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s​/​t

by Clocked Out

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1.
Rigged 02:00
Got no time to justify this waste of time I've called my life. Always sick, always tired, nowhere to go no end in sight. Lost one war you've lost them all. Didn't matter then, doesn't matter now. End defeated by the means, I'll kick this chair if you pull the strings. Everyone's gone and I've forgotten, perfunctory and rotten. I don't fucking get it. You bet that I regret it. Wrecked and I regret it. This downpayment on a headache never fucking ends.
2.
Faultlines 01:14
Another day, another masquerade. Opinions torn apart and thrown away with nothing to say. These aren't principals. You're confused. Do your worst because you know you'll lose. Nothing to show, but got it all to prove. If actions speak louder, no one move! No one fucking move. Kept at arm's length, but never out of reach. Beat your chest so long you've forgotten how to speak. Keep your distance and make sure no one sees. Another carbon copy, flavour of the week. Reality blurs when lines are crossed. The grass is always greener where the earth is scorched. You've burned your bridges now it's getting cold. Exhausted your options and I think you know you can only get so far when you're on your own. Theoretical threats could never break the mold.
3.
Bar None 01:26
Cross our fingers, hope for the worst. I'll kill myself before it gets me first. Drain my brain, it's cursed! Already bored behind closed doors. These boundaries can't be ignored. I've heard it all before. I can see what's in front of me and I couldn't be... I can't breathe... Bound by bullshit then torn apart. Nerves were dampened from the start. Still suffer for this art - we pride ourselves on wasted lives. Just platitudes to pass the time. Where do you draw the line? There's a war inside my mind and I lose every time. you're so fucking asinine. You can tell yourself 1000 times that this never was and couldn't be real life but don't act so surprised, You only have one life and you let every chance pass you by.
4.
Lockjaw 01:47
Pick your side and sit on the fence. Regurgitate in the past tense. Sell yourself for less. Divert and steal with perfect ease. Assimilate not one fucking thing. Dichotomic disease. No culture here, life is cheap. That isn't going to help you sleep. Circumvent sincerity with business issue self belief. Human rating, how am I faring? Exist to extort, not entertain - do you feel the same? It's not an opportunity, this is not a test, take a step back, it's a fucking mess. Is it ever worth the stress? If you hadn't guessed - they're closing in with their hands around your neck. Everything's so fucking pretty. Bleed yourself dry if it fits the city. It pays to play their game so pay no mind. Parody life, marginalise... but stay away and don't waste my time. Sucked yourself dry. Subcultures sterilised. Profitable, not in control, hang yourself with their rope. Repeat what they say until it makes sense again. You're not breaking ground, it's a charade. You're all just the same.
5.
Negated 01:46
Waste away for another day, retching red but my world's gone grey. Scream at the walls, nothing to say. We always knew it would be this way. Killed myself a million times trying to escape this fucking life. Every day is a new disease with nothing for you and even less for me. So I lie through my fucking teeth, tell myself it's a release. Burn in bed. Can't get to sleep. Now I know what's wrong with me.
6.
Indignation to provoke. Every day is a job and you can't cope. Ephemeral, sick elite. Live life on your knees, still drag your feet. I don't have the answers, but you don't have a clue. Doing this all backwards, the joke's always been on you. I'd satisfy your curiosity but you don't mean a thing to me. Everything's so brilliant and bleak. Sacrificial static screen doesn't mean a thing. Opinions are weak. Struggle to speak. Doesn't mean a thing and it won't carry you through the week...
7.
No Domain 01:36
So fucking sick of this shit. Pick a day, I won't quit. Take a number and get in line. You're not better, just better at lying. It serves no purpose you're just as worthless. Waste a life one day at a time. Functionary fear controls your mind. No brain cells left, no stomach wall. Wasn't worth it after all. You don't fucking own me and you won't let me go. But we all know you don't want this and it could be gone tomorrow. You'd be alone with nowhere else to go. Everybody's got a job to do in this open plan attrition, so enjoy the view. Getting out of bed today was the biggest mistake I've ever made.
8.
A lifetime spent rotting on the outside, I panic looking in. Nailed to the spot, ugly world is spinning, overheating and I can't win. And it's true - I've never felt so fucking through. I've got nothing left, nothing but my mind to lose. Can't cope with the pace, never known what to do. So I'll just blow my fuse. Swing and miss. Fuck all of this. Everything's gone wrong and I just don't belong.
9.
The Heist 03:02
It's all a hoax, you're bored and broke. Nothing but a fucking joke, swallow your words and choke. You can feel it in your throat. Cough up something that tastes like hope. Picture perfect and all alone. None of this makes any sense. Change your mind, you lose again. Can't stand yourself, can't stand your friends. Erode to make amends. Stand your ground til no one looks, break the rules by their books. One chance was all it took, and your foundations fucking shook. I'm fucking trapped and I can't stand it. It all ends the same. Static.Static.Static.Static.Static.Static.Static.Static.Static.Static.Static. Static.Static.Static.Static.Static.Static.Static.Static.Static.Static.

about

Clocked Out are from north of the border and have been making killer thrashy punk for years now. This is their first full-length and is bursting with energy, tightness and attitude. They regularly garner comparisons to Clevo-style US hardcore like H100s and 9 Shocks Terror. Brutal, throat-wrecked vocals howling over high-charge, riff-tastic hardcore punk, with just the right amounts of mid-tempo rocking and just the right flashes of guitar lead. Memorable songs captured with a heavy production, a perfect execution of "hardcore punk".

credits

released April 15, 2015

Clocked Out is C. MacKay - vocals, M. Stewart - guitar, T. Kelly - bass, P. Connolly - drums.

Recorded 11-12 July 2014 at 16 Ohm Studios, Glasgow by Tommy Duffin.

Mastered by Daniel Husayn, North London Bomb Factory, September 2014.

SuperFi / At War With False Noise / SPHC Records

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Established in 2000. Been involved in about 100 different releases so far on a variety of formats.

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