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"You'll never believe the mess I'm in; I've got to fight and I've got to win; You'll never believe the mess I'm in; Dislocate me, desecrate me, masturbate me, celebrate me" (From Scumsberg)
Those few times I read song lyrics, I wonder if it was the right choice. Certainly, Raymond Watts is a wise man. A Londoner with a fine appearance, he collaborated with the German KMFDM from the early Eighties and worked as a sound technician with major names in industrial music like the masters Einstürzende Neubauten, Foetus, and later, the Nine Inch Nails.
Only at the end of the decade did he create his own group, the musical project PIG, of which he is the sole member. "A Poke in the Eye... With a Sharp Stick", released in 1988, is the first album in a twenty-year career under this name.
Relatively little known, Watts proves to be an industrial music author slightly below the indispensable names of the genre, with a strong personal identity. Watts manages to carve out a niche of aurea mediocritas between the two derivatives of genres related to industrial: his pieces are catchy and easy to listen to, but never too melodic or with cloying choruses. The clean singing is more mischievous than aggressive and remains consistently unsettling; electronic melodies are accompanied by pounding industrial percussion. The song form is never subverted and cacophony is never resorted to, but cheerfully whistling the present melodies would require a great dose of a sense of humor.
Particular deviations in one of the two directions are found in isolated tracks: many perverted and singable nursery rhymes are often reduced to mere entertainment, which our protagonist does not disdain at all; the more strictly industrial chaotic digressions are instead left at the end of the record. The songs are all of good quality, never confused or too similar to each other; they are easy to listen to and remember without being banal. The most arrogant One for the Neck is counterbalanced by the aggressive and dark Shit for Brains, and the carefree German chant of Hindelinde is accompanied by the seven minutes of industrial obsessions of Peoria.
We are faced with a mockingly and sarcastically entertaining album that cynically mocks the catchy choruses of the most gaudy easy-listening and offers numerous nods to the more traditional and chaotic industrial music, yet as previously mentioned, it is very easy to listen to and appreciate.
It is not something groundbreaking, but it certainly deserves a listen if you even just dabble in industrial. I don't think I'm making too grave of a statement if I say that we are dealing with a sort of Marilyn Manson who doesn't need to resort to theatrical antics and doesn't want to involve a young and unprepared audience, although it is perfectly accessible even to many youthful novices.
Balanced, mocking, and without commercial pretenses, this is probably why very few pay attention to it.
Tracklist Lyrics and Videos
02 Scumsberg (03:57)
I know, I live off things you give
Eighteen carrots, what does it take?
Come on girl, make my day
Dislocate me, desecrate me, masturbate me, celebrate me
I've got to fight and I've got to win
You'll never believe this mess I'm in
I've got to fight and I've got to win
You'll never believe the mess I'm in
She like fighting and she likes war
Come on everybody, lets do it some more
With a slug in the mug, mace in my face
Racisct thug, what a disgrace
Ghetto, rape, no escape
They put you down and bait, bait, bait
She like fighting and she likes war
Come on everybody, lets do it some more
You know I like everything about you
The way you're talking, it's quite exciting
Keep me up, hide my face
The way I'm eating, it's a social disgrace
There's a place we can rock all night
Nobobdy's gonna catch you, get a fright
Fighting on a price, sitting on a stump
Someone's gonna get you they thump, thump, thump
Twenty one babies for myself
Crawling up on my back
I've got to fight and I've got to win
You'll never believe the mess I'm in
I've got to fight and I've got to win
You'll never believe the mess I'm in
Dislocate me, desecrate me, masturbate me, celebrate me
I've got to fight and I've got to win
You'll never believe this mess I'm in
I've got to fight and I've got to win
You'll never believe the mess I'm in
Mess it up!
07 Shit for Brains (04:36)
Sitting in my box, waiting for you
I peep through the slits and I feel myself
Breathing tight, I'm getting hard
But it's nice and dark for the things that I do
I sweat in my cassock
When I hear you words
Tell your sins to me I will absolve thee
I run a peep show beat
Where I can beat my meat
When I see your dressing
I get to messing
Shit for brains, piss in my pants
I rape and contain the whole human race
I'm your heavenly host, the Holy Ghost
The hand of god and the stick of saints
I'm a man who's sick but I got class
I'm going to heaven with my lickin' ass
Shit for brains, piss in my pants
I rape and contain my catholic domain
Sticks and stones break my bones
Your words just crucify me
Heaven up above has a glorious god
I'd really rather have you right where I want
Right on the front full of my gunk
I slide up behind heaven in my mind
In my dreams I always whipped you
Then I stripped you
I ripped you down to my scripture
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