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I can't be bothered trying to remember a whole lot of songs by other bands, so I'll just mention the "pig songs" that I have written/performed/recorded!
"I'm A Pig" (1988) Dead Centre/Boris/The Pukes/Mike Puke
"Police Bastard" (1990) Boris/Dead Centre/Mike Puke
"Police State" (1994) Dead Centre
"New Toys For The Blue Boys" (2008) Mike Puke
There may be others that have faded into the mists of history, but I can't think of them right at the moment...
Here's a couple of stories about how "Im A Pig" and "Police Bastard" came to be written -
Bob Young and Bill Homan
My first run in with genuine and bonafide "pigs" happened when I was about seventeen years old (about 1982). I had just recently left school and was working as a Psychiatric Aide, at the local psychiatric hospital. I had orange spikey hair and lots of earrings and a couple of nose rings, much to the dismay of the hospital hierachy. Anyway, on my days off I would go out on the piss and usually end up crashing out in my car, a Mk I Triumph 2000, at the end of the night.
Early one morning, I was woken up with a tapping on my window. It was a couple of fuckin' coppers. They asked me for my name, address and occupation, as they do, and when I said my occupation was a "Psychiatric Aide", they didn't believe me. They kept asking me for my real details, to which I'd say, "they are my real details". They kept on saying, "bullshit, you can't be a psychiatric aide, not with hair like that", to which I'd keep replying, "well, I am". These two coppers started getting really pissed off and one of them shoved his baton in through the window and tried to hit me with it. So I had this fuckin' baton flying around the place, with my name on it. It was right at this point that a milkman, doing early morning deliveries to the cafe across the road, came around the corner and saw what was happening. He called the cops over and must have said something like, "I've seen what's going on here", cos the two coppers left after that. This was my first run in with bad coppers and I would see these two around a lot in the next few years. This was my introduction to "Bob Young" and "Bill Homan".
Bob Young and Ian Bird
This incident happened a couple of years or so later, (after many other incidents). I was asleep in my car one night (a 1968 VE Valiant, which was my home at the time), when two pigs, "Young" and "Bird", opened up the door and woke me up by tipping milk over me. We had our usual big slag off session, with them calling me names, such as "scum" and "parasite" ("parasite" was a favourite of Youngs) and I was calling them "pigs", "robots" and "fuckheads"! They ripped the pig that I had mounted on the front of my bonnet off, a plastic piggy bank, painted in blue and white checkers. Then they whacked me across the face with their big metal torch, which was basically a baton with a light, for night use. I made an official complaint, expecting to be told to "fuck off", but the head cop couldn't do enough for me. Both pigs got demoted and weren't allowed to drive anymore and had to do their beats with a senior cop with them. They also weren't allowed anywhere near me, unless they had a warrant for my arrest. It was fun to point and laugh at them, everytime I saw them in the passenger seats of the cop cars and they would slink down, trying not to be seen.
I wrote one of my first songs about the pigs after this, called "I'm A Pig", which I still perform to this day, either with The Pukes or as a solo act.
John Price
It was 1988 and I was living in a warehouse in Stoke. It was about the same time Dead Centre formed. One morning I was woken up, with a constant banging on both the rollerdoor and the normal door. It was early and me and my flatmate just kept yelling out "fuck off!" The banging kept going on and on and eventually my flatmate got up and opened the door. As soon as he opened the door, about five coppers came barging in, still holding the steel pipes they had been using to bash on the doors. They started to tear the place apart, without even showing us a search warrant. When I asked to see the search warrant, John Price said he'd show it to me afterwards. John Price was a nasty looking piece of crap, all skinned up and wearing big boots. He looked like a skinhead in a cops uniform. Anyway, I said I wanted to see the warrant now, not afterwards, but he wouldn't show it to me. In his hand he had a thick wad of papers, so I grabbed them. Instantly, he threw me onto the couch and arrested me for "obstruction". I was then bundled into a cop car and taken to the Sty. When I got to the Sty, John Price put me in this little cage thing and left me there for quite a while. This little cage didn't even have a toilet, so I took great pleasure in pissing all around it. Eventually, John Price turned up and gave me a date to appear in court. I didn't think anything of it at the time, but he didn't give me the summons in writing.
John Price suggested that I may want to plead guilty, as I would get a lesser sentence. I told him there was no way I would plead guilty and that I would fight the whole thing. From then on, everytime John Price saw me, he would come up to me and poke his finger in my chest and say things like, "you haven't got a chance, Puke", and "I'm gonna beat you in court, Puke". I told him that, considering how fucked up the system was, he probably would win, but I was going to plead "not guilty" anyway. That went on until just before the day of the court case.
It was the day before the court case and I came home to find all these coppers there. They had a warrant for my arrest. When I asked what the warrant was for, I was told it was for not turning up to court. John Price the dirty fucker, had purposely given me the date for the day to appear in court as the day after the court case, so that I wouldn't turn up and be arrested for not going to court and make things look worse for me. No wonder he didn't give me the summons in writing! So I got the cops to take me into the courthouse. When I got there, I was told the morning session had finished and that I'd have to come back at 2 o'clock. So at 2 o'clock I went into court. Sergeant John Price went up first, and told nothing but absolute lies, crap and bullshit. Then it was my turn. I started going on about how the coppers "knocked" on the doors and invited the judge to come round and have a look at all the dents on them. I told him about how I wasn't shown a search warrant, even though I asked. So the judge asked to see a copy of the warrant. Funny... no copies of the warrant could be found anywhere. No wonder John Price wouldn't show me the warrant... there wasn't one.
I got off... easily. No wonder John Price tried so hard to convince me to plead guilty. I've met a few rotten coppers in my time, but John Price is definitely the dirtiest, bent bastard of a pig I've ever had anything to do with. I just wish I had laid counter charges on the prick, I possibly may have got him fired. One less bent pig on the streets. Shortly after all this happened, John Price ended up becoming a community pig, in Stoke, in a little police station manned by one or two cops. He must have rubbed someone else up the wrong way, because after a short period of time, his little police station got fire-bombed and burnt down to the ground. What a shame he wasn't in it!
I wrote my second "pig song" after this, called "Police Bastard".
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