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The Binary Order

by Michael O'Neill

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1.
Bleak northern roads Hold autumn dawn raids Street level dealers In cuffs on parade A short show of strength About 2 hours in length Will fix monthly figures That have risen by a tenth Does nothing for relations In the concrete reservations Where the big picture is bypassed For small time violations Economic Stimulation Needs a drug trading nation And 10 billion pounds Is a lot for consideration For the corpses in Whitehall Where money makes the real call Legislate accordingly Then hide behind a brick wall A visible success Or so the newsreel suggests The truth gets constructed And the disparate accepts A narrative that is set By a powerbase corrupt Back scratching bureaucrats Let nothing interrupt The abuse of civilians In pursuit of more wealth A subtle form of slavery By the cold hand of stealth The dark side of progress Ghost town logistics No state investment Just corporate dialectics Chewed up and spat out Targeted and watched Retained only for the benefit Of a system that is locked By politics and law There is a war upon the poor And the impacts of the 80’s Is only just through the door We got social mobility For those with the ability So far from reality It’s a joke in the ministry Who Mediate reaction And play down the impact Who introduce a threat The cement it with playback Reinforced repeated Occupied and cheated 24 / 7 Until the truth is deleted
2.
One Rule 05:23
The educated are useless There’s nothing on the line they couldn’t care less There not in the trenches with me and you And they don’t see the horror show that we do Comfort in careers won’t change this Realign the way that we define progress Medicated nation at the mercy Of big business where’s the controversy Can’t rely on politics it unfit Get the money out and then we might change it Corrupt it doesn’t do what it’s supposed to Serve the people not just the elite few One rule for us Another one for them Who are they to condemn One rule for us Another one for them Relegate the diadem One rule for us Another one for them Who are they to condemn One rule for us Another one for them Relegate the diadem They’re leading on the back foot too scared To tackle that power base power doesn’t care For planet or for people they benefit From the fact that were unequal Debt apartheid we pay all the interest Why the banks don’t doesn’t really make sense State bailout now we it’s really bent When they gamble without consequence or consent One rule for us Another one for them Who are they to condemn One rule for us Another one for them Relegate the diadem One rule for us Another one for them Who are they to condemn One rule for us Another one for them Relegate the diadem
3.
Race Running at a breakneck pace Don’t look back Don’t look into the face you Blame Things are never gonna be the same Wipe that thought don’t Lose it in a vein or a Nose Not the first caught in the throes Of a toxic culture Trying to recompose and get Past You knew it could never really last Stop right now take a breath Stand back Keep face But you know it’s a fall from grace Ten foot tall then it put you in your place On your back Now it’s just an all-out attack Count one two three smile cover up the crack With a drink Anything at all to stop you think Endless front and you know its doublethink As you drift Hoping that the cloud might lift Reified lost life Far from a gift right now Race Running at a breakneck pace Don’t look back Don’t look into the face you Blame Things are never gonna be the same Wipe that thought don’t Turn in to the ghost of a Fraud Scared of the scorn getting poured So you run like a sheep with the flock But your bored of the race And always feeling bang out of place Fuck this front Fuck putting on a face For what? Head case You could disappear without a trace Can’t face up can’t Fill the suitcase Just yet Feels like you only just met Time just goes and never gets set When you’re high Got to do it all before you die No dead time no closing of the eye(s) It’s a waste Everything your never gonna taste Fuck that memory Leave it in its place in the Past
4.
Your Cultural Capital Dwarves mine like a giant You’re a freelance artist Who’s still trust fund reliant I’m intimidated by your intellect And your air of sophistication Your levels of self-control And splendid articulation You collect rare vinyl And read philosophical books Your wardrobes worth thousands To compliment your looks You drink in hip establishments With like-minded chameleons A classless set of liberals Hiding right wing opinions You say what’s expected In every single situation You’re dishonest but you’re perfect For successful integration You smile and you tell everyone That there work is great You call this networking And think you’re being straight You scale the social ladder With a strong first impression A second natured ease And appropriate discretion Synthetic relationships With an air of prostitution It’s public image maintenance With your made up constitution Your drug taking casual And always recreational Then your daddy pays for rehab When you’re no longer functional Your command of the queen’s English Is a mark of your intelligence But your perfect execution Lacks content and relevance
5.
Skeleton convention Deadly pain retention In critical condition And she ain’t got no answers Paranoid from powder And waking every hour Cultured but useless The delegation’s twisted Suffocate the senses Everyone’s a target Overload consumption A biblical derangement Undercut the mason The corporation psycho Terrorise till empty Then moulded with a mystic Death by distraction Death by distraction Death by distraction Death by distraction Terrible Intention And no road to redemption Typical of human And there’s only one conclusion Surgical removal Got met with disillusion Cynical in nature The creature has no master Celebrate a saviour To regulate behaviour Delinquent Who taught it It’s too late to abort it Terminal Believer He knew one day he’d need her Deluded disgusted Now no one can be trusted Death by distraction Death by distraction Death by distraction Death by distraction Death by attraction Death by attraction
6.
Four white male no marks All dressed up for glory Feather cuts and postures With a very bland story Its music as a career choice Supported by a trust fund Its fine-tuned banality The liberty of the privileged Reproduce the reproduction Reinforcing ‘life as it is’ Familiar sounds and images Conceal what it really is A cover band ticking boxes jumping through Hoops that are set by the industry Suffocated by an art form and And the blueprints from its history 4 Chords and no offence A fake attitude and confidence Worked on with the label, who are Concerned to hide their affluence With lyrics that allude to nothing And a self-conscious delivery The proof is in the pudding It’s a band that trades on mimickery Familiar sounds of the 60’s A bit of post punk a bit of psych But when the market shifts They’re reshaped to be more alike Its orchestrated entertainment Mass produced for profit Supporting an ideology Of produce consume then drop it So know we living in reruns Where PR teams make magic Based on market research Like a science so very tragic Be absorbed or be excluded It’s not art but entertainment It’s a mass indoctrination We are cheated on engagement Y’know what I’ve had enough of this avant-garde shit
7.
He was known locally As the alcoholic priest After sermons on Sundays He’d head straight to a brothel Using parish collection money To fund his alcohol addiction On four or five bottles Of single malt a week Not even seven am And sweating like a marathon runner Jimmy walks three and a half miles Just to keep the curtains drawn Straight down Elizabeth Street Right across and through the park Knocking on the dark door Of Chris the pharmacist Widow of a drug dealer Recently deceased She’s got everything need If escape is what you want Cook it up quick Keep the wolf from the door This is modern industry The only one around here Cook it up quick Keep the wolf from the door This is modern industry The only one around here Jane talks to herself When there’s no else around Long term day release Both her kids are in care Victim of economics She fell pregnant in her teens Before a violent former boyfriend Tried to burn the house down A twelve month relationship Of sex drugs and crime Left her with an addiction Two kids and broken Cook it up quick Keep the wolf from the door This is Modern industry The only one around here Cook it up quick Keep the wolf from the door This is Modern industry The only one around here
8.
Citizen 107 04:10
Catastrophic Wake up To Beauracratic Bleep Penniless and thoughtless The world is dead asleep Centercom sees everything Careful what you do Citizen 107 We’re addressing you State control by default A democratic mask Be careful who you talk to And careful what you ask Show it what it is not Answer with a question Take it as a compliment When you suffer their rejection Centercom sees everything Careful what you do Citizen 107 We’re addressing you Centercom sees everything Careful what you do Citizen 107 We’re addressing you Craving sex with Skeletons At the chemical Pinnacle Face Operations Looking 16 when you’re 60 Tight tight T-shirts Arms defying gravity Abnormal muscle And faceless interactions Internet Ejaculations And coffee shop mantra’s Upper class ambition All weightless and privileged Personality shopping All choice is manufactured Working just to fine dine On expensive dead animals Pornographic Prisons Civilised by bodies Embryonic lifelines Find them in the MARGINS
9.
Insecure subordinate And self-policed to fear The potential consequences If he does no adhere To the Rules and the regulations Of the institute he serves He carries on regardless Of all the filth that he observes Insecure subordinate And bullied by a structure A system of inconsequence With minimal disrupture Agency is outlawed The ritual is all And language no reflection For a life behind a wall Insecure Subordinate Completely overcome No time left to realise To reflect on what’s become Every voice incorporates The dialectic mist It’s a nightmare in the daytime And pointless to resist Insecure subordinate And self-policed to fear The potential consequences If he does no adhere To the Rules and the regulations Of the institute he serves He carries on regardless Of all the filth that he observes Disco lit euphoria A nightmare though and through It’s a cultural placebo Constructed to subdue
10.
Fuck the history of Rock and Roll With its self-defeating nostalgia Retro fetish cycles And comparisons to Icons Glorified drug addicts And self-obsessed no marks Only given status By a passive pack of idiots Saddled with fear and sent out to labour Perpetually presented with a brand new saviour Change comes from the ground up don’t you know That man is a Charlatan! Quite happy to be a weirdo In a culture full of normals Cerebral Hygiene The only way to combat the mind games Culture being used To pervert our state of consciousness Omadorns and Idiots Line up to amplify the ignorance Pregnant with contempt And ready to give birth Can’t lose Cause there are no rules No supreme beings Just equals and tools The advert should actually read Must be a team player But willing… . . . To fuck over your team mates Self-reflection will get you nowhere mate We measure life in metric Questions will get you nowhere mate We measure life in numbers Percentages Targets Success Rates And Quotas Production Consumption Growth And Efficiency Care for social etiquette Like I care for central government After a hard day avoiding all forms of social interaction And official forms of public life I like to return home And masturbate over house plants Whilst listening to Whats the Story Morning Glory Cranked up to 10 Alternatively I like to use split screen stimulation Group sex and European Philosophy A psychological association that is so strong That I now ejaculate at the very sound of Herbert Marcuse’s voice There is no you There is no me There is no I We are each about as unique as a Jaffa Cake In a world full of Jaffa Cakes
11.
It Burns 05:55
He needed constant recognition Just to feel good about himself The ego had landed And it needed Feeding A very costly confidence He went straight for the jugular All eggs in one basket Ready for the market A coma at the crossroads Still every bill got paid Who took the investment? And who got betrayed? Build the Insular world Then cut off the outside one The Act of Removal And the incest that ensued The Train caught up with him And he called out for his Mother The infant was an astronaut And the Imprint was terminal The contract got honoured But only after threats His influence was co-owned By a man named Flu Eric This is the crossroads Where all things go down The Wall St of Soul The doors out of purgatory Concrete stories From a concrete existence Worked right to the bone The hours seem so terminal A signature on the document And a noose around the neck Cold sweats and insomnia Visions, possibilities and regrets Every face had a mask No detail unexplored No real names were being used There was nothing on the walls A symbol of agreement With shadows all of its own Every thought from this point on Molested by a handshake Found the body freezing In the decomposing air Throttled by a wish But the handshake didn’t care (Outro) Be careful what you wish for And who informs your wishes If you dream of a dystopia That’s exactly what you’ll get DO NOT LET THE SPECTACLE SPECULATE ON YOU

about

Michael O’Neill – ‘The Binary Order’ (Fuck Punk Records)

"Chewed up and spat out, targeted and watched."
Surplus labour piles up in concrete reservations. The veneer of democracy is fading fast. Confusion reigns. Our subjection to the economy’s ravenous death drive is eased and obscured by Silicon Valley soma, street drugs and the media’s trivialising babble. Pop music’s part of the distraction, of course, but it doesn’t have to be.

‘Binary Order’ is the debut album from Michael O’Neill, a child of Irish immigrants born and raised in North Manchester. A polemic on culture, class and society, ‘The Binary Order’ is fiercely political and musically infectious.

“I’ve had enough of this avant-garde shit”

O’Neill can rant like a Mancunian Mark Stewart when it suits him, but he’s a fine storyteller too. Privileged social butterflies, desperate addicts, vapid pop stars, and frazzled info-workers pass by in vivid character sketches. Lead track ‘One Rule’ is an anthem for the dispossessed millions – the clear-eyed urgency of its chorus contrasts bitterly with samples of a royal correspondent, fawning abjectly.

Originally the frontman of The Sonar Yen, Michael O’Neill has since collaborated with cult heroes Gnod, contributing lyrics and vocals to the acclaimed albums ‘Full Moon Ritual’ (2010) and ‘Infinity Machines’ (2014). He released the compellingly raw ‘Michael O’Neill’ EP on their Tesla Tapes imprint in 2013 before Bristol label Fuck Punk (run by Young Echo members Ossia and Vessel) approached him to make the album that would become ‘The Binary Order’.

Produced by Sam Weaver (Hungryghost / Charles Hayward) with O’Neill, and additional input from electro-acoustic composer Danny Saul (‘Beowulf’ / ‘The Last Kingdom’), the album’s visionary production combines hip-hop swagger with clattering dub and cleansing acid. Its surgical hooks, unflinching lyrics and moments of sonic chaos will appeal to fans of Public Enemy, Run The Jewels, Sleaford Mods and The Bug. Dramatic, pacey and possessed of an irresistible narrative flow, you’ll be lucky to hear anything as bracing in 2019.

Adam Burrows March 2019
‘The Binary Order’ is released through Fuckpunk Records

credits

released April 11, 2019

All songs written by Michael O'Neill
Produced by Sam Weaver with Michael O'Neill
Additional Audio Courtesy of Danny Saul
Vinyl LP available here: rwdfwd.com/products/michael-oneill-the-binary-order/

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Michael O'Neill Manchester, UK

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