Sometimes if a door alarm has ear-wormed you, you have to turn it in to a Big Beat tribute to Rugby League legend Mick Morgan.

Diabolical. Can't Speak.

Go-Pass-Run

Vagabond

Produced & mixed by Jonny Woods
Recorded at 1980 Something Studios 
Mastered by Jon Moorehead at Moosetronix
Cover Art by Norma Sleator
Photography by Casey Ryan
All songs written by Sonja Sleator & Daniel Lynch
Ethan Hanna - Guitars / Vocals
Sean McCann - Bass
Josh McCullough - Drums

Inhale

Roi De L'Herbe

King Of The Grass

Afrotrip

Foam Animals

From the Six Examples of the Wilhelm Scream e.p out on 6th June 2025 on Socks on Records.

Bob drives a Tesla and is at least partially responsible for the imminent collapse of western democracy.

The Invention Of A Dentist

I like the 9 to 5
Putting it all on the hard drive
I like the 6 to 10
I watch a movie and then
I goto bed at 11
Pray to the folks who art in heaven
From midnight till 3
I pray for those in purgatory
From 4 o'clock to 8
I pray for those for whom prayers came too late

24 Hour Clock

I'll Never Change You

Tollman

A disassembling of the lies governments tell when they seek to rule through autocracy and deceit. A dissection of how the secret services are not the glamour of the movies, but are actually the levers of rogue states to undermine democracy.

Lyrics: Richard Pierce
Vocals: Richard Pierce
Music: The Big Grey Man
Guitar, Bass, Drums: The Big Grey Man
Keyboard: Richard Pierce

Whisper it, whisper it.
James Bond is dead.

Whisper it, whisper it.
James Bond is dead.

The snow geese are safe again,
From misdirected or deliberate sniper fire,
Incompetence or practice,
Here on the borders of tundra
And western civilisation.
Until the next story invents itself.

James Bond is dead.

Secrets aren’t such clever agents in the end,
Arrogance overlooking the obvious,
And exceptionalism blind.

Fiction is a real fact
Not exaggerated or purpled by prose.
It is.

In the corridors of power,
Incompetence or practice?
Until the next story invents itself,
Until they invent their next stories
In the corridors of power.

Shout it, shout it!
James Bond is dead!
Rejoice, rejoice!
James Bond I dead!

The real world took him apart
Piece by piece,
Myth by myth,
Broken ceasefire by broken promise,
War by war by bloodier war.

Blessed are the codebreakers,
The peace makers,
The pacifists,
Not the agents of the rogue state.
Not. The. Agents. Of. The. Rogue. State.
No, not the agents of the rogue state.

James Bond and Felix Leiter are dead.

And blessed are
The peace makers,
The pacifists.

And blessed are
The peace makers,
The pacifists.
