No Thank You For The Music

Frank TurnerFrank Turner 

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Frank Turner

Frank Turner (born 28 December 1981) is an Englishfolk/punk singer-songwriter from Meonstoke, Winchester. Initially the vocalist of post-hardcore band Million Dead, Turner embarked upon a primarily acoustic-based solo career following the band's split in 2005. To date, Turner has released four solo albums, two rarities compilation albums and four EPs. Turner began recording for his new album England Keep My Bones, in January 2011. It was released on 6 June 2011 in the UK, and 7 June 2011 worldwide. more »

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I don't want to be in
Any gang that you're in
I refuse to take part
In gatekeeping people's art

Now I'm surprised to report that as I enter my 40s
I've returned to being an angry man
I can see clearly now that the drugs wore off
Some kinds of music just aren't part of the plan
But through computer malfunctions and rare grudging concessions
We occasionally broke into the house
Just because trouble like us comes a-calling
Doesn't mean that was a place to sit down

No thank you for the music
That seamlessly fits into the plan
The sound of a culture that gave up on pretending
It was anything more than a scam and

I don't want to be in
Any gang that you're in
I refuse to take part
In gatekeeping people's art

Now I wouldn't give a f*ck about about the style cartel
If it wasn't for their wider pretensions
To represent some kind of authoritative voice
On value in the cultural dimension
But my rejection of the systematic fleecing of the underground
Can be more easily put
Bees shouldn't waste their time telling flies
That honey tastes better than shit

No thank you for the music
That seamlessly fits into the plan
The sound of a culture that gave up on pretending
It was anything more than a scam
No thank you for the music
That effortlessly fits the aesthetic
The sound of a culture that's resigned to its art
Being little more than an anesthetic

And I didn't give a shit about where I could sit
In the cafeteria at my school
And now that I'm grown I'm not about to condone
Paying attention to what's supposed to be cool
And the effort that you poured into trying to look bored
Of yourself just makes you look like a fool
And as for all the hangers on the desperate and badly drawn
All the fair-weather forgettables, the cowardly contemptibles
No thank you, no thank you
No thank you, no thank you
No thank you, no thank you
No thank you

Coming out of the game my teeth are too long
Here's hoping that the kids have fangs
To chew their way through this little gordian knot
And leave the gatekeepers to go hang
I don't want to be in your gang
I don't want to be in your gang
I don't want to be in your gang
I don't want to be in your gang
I don't want to be in your gang
I don't want to be in your gang
I don't want to be in your gang
I don't want to be in your gang
I never did

I never did

I don't want to be in
Any gang that you're in
I refuse to take part
In gatekeeping people's art

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