October 20, 2011 by cosmoakacitizensmith
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This track has been the hardest to nail down, recording-wise. Finally managed it in this morning’s caffeine rush.
Marco was a bit of a wag, or so I thought when I knew him. He got involved in South Wales Anarchists at the end of the summer of 2005. We were all a bit shell shocked, having been at the G8 mobilisations in Scotland where lots of us got nicked. (We managed to stop the G8 meeting, though, and I wrote a blog of my experiences here).
What we didn’t realise was that Marco was an undercover cop. He bedded down in the organisation and then disappeared in 2009, supposedly off to Corfu to work. We never heard hide nor hair of him again. A while after he’d gone, the group pieced together that he’d probably been undercover but we had no hard evidence to back it up. Then the Guardian outed several deep cover cops that had penetrated the wider UK anarchist/environmental movement. One thing led to another and we were finally able to make a public statement about it last year
The whole outing of deep cover cops has provoked all kinds of reactions from the anarchist community: howls of anger, outrage and defiance; arguments about the best way to deal with what had happened, then legal manoeuvrings to see if the police can be prosecuted for their disproportionate actions. This track is not about any of these things. It’s about picking over the bones of it from a personal perspective, with all the cold betrayal that went down. The perspective is not necessarily my own, and the cop in there is not necessarily anyone I have known. I’ve tried to build a composite picture.
The one thing I remember about Marco was his humour. Here was an apparently bone fide working class geezer who drove trucks for a living. Cue bonding over beers about wussy middle class tossers playing at activism. But, Marco if you’re reading this, I aint no prole. I’m actually an lapsed East European aristocrat who slums it amongst the middle classes. Littlejohn would LOVE me.
Had you there, you f@cking c%@£.
Since I heard the news I’ve had pictures in my mind’s eye
Like that time we got high before that action near Ross-On-Wye
Up all night, talking shyte like: “Let’s dynamite this pipe!”
But that was before you dumped on us from a great height
Sometimes I feel naive, you know I should’ve thought
Like, how come it was you sorting out transport?
Always on the case, always having cash to splash
But when trouble came you’d hang back or off you’d dash
Other times we were down, completely thick as thieves
Let’s cure this disease, bring the system to its knees
Laughing at those kids who were straight out of uni
You said they talk about oppression but they’re privileged and puny
What the hell would they know what activism is?
A lot more than you mate, and you wrote ‘em off as kids
They put themselves on the line, think outside their good fortune
But you’re paid by the piper and dance to a bought tune
Deep cover – that’s what you are, that’s what you always were
The fact hits me like brute force, my head’s a total blur
Passing information about all the group’s activities
No wonder we were pigged those times, stands to reason, now I see
So who were your paymasters? Cops or corporate interests?
Did you feel you were doing what was best? Ah, what a fucking jest….
After all the pain and the heartache you inflicted
What would you know about right and wrong? You’re so conflicted.
Faking entire friendships, that must take some doing
Not to mention all those comrades you were screwing
How do you think they feel, or don’t you care at all?
I hope you’re squalling in your de-brief, feeling messed up, pathetic and small
My mind’s doing backflips stay clear I’m right skitz
If I see you I’m gonna have a total fit
Or maybe kick the wall or maybe start to cry
And make you look me in the eyes and tell me WHY???
I don’t care about the divisions that you exacerbated
The shit you stirred up constantly, the conflicts you created
I don’t care about the things you know, the intel that you passed
The stuff that left us compromised because you’d gone and grassed
I don’t care about your sick mother cos she never existed
Like your friends from home we never met, how fucking twisted?
I don’t care you know my dark side and my taste in drugs and ladies
I don’t care about your double life, cos mate you’re dead to me
You can’t stop this tidal wave that cresting as I speak
It comes from deep within me and a place you cannot reach
You can’t stop it manifesting though you think you might
You could f@cking kill me but that wouldn’t end the fight
You can’t stop awareness, it’s spreading round the globe
Questioning this system while you just snoop and probe
You can’t stop people acting up to find their own solutions
You can’t stop this revolutionary nor stop this revolution