Where it all began: CrackTown's first foray into butchering their own music as opposed to having the works of David Bowie or Hawkwind spread-eagled upon the obsidian slab of their Aztec Temple of incompetence.  For what it's worth, it's about celebrity culture in general.

Charlton Heston

Lost love, heartache, and a dollop of racist S&M role-play: surely THESE are the ingredients for a moving ballad that will echo down the ages?  They'd better be; if they're not, all we can do is cover "The Power Of Love" badly...

My Nazi Girl

What would a relationship be without guilt, cats and kittens?  Casual fucking; that's what.
This is a painful examination of those moments where one feels one's let one's soul-mate down something rotten - and even an unwashed tea-cup can make one feel like the biggest shit to ever clog up Society's drain.

Boudoir Prison Blues

A song of pain and the dying of the light written by one man recently ripped screaming from his twenties, and one man who was practically born dead on the inside.  Just for fun, try and guess which one's which?

Extinction of The Dudes

Not our idea of a folk-hero; but to some, he was right up there with Billy The Kid or Ernie The Fastest Milkman In The West.

Raoul Moat

Grab your crayons and colour outside the lines, why don't you?  That'll show 'em...And it's got a Dalek at the end, so that's pretty boss and cool.

Pris'ner #783

A theological teaser for a slow coffee-break - or very dull church service, should you be so inclined.

Christians And Earthquakes

You know what's great? Fundamentalist Christianity in high political office: if you don't agree, perhaps you haven't heard THIS yet.  This song carefully explains how having a cabal of Bible-thumping nutjobs controlling the world is really awesome in simple terms that even a Godless abomination like YOU can understand...

Thy Will Be Done

Pretty much what it says "on the tin" - to employ a ghastly cliché that should make the skin of any right-thinking person crawl right off their bodies and into the nearest fire...

Last Request

A proper bastard of a song to perform after a sherry.  Still; as it points out:  there are no easy answers to anything - regardless of how much cash you throw at those who'd have you believe that there are.

Unlock The Awesome Power Of Your Wallet

Trad/arr and all that: the song that got CrackTown together at a bar during a lock-in; after this, we did our own stuff - which might have been a mistake in retrospect.  Nevertheless, the die is cast...

I Am The Man Of Constant Sorrow

Isn't it the most appalling shame that some people - through no fault of their own, I mean to say - are devastated by trauma, horror, unimaginable agony (both physical and spiritual), and suffering that no living thing should ever endure?  Well; they shouldn't go to gigs performed by earnest singer/sonwriters, should they?  Bleating fucking cuntrags.

How I feel inside

"Derek and Clive beating Bob Dylan to death with the bones of Robert Johnson" is The King Rat's picturesque description of CrackTown's raw, acoustic, two-man frenzy - and it seems about right.
Should your tastes lie in the direction of secular humanist rage, unaligned Leftist grousing, or simply rocking blues/country riffs enlivened by sherry-warped observations of whichever zeitgeist is currently holding sway, we're the lads for you.

CrackTown

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