Rocktronic

by Americans UK

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  • Streaming + Download

    Includes unlimited streaming via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality download in MP3, FLAC and more.

      $7 USD

     

  • Compact Disc (CD) + Digital Album

    Comes in a folding case featuring art design by lead singer, Jef UK, and photography by Darin Murano.

    Includes unlimited streaming of Rocktronic via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality download in MP3, FLAC and more.
    ships out within 2 days
    edition of 5000 

      $10 USD

     

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02:07
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credits

released May 31, 2009

license

all rights reserved

tags

about

Americans UK New York

Brooklyn sci-fi rockers Americans UK travel through bubble universes, saving reality from boring rock n' roll.

Americans UK also make comic book adventures about the band and songs. It's all true!

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Contact Americans UK

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Track Name: You Can't Kill The Americans UK
You can't kill the Americans UK!
You can try but we'll arise from our graves.
Using arrows, poison and grenades?
We'll deflect, diffuse, regenerate limbs.
Born to burn, you can't cremate,
Something made from rock mined from Hades,
We're too hot hot, hot hot, hot hot!

You can't kill the Americans UK!
Slit our throats we'll swallow up the blade.
Bind our feet, throw us into the lake?
We'll grow gills, we can't be suffocated.
Born to burn, you can't cremate,
Something made from rock mined from Hades,
We're too hot hot, hot hot, hot hot!
Track Name: Rocktronic
She starts the party if you're ready or not,
She hits the dance floor and starts getting real hot,
She takes her jacket off, her jacket off, her jacket, uh-oh,
And now she's downing shots, she's downing shots, she's downing, uh-oh.
She runs her hands down from her breasts to her knees,
Her mouth is open like she's begging to please,
She gives her hair a toss, her hair a toss, her hair, uh-oh,
And it's erotic, it's exotic, it's rocktronic, uh-oh!

It's rocktronic!

He takes a drag off Parliament cigarette,
He checks the microphone for microphone check,
He's going to rock this set, rock this set, rock it, uh-oh.
The whole crowd holds its breath, they hold their breath, they hold it, uh-oh.
Strikes his pick across his medium strings,
His lips are snarling as they let loose a scream,
There's so much sweat it stings, the sweat it stings, the sweat, uh-oh,
And it's erotic, it's exotic, it's rocktronic, uh-oh.

Flesh melds with the keyboards, making cyborgs,
Rocktronic, rocktronic, rocktronic!
Track Name: Zombies Attack!!!
It starts like another day,
People at work or off at play.
At an unknown location,
A canister is broken,
Uncanny fumes infect the dead.

Zombies attack!

Infection spreads as fast as flames!
Corpses shuffle in search of brains!
If you are scratched or bitten,
You will number among them,
Hunger replace humanity.

Zombies attack!

You left your shotgun in the shed,
The yard's littered with walking dead!
Their visages are frightening,
Necrotic flesh is tightening,
As their eyes roll back in their heads!

Zombies attack!

Brains, brains, brains!!!
Track Name: [Inappropriate] Word[s] To Your Mother
Minivan, high heels, short-cut jean skirt,
Eyebrows raised over sunglasses,
She's dropping off the baseball cap,
I purposively left at your sleepover.

Picking up sister from her soccer scrimmage.
Cutting off bread crusts from your tuna sandwich.
Deft with cutlery, she's good with a handle.
Yeah I'll come over, every night, every weekend.

Inappropriate words to your mother.

Tennis skirt, hubby's v-neck t-shirt,
She's watering her bush and flower garden.
Lips and laugh lines crease when she smiles,
The garden hose is kinked around her left thigh.

Cleaning the kitchen using a dish sponge with,
Lemon scented freshner,
Against the grout she is scrubbing nasty crusties,
Putting her back in to it,
Soapy, wet, ready, good god, her lips are so red.

Inappropriate words to your mother.
Track Name: Jobs: We Don't Have Them
Sit at home watch daytime telly,
Woke up at quarter 'til two.
Reading all of Dostoevsky,
Let all my debts accrue.
I'm feeling bored, I'm feeling frisky,
Website porn will have to do!
I call you up on your celly,
You say that you, are so bored too!

Cuz we don't have jobs!
We don't have jobs!

I'm quickly running out of money,
But I still buy comic books,
So I holler to my lady,
To bum a couple of bucks.
I say, "hey, hey honey!
Will you buy me some booze?"
So she hands a me a twenty,
Coupled with some dirty looks!

Cuz we don't have jobs!
We don't have jobs!
Track Name: Electric Closet
Peak inverse voltage frequencies.
(Electric closet)
Filament current hystericies.
(Electric closet)

Generators hum alive.
Haunted processors whir.
Static shock, the roof comes off,
In the electric closet, electric closet,
Blue light arcs, then time restarts,
In the electric closet, electric closet!

The robot mop, goes stutter stop,
Flourescent mice pour from the corners.
Computer chip analysis,
Tesla's ghost gets with the freak down!
Track Name: The Better Head
The Better Head sits above my desk's window.
Transistors hum as its eyes stare numb.
It has no lungs by which to speak to me,
But seems to ask, "What did you make me for? From?"

Floating in soup of electrolyte formaldahyde,
The Better Head will wrinkle its nose,
Bear its teeth and mouth vulgarities.
Its contempt for me is beginning to show.

Sometimes at night I think I hear it crying.
That's impossible, I know, I made it so.
The Better Head is plotting to kill me,
Take my body and escape into the snow.

Smarter, thinks harder,
The Better Head.
Leaner, it's meaner,
The Better Head.
Inspect, perfect,
The Better Head.

I hate to think what's left of its memory,
Like does it know of its origin and home?
Does it have knowledge of my trespass against it,
When introducing baseball bat to its skull?

And started hooking up neurons to car batteries,
Replacing blood with vaseline and motor oil.
Sewing up signs of severing with hacksaw,
From arms and legs and heart and body and all.

Smarter, thinks harder,
The Better Head!
Leaner, it's meaner,
The Better Head!
Inspect, perfect,
The Better Head!

We've been working on means of communication:
One blink for yes and two blinks means no.
Three blinks means he is calling me an idiot,
Four blinks means--I don't even want to know.

I remember when I used to call him, "brother,"
And he excelled in every class and every sport.
His sexual exploits were the stuff of legends!
Now he's just a fucking head in a jar.

Smarter, thinks harder,
The Better Head!
Leaner, it's meaner,
The Better Head,
Inspect, perfect,
The Better Head!
Track Name: Time Bum
Red, green or blue,
I don't know which,
Wires to cut,
To flip your switch,
From freaking out,
To laying low,
Your LED reads,
Seconds to blow.

I hear you ticking,
Cuz you're a (tic tic tic tic),
Time Bum.

Don't get so mad,
Calm down a bit,
The shrapnel incurred,
Is not worth it,
Broken we'll land,
Battered and bruised,
You're the plastique,
While I'm the fuse.

I hear you ticking,
Cuz you're a (tic tic tic tic),
Time Bum.

6-5-4-3-2-1!
You are set to explode!
Pow!
Track Name: Sons Of Ba'al
We do not worship your President Jesus,
Your springtime and winter rituals don't please us!
Henry and Ribsy will never come near us yeah we are Ramona to your turn as Beezus!

Happily anti-whatever-you-say!!
Attack you with frisbees 'til we get our way!!

'Tis our destiny,
To fight God, Death and Sea!
Oh yes, we have the gall,
For we are all,
Sons of Ba'al!!

Guerilla theater intelligencia,
Our membership's growing but you'll never see 'em!
We reason like robot, we sneak up like ninja,
With agents in El Paso to North Korea!

He'll dead-leg your logic,
She'll hot-foot your fait,
Our rage is delicious,
Come here, have a taste!!

'Tis our destiny,
To fight God, Death and Sea!
Oh yes, we have the gall,
For we are all,
Sons of Ba'al!!

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