Discharge - State Violence State Control

DISCHARGE - 

STATE VIOLENCE STATE CONTROL

When it came to knowing where to vent their spleen there were no such worries for Discharge, who with their next record release still knew exactly where to aim and in doing so were continuing on their course of aurally pleasuring their very sizeable audience.

State Violence State Control, with its restrained, heavy Punk groove and extended guitar solos saw Discharge stepping slightly away from their normal shredding chainsaw approach though Cal's words were as precise and succinct as ever: "Kept in line by truncheons, rifle butts and truncheons - this is State control."

Regardless of what their critics might say, with each new record Discharge had released there had been a steady musical progression, for many people the zenith being the single Decontrol and the album Hear Nothing, See Nothing, Say Nothing. Having created a whole new Punk genre, however, the question would sooner or later arise asking 'Where now? What now?'

State Violence State Control was a hint as to which direction the band might eventually head. That direction in the end would turn out to be Heavy Metal and would prove ultimately and unfortunately to be their undoing. For some, there might only be a thin line between Punk and Heavy Metal but for others it's a chasm they're just not willing to leap. This would be the bitter lesson that Discharge would one day learn.

Lyrically, Cal had basically said all he really needed to say. He had said it all. State Violence State Control would arguably be the last great Discharge record but their influence and their legacy would go on and on forever.

Discharge - Hear Nothing, See Nothing, Say Nothing

DISCHARGE -

HEAR NOTHING, SEE NOTHING,
SAY NOTHING

Because the Falklands war was over so quickly very few artists (and Crass would include themselves in this) could react or respond to it properly at the time. The most well-known song regarding the war - Shipbuilding by Robert Wyatt - for example, wasn't even released until the following year. There could be few finer ripostes to war in general, however, than a Discharge record and as chance would have it their début album Hear Nothing, See Nothing, Say Nothing was released right in the middle of the Falklands conflict.

Clocking in at just over 27 minutes and containing 14 tracks, as might well have been expected this was Discharge at the height of their powers. To the close-minded, of course, it was nothing more than a tuneless racket but if the truth be told it was even more than just a bona fide classic album - it was an experience.

From the first preliminary beat of the drums and the first full-throttle leap into the sonic inferno, the same relentless and intense pace is maintained throughout until without any frills it comes to a sudden halt leaving the listener in a void of silence.

In the hands of most other bands, a whole album like this may have proved to be boring in the extreme. Discharge, however, had created something quite remarkable that could be interpreted in a number of ways. Musically, each track was an almighty rush of absolute power, blasting through time and space at incredible speed. An unstoppable force moving ever forward into the future. The paradox being that according to Cal's lyrics there was no future, only "A smouldering wilderness, millions dead and dying, mass death and destruction."

Alternatively, each track was a tornado of noise, swirling at an incredible velocity through the firmament. A hurtling maelstrom of ferocious sound throwing out huge electric arcs in the form of breakneck guitar solos. At its eye, again Cal, screaming in anguish: "Lied to, threatened, cheated and deceived... For how long do we tolerate these fools drunk with power?... And still men and women drag out there lives in misery. The nightmare continues... Kept in line with rifle butts and truncheons. Beaten up behind closed doors..."

Or maybe each track was just an absolute storm of pure noise, fittingly apocalyptic, destroying itself through its own sheer force? Cal, raging against the dying light: "The savage mutilation of the human race is set on course. It's up to us to change that course. Protest and survive! Protest and survive!... Free speech for the dumb! Free speech for the dumb!"

Midway through the album, the relentless sound is broken briefly by a snatch of sampled documentary commentary laced with the cries and screams of men, women and children. Rather than being a distraction from the overall Discharge experience it instead serves to accentuate the subject matter: "At seven tenths of a millisecond after the explosion and at a distance of 60 miles, the light from the fireball of a single megaton thermo-nuclear device is 30 times brighter than the mid-day sun. This little boy has received severe retinal burns from an explosion 27 miles away. The blast wave from a thermo-nuclear explosion has been likened to an enormous door slamming in the depths of Hell." This being the cue for Discharge to explode into another sonic inferno with Cal again screaming at the centre: "Can you hear the sound of an enormous door slamming in the depths of Hell? The possibility of life's destruction. Can you hear the cries of pain, the mournful sound? The possibility of life's destruction."

If only Thatcher could have heard this record, would she have been moved by it in any way at all? Would she have recognised it as the template for a style of music that would be much emulated by groups around the world for years to come? Would she have considered it to be some sort of threat to civil society and sought to have it banned? Would she have quite liked it, actually? Would she have thought it better than I'm In Love With Margaret Thatcher by The Notsensibles? Or perhaps she would have preferred and be more of a fan of the Subhumans, who coincidentally also had a new record released during the period of the Falklands war?

Discharge - Never Again

DISCHARGE - NEVER AGAIN

And then there was Never Again, the fourth single from Discharge, ripping through anything that might dare stand in its way. Built around an incredibly good guitar riff of Motorhead-sized proportions, fluid bass and frenzied drumming; vocalist Cal was once again serving up a vision of the horror of nuclear war along with a chorus so simple yet none more appropriate: "A blinding light, winds and firestorms, agonised crying. Unanswered cries of help, panic and desperation. Dazed and stricken survivors search for lost families. Choking dust, crazy with thirst, drinking from poisoned pools and streams. Never, never, never again. Never, never, never again."

Discharge, it seemed, could do no wrong.

Discharge - Why

DISCHARGE - WHY

Whether or not there was a corpse in the mouth of Cal, lead vocalist of Discharge, was negligible. What was certainly true, however, was that there were plenty of corpses in his dreams and visions - and subsequently in his lyrics.

Snapping at the heels of their three classic singles, Why was Discharge's first foray into 12" vinyl territory and though it may well have suggested to some that they were perhaps a one trick pony; what a mighty, thoroughbred, uncastrated stallion of a pony it was.

Consisting of nine brilliant slabs of roaring Punk intensity, Why was the sound of the anti-war/CND/peace movement being dragged completely away from the trappings of the 1960s into the ugly reality of the 1980s. Combining once again Cal's haiku-like lyrics with the sonic violence of the music, taken as a whole, Discharge had forged a quite astonishing Zen-Punk-like experience:

"My head is filled with fear of war, fear and threat of war. Horrific disturbing visions of war fill my head. Among the maimed and slaughtered my body lies... I look out my window to a blinding bright light, Enola passes, passes by. Hysterical men, women and children run in search of their families. Skin is shed like that of snakes but it's not the work of mother nature. Tomorrow, tomorrow, a look at tomorrow... Besides her man she kneels, holds him tight and begins to cry. Her loved one's just another piece of meat on the battlefield. Why, why, why but why... Men, women and children cry and scream in pain, wounded by bomb splinters. Streets littered with maimed and slaughtered, in rigid pathetic heaps... In order to satisfy their mania for conquest, lives are squandered... Scorched earth is all that's left where trees and flowers once grew. Nothing left but wasteland littered with human flesh and bone... Sounds of distant aircraft get louder. Men, women and children flee from the open in search of safety. A woman breaks down and cries, her child is left playing in the street - massacre of innocence... Why, why, why but why..."

Could there be any better way of conveying such thoughts other than through harsh blasts of furious noise? What Discharge had created was the almost perfect vehicle for such anger and horror that in time would be much copied but never bettered.

Whilst the focus of Why was rightly upon the subject of war, two songs that stood out from the set dealt with wholly different topics. On the track Does This System Work?, that very simple question is posed along with a very brief example of why the answer might be in the negative: "Men and women, young and old, out on the streets homeless. In plastic bags they carry their homes, clothes in rags they walk the streets. In bins they search for the odd dog end, the odd dog end and food. Does this system work?"

It was enough to make you wonder, at least.

The other song - and probably the best track on the record - entitled Ain't No Feeble Bastard, turns their noise into an immediate and in-your-face proclamation of empowering defiance: "Ain't no feeble bastard that has no say, I say what I think not what they want me to think. Ain't no feeble bastard, no fucking scapegoat."

This was the kind of song that if heard by any parent being sung by their children might make them slightly worried. The kind of song that if heard by your average Daily Mail reader might make them fearful as to what was becoming of the younger generation.

In truth, however, all the songs on Why were extremely positive and life-affirming. All, in actual fact, very sane responses to an insane situation. "The voice of common sense has to be heard, for man is an endangered species," said Cal in Discharge's first and only interview with the NME "Throughout the world, peace and anti-war movements are blossoming as never before. We each have a contribution to make."

The times were harsh and the harshness of Discharge was reflecting this perfectly. 

This was unlistenable music for unliveable times.

Unrelenting and unpretentious.

Discharge

DISCHARGE

Like Britain, the once broad church that was Punk was also fragmenting and splintering into different factions with a wave of new Punk bands emerging, many with a totally unique slant on the form.

From London came the Cockney Rejects with their street-tough/football terrace anthems, introducing themselves to the world with a cry of "Freedom? There ain't no fucking freedom!" From Edinburgh came the Exploited, epitomising the bondage-trousered/mohawked branch of Punk but with accompanying dumbed-down lyrics. From Derby came Anti-Pasti, arriving with their classic EP, Four Sore Points, containing the songs No Government ("Brew your own it's about to ferment, no Maggie Thatcher and no government") and Two Years Too Late; the latter song having been 'borrowed' from The Epileptics who had last been seen being bottled by bikers at the Stonehenge festival. From Bristol came Vice Squad with vocalist Beki Bondage, who apart from being awarded the dubious title of 'Punk pin-up' was one of the first people in Punk to talk about animal rights. And from Stoke-on-Trent came Discharge who by revving up their guitars to such an intense degree, by accident rather than design created a whole new Punk genre.

With the release of three seminal 7" EPs throughout 1980, Discharge tapped into an unspoken frustration being felt not only by Punk Rockers but by people far beyond the Punk demographic.

Realities Of War, the first EP, served as an introduction to the band, causing a good many people to prick up their ears. Influenced and obviously born from the Sex Pistols/Clash/Damned axis, Discharge seemed to be reducing Punk into a much purer form.

By the time of their second EP, Fight Back, the process was complete and the resulting sound was spectacular. Jettisoning all frills, speeding up to a startling degree, inserting the briefest of guitar solos and entering a whole new sonic dimension, Discharge had captured in sound a moment in time and history of great importance. Like the moment just before the dawn when the world can either be re-born or come totally crashing down. Claiming to be anti-war, anti-government, anti-system, anti-press and anti-fame, Discharge were on the side of the angels.

Shouted and screamed out by enigmatic vocalist Cal, Discharge lyrics were perfect pearls of haiku-like wisdom: "They're always there with their restrictions, always there to put you down. Anarchy's the only solution now. Smash to fuck the fucking system... It's a messed up, fucked up fucking system... Government and Queen are your only enemies, don't be fooled by their plastic smiles. They want you kept in the darkness of the realities of war. Meat flung yards apart from bodies are typical sights of war. War's no fairytale, guns and bombs aren't fucking toys... Stand up, fight for freedom, stand up, fight for your rights. Fight the system - fight back... Realism's what we're preaching, are you really so afraid?... "

With Decontrol, their third release, their legacy as them being one of the most unique and consequently influential Punk bands of all time was sealed: "They fill you up with their fucking lies, you're the victim of government schemes. They take liberties they've no right to take and you're led to believe they're oh so right."

Though operating in the same Punk Rock sphere as Crass, Discharge were showing that there was more than one way of getting a point of view across. To many, however, the music that Discharge were creating was an even more impenetrable racket than that which Crass were making but even if the words were hard to decipher there was no denying the energy and the gut-level anger that Discharge were exuding: "They only show concern when war's declared cos you're their power and glory. This whole affair's so fucking unfair, it's so fucking sick."

Up to that point in time, Decontrol was their longest recorded song - taking up a whole side of a 7" single - and there's an argument for it also being their most important song due if only to the one line: "Decontrol! Decontrol! We've been shit on for far too long."

Screamed out over a speeding storm of electric Punk power, those few words seemed to echo what a good many people were feeling and though not their natural audience, particularly among ethnic minorities within the inner cities...