SHADES OF BROWN

MDC - Shades of Brown 12”

1. Shades of Brown [3:18] (words & music - Al Schvitz)
2. Winter of 92' [2:11] (words & music - Al Schvitz)
3. Someone's Behind You Again [2:53] (words - Al Schvitz & Dave Alpert, music - Dave Alpert)
4. This Land [1:39] (words & music - Guthrie & Al Schvitz)
5. Thanks for Giving Me What I Didn't Want [2:15] (words & music - Chris Wilder)
6. Greenwash [3:04] (words & music - Al Schvitz & Chris Wilder)
7. Slow, Stupid and Hungry [1:11] (words & music - Chris Wilder)
8. Hail Satan [3:20] (words & music - Al Schvitz & Chris Wilder)
9. Borrowed Time [3:23] (words - David Dictor, music -
Michael Donaldson)
10. Squat Dogs [1:15] (words & music - Chris Wilder)
11. Welfare Line [2:35] (words & music - Al Schvitz)
12. Spare Change [2:01] (words & music - Barry D’Alive)
13. Real Food, Real People, Real Bullets [3:50] (words & music - Chris Wilder)
14. Long Time Gone [2:13] (words & music - Al Schvitz)
15. Last Train to Castro [2:24] (words - David Dictor, Tommy Boyce & Bobby Hart, music - Tommy Boyce & Bobby Hart)

New Red Archives 1993
(We Bite Records 1993, Germany)

David Dictor vocals                                                                                                               Chris Wilder guitar                                                                                                                    Al Schultz (Schvitz) drums                                                                                                    Erica Liss bass

Original Liner Notes:
This album was recorded/mixed primarily between February and April 1993, with parts done in October 1992.  Engineered by Matt Kelly, Steve Paputsis, and Gary Crieman (GRC) at Hyde Street Studios in San Francisco (MK and GRC) and Music amex in Menlo Park, CA (SP).  Produced by MDC and GRC.
                                                                                                                                             Big Thanks to Charles F. Sullivan our lawyer.  David Ewel our road meister.  Erica thanks & Loves Jill M., David G. and Mom for they know what and more!  Dave loves Mistress, Jonathan, Psyche, Terry, Clinat and Goddess Loving Peoples Everywhere!  MDC. Phew.  Welfare worker . . . Catherine Miller / Knucklehead Chorus on Last Train -- Thanks gang! / Cover Illustration by Mark Tippin based on a concept by Steven Tobakian (Check out Steve’s fantastic book, “
You Don’t Have to Fuck People to Survive” from Pressure Drop Press) / Design by Mark Tippin (Apple Link: Tippin.M, CS: 70412,2022) / Chris uses demonic guitars cuz he made ‘em, and Don Preble’s Ibanez cuz he let him . . . thanks, horsehead.

Al Schvitz wishes to acknowledge the fact that although the particular words and phrases may be his own, the thoughts, wishes and hopes are the product of the collective conscience distilled through my nineteen year friendship with Dave and would not exist without him.

This is not a “SPECIAL THANKS” list . . . and here’s why: We could spend forever thanking all the unbelievable terrific people who’ve: Wrtitten to, carried, lent, worked, believed in, toiled, listetned to , backed, drove around, wrote about, bought beer for, stood behind, gave floor space to, donated hash to, slaved over, unloaded and generally helped us in large and small ways to continue doing what we (and presumably they) believe in, AND, not only would we take up the whole page and misspell everyone’s name, we’d no doubt remember every hoorah, hug, kiss and high-five due to everyone fitting into the above categories!  Whether you just found out about us and bought this record, or you played zither on the the “Multi-Death” EP, obvisously we couldn’t and wouldn’t do it without you, and will continue to do it as long as there are anti-racist, pro-choice, vegetarian, free-thinking, multi-sexual, anti-nazi, environmentally aware, punk-as-fuck, warehouse-squatting, freedom-loving, anti-sexist, government-mistrusting, protest-bound, mohawk-sporting, cop-hating, radical post modern grunge grindcore speed metal Seattle retro crust hippie leftist folks of all ages, and kinds to help us do it!  We’ll se ya’ soon!  MDC 1993

Shades of Brown -
They say the darkest hour is ust before the dawn
In chess, without exception, white moves the first pawn
They called it “Black Tuesday” when the stock market crashed
A fix in 1919 turned the White Sox to Black
Black balled, black magic, executioner’s hood
White hatted, white horsed, champion of good
Black knight of Dark Ages on the darkest night
The Pope walks in truth, head to toe in white

chorus:
Who started all this bullshit - were they looking for a fight?
You didn’t have to be there to know that they were white
But when you’re talking skin tone, let’s not fuck around
Cause no one’s really black or white, we’re all just shades of brown

Black hearted, black beard on the briney deep
Or the family outcast you call the black sheep
Days of black plague - draw your final breath
Heading for heaven white dying of Black Death

Mankind is preoccupied to keep each other down
Some use superstition, a Bible or a crown
At best it’s fear and ignorance, at worst, it’s a sin
Not God and country, king or crown, it’s the pigment of our skin
Used to reinforce what’s wrong or right
It’s really just the presence or absence of light
In the blackest hour of the blackest day
It isn’t mighty white of us, but we gotta say

chorus

White when your marry, black when you die
A racial hierarchy, a festering white lie
White stands for ignorance, pure and sincere
But if you’re talking bigotry it should be crystal clear
The new world becond, the immigrants came
Homogenized their culture, anglicized their names
Then they painted Jesus, blonde with eyes of blue
Not a Nazarene, more a nazi than a Jew
In the black revolution with their Black Power found
Till their leaders were all jailed or stomped into the ground
And the final step ironic - to nail that coffin tight
The powder of enslavement in their glassine bags of white

repeat chorus until this white male power stucture falls

Winter of ‘92 -

Someone’s Behind You Again -

This Land -
This land is your land, this land is my land
From Love Canal to Three Mile Island
From the Livermore labs to the offshore rigs
This land was made for you and me

As I was walking the strip mined valley
Into the city, the piss-soaked alley
I felt kinda sickly, kinda Love-Canal-ly
This land was made or you and me

This land is your land, this land is my land
But tell the truth, man it's call the landlord's land
Wants money in his hand, or he'll call the policeman
This land was made for you and me

This land is your land (well, it's not MY land)
This land is my land (it was once the Indian's land)
From California (where they got smog, man)
To the New York Island (you'll get mugged or murdered)
From the Redwood Forrest (pool decks and patio furniture)
To the Gulf Stream water (hold your nose)
This land was made for you and me

You ask how we can do this to Woody, man
We know he'd understand and mourn the poison land
With head held in dismay at Prince William's death-bay
Our fondest respects to mister G!

Thanks for Giving Me What I Want -
Every November we're told to remember
How Indians and Pilgrims ate turkeys and pumpkins
And thanked God for giving their new way or living
So every year that's what we do!

In October we're told how brave and how bold Christopher Columbus
who discovered and gave us new world to live in
And thanks should be given
So every year that's what we do!

Thanks for giving me what I didn't want

On November eleven we tank all the veterans
For brace men who tried to win wars and died
Without them our country would be run by the Commies
So every year that's what we do!

(chorus)

In giving all his gratitude
I hope you will not think me rude
But I really didn't ask for this
and Chris Columbus isn't missed
And Indians still try to resist
And I am more of a pacifist
So war is quite low on my list
And I rebel with a raised fist
And I insist I'm getting pissed!

Greenwash -

Hail Satan -
People say you're stupid and fat
And your face resembles the ass of a rat
In the schoolyard no one would play
You'd say "Hi" and they'd run away
Your teachers all say you're dumb as shit
Your guidance councilor says you should drop out and quit
But OZZY ain't got nothin' on me

HAIL SATAN!!!!!!!

So now I warn you
You'd better think twice
From here on in don't play nice
Voodoo dolls for you with pins
The world's gonna pya for their sins
For a while I was down on my luck
But now it's me you'd better not fuck
Cause me and LU' are working a spell
Laugh now, cause we'll see you in hell!

HAIL SATAN!!! (c'mon, everyone, sing along!)

Even strangers point and stare
You've had it--you'd better beware
Hide in church and sing your psalm
See my pentagrams on my palms
Better stay and pray with the nuns
We've got you in the sight of our guns
So Sundays, its wafers and wine
Or sign here on the dotted line!

chorus, inexcusably horrid guitar-wanking

Borrowed Time -

Squat Dogs -

Welfare Line -
Oh, the line at the welfare line is way outta line
All the folks in the street, in the cold, in the heat, it's a crime
Looking like a line or mourners stretching down the block and around the corer
Yes, the line at the welfare line is way outta line

Well they say cutting AFDC isn't too race
All those welfare moms getting fat on all that cash
Well, I heard a welfare mother's son say
"When I grow up, I'm gonna get me a gun
and I'm off to Sacramento in a flesh"

Now all the folks who used to call us "welfare bums"
Now are on that line mooching cigarettes and sniffing for crumbs
And as sure as the sky is blue sooner or later it's gonna be me or you
Cause what comes around is familiar when it comes

Now the poorest folks I know, just to eat
Have to short the landlord and not pay the heat
For the crime or being poor
They get a three-day notice and a sheriff at the door
Yeah, the line at the welfare line is way outta line

Oh, the line at the welfare line is way outta line
For a meal or a taste, or a bite, it's a waste of time
For the want of cash to borrow, they'll tell you
"Sorry boy, come back tomorrow,"
In a game designed to drive you out of your mind!

Oh, the line at the welfare line is way outta line
All the folks in the street, in the cold, in the heat, it's a crime
Looking like a like of mourners
Stretching down the block and around the corner
Yes, the line at the welfare line
The line, like the rate of crime
The line, like a creeping vine
Oh, the line at the welfare line is way outta line!

Spare Change -

Real Food, Real People -

Long Time Gone -
I remember a funny man who used to make us laugh
But the proof of his truth--they cut his life in half
A caustic wit that cut a bit--opinions were too strong
He must have rubbed somebody wrong
Cuz he's long time gone

I remember a crucial man--played strat' with his left hand
Tunes he chose of "Gold and Roe" and "Castles Made of Sand"
Social ills--his conscience willed a different type of song
Sang about "lead"--click, BANG! He's dead--he's long time gone

I remember an ebony prince who taught his brothers pride
Said the black man's loss--just another cross on which another prophet has died
Some people wanted them leaderless--a race of hungry pawns
Their solution to his revolution: To make him long time gone

Though some will object when you suspect
That they cause to affect the cause and effect
When you reflect on lives that were checked
Still in retrospect the truth was neglected
Though some will protect the order they pecked
For failing to suspect the cleansing effect
Till you they reject with a Haitian insect
With AIDS they infect by a bite on the neck
Like the Nazi correct--kill and dissect
"The inferior Sect", their race to protect

I remember a gentleman who took his cause so far
Said not to be afraid but to parade and be just what you are
Defied the name of guilt and shame, he proved his skeptics wrong
Must have said something wrong, cuz now he's long time gone

(For Lenny Bruce, Jimi Henrix, Malcolm X, Harvey Milk and all.)

Last Train to Castro -

Shades of Brown

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