the story, will everything turn out fine ?

Don't Leave Your Honey Down The Pits

Words & Music: Abrahall, Blyth, Lomas, Reder

Moonshine Song

Words & Music: Abrahall, Blyth, Lomas, Reder

I grew up in the deep South, and wore dungarees.
We lived in a little shack, and ate bacon grease.
I slept with my sister, and she slept with my pa.
It didn't bother my mother, 'cus we kept him in a jar.

I ain't got no moonshine, I ain't got no wife.
Oh Lord help me, rebuild my life.
Since I was a young boy, travelled far from home.
Oh Lord don't let me die on my own.

I ended up in prison, down in Tennessee.
There were 14 bad dudes, in the cell with me.
I felt so dirty, I felt like a pig.
Got raped in the showers by Mr Big.

Now my life's nearly over, it's been a pain.
And my eyes are getting bad, I didn't see that train.
Now as I lay dying, I hear coyote hoots.
But it's two drunk Indians, and they've stole my boots.