In the cheap seats where murder breeds
Somebody runs out of breath
Sleep is a luxury they don’t need
A sneak preview of death
One of my favourite performances from the old grey
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I was unaware of AD - that’s a great album. Interesting that they never seemed to gain much recognition - their sound doesn’t seem far off many other better known bands. Will be exploring more of their oeuvre now, thanks (tho it seems like The Untidy Suicides… is probably their best album?).
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Revenge Fantasies of the Impotent runs it a very close second IMO.
I guess they just peaked at the wrong time, not much market for their style by then.
Yeah, I guess Grunge had taken over at that point.
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On a related note, have you heard Green River - Rehab Doll? It’s interesting, you can hear the punk-grunge transition.
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I have not, something I shall endeavour to correct 
This article does a good job of telling that story through the words of the musicians themselves.
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That’s really interesting, thanks.
You must, post-haste.
I want to lie
Shipwrecked and comatose
Drinking fresh
Mango juice
Goldfish shoals
Nibbling at my toes
Fun, fun, fun
In the sun, sun, sun
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You can save your money cos you’ll never save your looks.
We owe you nothing, you have no control
You are not what you own
Made me think of this
They’re playing in the sun and having fun, fun, fun
Till Daddy takes the gun away
Give him water when he gets thirsty
Give him whisky when he gets dry
Give him a tincture when he gets sickly
Give him the graveyard when he die
Junco Partner
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The smiths
Stop me if you think you’ve heard this one before
I smelt the last ten seconds of life
I crashed down on the crossbar
And the pain was enough to make a shy, bald, Buddhist reflect
And plan a mass murder
Does that explain Morrissey?
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Nothing can explain Morrissey 
?
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And someone says, “You’re in the wrong place, my friend, you better leave”
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Soup is good food (we don’t need you any more)
You made a good meal (we don’t need you any more)
Now how does it feel (we don’t need you any more)
To be shit out our ass
And thrown in the cold like a piece of trash
Don’t talk to me I’m malting