Anti-Flag были хедлайнерами на KUBANA в самый горячий день. В субботу они пробудили в поджаренных неформалах антисоциальный инстинкт. А до этого было небольшое интервью с Джастином Сэйном (Justin Sane). Поговорил о традиционных проблемах политике, войне, журналистике. О творческих планах, что готовят материал для нового альбома. Получил от фанатов в подарок русское издание дисков Anti-Flag. Зажгли быстро и сходу. Охрана Беркут была в шоке, казаки никогда не видели неистовых панков. Руки, ноги, ирокезы, сиськи — взметались над толпой у сцены. В то время как Джастин Сэйн и Крис Бакер горлопанили со сцены песни о свободе. Это было взрывное выступление на пылающей сцене.

Несколько дней назад вышел свежий альбом у Anti-Flag. Название пластинки The General Strike. Если память не подводит, то с нее звучали несколько песен на Kubana, а именно Broken Bones. Текст некоторых песен Anti-Flag с нового альбома ниже вместе с фотографиями.

1915
In a letter to every President
Congressman, career politician
Scrawled in spite across the envelope
With all of our conviction
In only took a few hours for his peers
To find him guilty in a trail too fair
A Wobblie, Immigrant Worker has
no place among the living
“My body if I could choose to ashes it reduce”
Murdered by the capitalist
November 1915 be careful of what you wish
Who is wrong and who is righteous?
What was stolen from us we will replace
Off with the head on the body we feast
Who is wrong and who is righteous, will never
be our own decision
He yelled fire to the squad with guns they stopped
his heart from beating
Every word he wrote, he spoke, he sung, we are
still singing
“My body if I could choose to ashes it reduce
And let the breezes blow my dust to where some
flowers grow
Perhaps some fading flower then would come
to life and bloom again”
If the workers take a notion
They can stop all speeding trains
Every ship upon the ocean
They can tie with mighty chains
Every wheel in the creation
Every mine and every mill
Fleets and armies of all nations
Will at our command stand…
Still

This Is The New Sound
That alarm clock ringin’ in your ear
Radio playing sports report cheer
But you got nothing to cheer or shout about
Just a nine to five in a lousy town
Your morning begins, with you thinkin’ of the cold
of the street blown’ in your face
Your morning begins with you thinkin’… “One
more day in this job and I’m gonna scream!”
So stand up
And step out
Step out to The New Sound
“Hello!” to the manager, “Hello!” to the boss
As they sell you short and they drink your blood
You give ‘em your heart and your very soul
Only to realize that they don’t give a fuck about
you!
Your morning begins, with you thinkin’ of the cold
of the street blowin in your face
Your morning begins with you thinkin’, “One more
day in this life and I’m gonna scream!”
So stand up
Step out
Step out to The New Sound
And when they try to put you down put you on
your back,
but you don’t take that you knock ‘em out!

Broken Bones
Broken bones and broken glass
Broken hearts and broken heads…
Livin’ the life…
Close my eyes try to make it last
Ourun the wretched memories of my past
It moves too fast
I got no chance
A frieght train racing set to crash
Broken bones and broken glass
Broken hearts and broken heads…
Livin’ the life…
Wake up wondering’, “How’ did I get here?”
Then cross my heart and say a fuckin’ prayer
Ecstasy, tears, bravery, fears
This boat may float, but it don’t steer
Broken bones and broken glass
Broken hearts and broken heads…
Livin’ the life…
Life’s long and winding roads leading us to a
never ending trail to keep our youth
It flashes by in lessons painfully attained…
Blood and sweat, black and blue
Some surrender I got nothing’ to surrender to…
Broken bones and broken glass
Broken hearts and broken heads…
Livin’ the life…
So now you’re livin’… So now you’re livin’…
Close my eyes try to make it last
Ourun the wretched memories of my past

Bullshit Opportunist
Deceitful lie
Alibi’s
Bullshit opportunist
With a disregard for fall guys
No collar crime
Stolen design
Spineless snitch
You can’t see beyond your own eyes
Conceited time
Hoarding flies
You’re so vain
The shit on your nose worn with pride
Absent mind
Covert disguise
Shit shining timeserver
You’d fuck your own mother just to get a bit ahead of the calm
This separation
This disconnect
This is more than ignorance
This is more than disrespect
“If not for me who would it be?”
And still we close our eyes and drown ourselves in apathy
And still we cover our ears and pray to god to cure disease
Redefining what wealth is
Redesigning what success is
Who gives a fuck who you are?

The Ranks of The Masses Rising
Times up! You’re outta luck and your back’s up against the wall
From Tunisia to Washington the people are calling, “No!”
Your gas n guns, your clubs n thugs, your lies on the TV
None of it can save you now as your reign is swept away
Get up! Get up! Your voices are needed
Become, become the pulse of the revolution
In the ranks of the masses risin’
Another shakedown and a slap in the face and he know he’d had had enough
He doused himself in gasoline, took a breath, and lit a match
She said, “I will go down to Tehrir Square and I will stand alone…
(And if you have any dignity I won’t be on my own)”
Get up! Get up! Your voices are needed
Become, become the pulse of the revolution
In the ranks of the masses rising

Turn A Blind Eye
See our sense of shame and throw it overboard
See our moral compass set to so past bored
I guess conscience really does just make cowards of us all
See us turn a blind eye till it’s criminal
See us walk away until we can’t walk anymore
I guess conscience really does just make us look like fools
You’ve been washing out the faces of your friends
Again…
See us right the ship, take back control
See us fight like hell for the way it was before
I guess judgement really should just come from our enemies
You’ve been washing out the faces of your friends
You’ve been wishing that they’d give you another chance
Again…