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Fit, Fine & Well

by Throwing Stuff

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    What the label say:

    This is hardcore at it’s finest and is sure to be a contender for album of the year.

    Throwing Stuff are a four-piece hardcore punk band based out of Manchester, England by way of London and Liverpool. Taking influence from the likes of Minor Threat, Paint it Black and Cold Ones, they play a fast, thrashy, no-nonsense punk that doesn’t take itself too seriously, but won’t shy away from the serious issues.

    Fit, Fine & Well is Throwing Stuff’s debut LP. The title comes from the final line of the album closer, Father’s Day. A song about vocalist Ben’s experiences coping with his dad’s terminal, stage four brain tumour over the last year. Throughout his dad’s life, “fit, fine and well” has been the stock response to anyone who asked him how he was. Eighteen months on from diagnosis and two operations later, he still says he’s “fit, fine and well” as he battles what’s going on his head. Father’s Day is as honest and raw as Throwing Stuff have ever been lyrically, unrelenting and intense in the two minutes it lasts.

    “I Know What’s Best”, a song about Ben’s mental health struggles in the last year, and Hangxiety, a thrashy number on the anxiety-ridden perils of getting battered, continue the Throwing Stuff’s more bleak, introspective shift compared to their earlier material.

    When they’re not dabbling with doom and gloom, Throwing Stuff are usually angry about something. Whether that’s the trade in rhino horns (The Hunter), David Cameron’s leadership (We Wrote This Song Before David Cameron Resigned), the pitfalls of evolution (Whatever Made You Think that Paper Was So Valuable?) or genocide (The Butcher).

    Due for release on April 7th, just in time for their trip around the UK with Aussie punk n’ rollers, Clowns, Fit, Fine & Well is a collection of songs that span almost the entire existence of the band, from the first practice right up to the studio floor.

    Track listing:
    1. Tracy Chapman
    2. Whatever Made You Think Paper Was Valuable
    3. The Butcher
    4. Hangxiety
    5. We Wrote This Song Before David Cameron Resigned
    6. I Wish You Would Hibernate
    7. I Know What’s Best
    8. We Are Only Healthy To The Extent That Our Ideas Are Humane
    9. F.U.B.S.
    10. Token Beef
    11. The Hunter
    12. Five Pound Beers
    13. How Do You Sleep At Night?
    14. Steve’s Job
    15. Father’s Day

    What the critics say:

    "Clever, quick and doesn't get old in a hurry" - William Scott, New Noise
    "The very best in British thrash punk" - Daniel Rourke, Burn After Writing
    "A rage against the machine hunk of punk rock anger and gut-wrenching emotion" - Punk Online
    "Are you intentionally trying to take the piss out of me?" - Ian 'Tree' Robinson

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1.
You can tell me all your lies, I’ll cut you down to size You can tell us that the science doesn’t fit, I know you’re all wrapped up in it Just don’t tell us there’s a future, at least if things go on like this I fucking love this world and you’re the one destroying it The foundations are weak in the home where I sleep Where my dreams are punctuated by crumbling teeth No hope, not a dead heat You haven’t got the time to fucking drag your feet The house that Richard Arkwright built is a shady fucking construction The rising damp and the mice infestation are the least of your fucking problems You’re in for a penny, you’re in for a pound But I’m begging you please leave that shit in the ground I’m trying my best not to frown But it’s absolute, it’s binding and it’s bringing me down I want to lie on a mattress in the middle of my room And listen to Fast Car until this all blows over
2.
Like a tortoise on its back Helpless and waiting, can’t fucking attack Don’t take the time to frown I wasn’t going to write the next Nervous Breakdown Try to outrun what you can’t escape The blueprint was fucked in the first place We wrecked this place We are exactly who we seem to be With far too much capacity for misery Fuck my big brain Call it a cheap trip But it’s evolution that’s out of step We’ll wait, we’ve got years Treading water is my greatest fear From birth to death Blue tunnel’s coming, it’s time to rest
3.
The Butcher 02:13
I can’t comprehend the thoughts in your head Why you’d want a world where Nero’d fear to tread Burn or besiege, the devil and the deep sea Judgement’s most famous absentee All is fair (in love and war) We have heard (these lies before) Ingest your statistics (regurgitated history) There are rules to this horror show and you broke almost every one you know Your life is a cemetery, or more like an unmarked grave Flayed flesh from bone, there’s dignity in the unknown Dredge up your guilt, cover your tracks We’ve got a satellite for that God’s not a fan of these transgressions Closure is some kind of consolation We must shorten the distance between the heart and the deed Never again
4.
Hangxiety 00:48
I was born with both eyes open A sour glare and a selfish heart The path ahead is full of sideways glances Rubberneck questions I can’t bear to answer The paranoia or the pain in my head Whichever is worse, just leave me in bed It’s all so fucking enveloping Chronic and overwhelming It makes me want to pack it all in No more pints, not a drop of gin The heir to the family scowl Bad luck doesn’t have any chinks in it This guilt is a heavy burden I just can’t stand to look you in the eye I appreciate your optimism But I just don’t fucking buy it I don’t care if your toenails are dry There’s no dancing left to do
5.
Never trust a man with one sock on You don’t know where his hands have been Straighten your tie, you fucking swine You can’t talk the talk without the fucking walk There’s credit where there’s credit due We differ on that but you changed the tune When you gonna invite me to one of your parties? Bramley apples, caviar and pints of Bacardi I don’t care what you do in your bedroom I don’t care if you’re a dishonest Christian If I lived here I’d be home by now No accusations, no head in the clouds Dodging questions like you know where I’ve been That dirty smirk couldn’t hide a wedding ring Tell me how it’s not black and white Sounds like you gave up the fight Time’s run out, growing indignation Raising a toast to your resignation
6.
You can’t pass your problems Your problems on to me If you sign on the dotted line You’ll never be free You can call it a doctrine I call it disease You can’t talk of the flood And then leave the tap running Distance distorts the time All the time that’s left Another year has passed me by And my lungs are fucked I want to smash my face through this porcelain If it wasn’t covered in mould and piss I wish you would hibernate I would sleep fucking great
7.
I walk with the dead but I still fear death I don’t have the patience to count each breath Another summer ends and I feel safe No longer the outdoors do I have to face Wading through the weeds to get there Up to my neck, I could be anywhere The difference between lonesome and lonely It just comes down to fucking poetry I know what’s best Wrap me in electric fence I can’t get out, not letting anyone in Just pluck up the courage to ask how I’ve been If I don’t have enough sleep I’ll fall apart at the seams I’m trying my best not to be alone But I still can’t push out of this comfort zone Trying to keep busy every night of the week Searching for an escape from the losing streak I’ve never been so stupid in my fucking life Ignoring all of the internal strife Trying to find some grip on a helping hand Let it slip and bury my head in the sand
8.
If you were a gift horse I’d count your fucking teeth Let you know you’re not the only pebble on this beach Tearing everything apart to protect your fucking kin Reset your principles and start from the beginning We are only healthy to the extent that our ideas are humane Fuck off all you stupid Tory pricks
9.
F.U.B.S 01:18
I’ve never been the early bird And sometimes I’m forgetting breakfast Found out the party’s over before anyone told me it started Oh well, never mind I’m find with biding my time I’ll just petition this early grave And nail the coffin shut from the inside I spend half my life building castles in the sky Where I struggle with the foundations, it burns me up inside To ruminate, to contemplate is a waste of my time When the reality is there’s a fucking big mountain to climb If this is hell, well then hello It’s time we got better acquainted The tide is rising higher and I’ve not learned yet to breathe underwater At the end of the week after next I’ll be the one who’s fucking drowning
10.
Token Beef 03:10
There’s no fucking rules, man, I’m not trying to censor your self-righteous clan I just think we’re not on the same page, or even reading a similar book Your ignorance is based on intolerance, and it’s frankly fucking abhorrent How can you begin to include the margins with a word that leaves so many disheartened? You’re not an elected spokesperson, you don’t speak for everyone Regardless of your intent, your words are lacking intellect There’s a wood among these trees If you opened your eyes, you’d see We both have broken teeth, but that’s where the similarities end The youth of today, the impressionable ones, absorbing your words like rays from the sun You’re a bastard, you grind us down Keep your bullshit to yourself
11.
The Hunter 01:42
If your finger nails were worth their weight in gold I’d rip them out, let it be told If your fucking hair could cure all disease I’d treasure your scalp, I guarantee You pilfer and plunder, you’re fucking vile There’s complicity across these miles and miles You can mix up all your medicines, treat tradition as fact Feed the habit all you like, the science was never intact If you could comprehend the loss, you’d understand the message I’m trying to get across I’ll cut off your nose to fucking spite your face You’re a self-destructive egotist, I can’t relate I hate the way you fucking live And don’t give me any of that “cultural misunderstanding” shit Oblivious or disinterested, I don’t know which You’ll take, take, take until there’s nothing left
12.
So go and fucking choke on that place that they call the big smoke In my head it’s a joke I don’t get where I’m from But I guess it makes sense because my friends are gone We’re all fucked up north There’s so much more here than pop-up restaurants and five pound beers The river by the night is something to behold When you find yourself down here, then you know you’re getting old We’re all fucked down south Could have changed my mind, could have stayed at home Why care so much about a life that’s not your own? Could have not moved out, could have stayed the same But it’s fucking happened now and I’m glad I chose this way I’ve made my mind up
13.
I’d rather be dead than a blue You march the beat of a familiar tune A scramble to the top, society’s divider The bottom continues growing wider How do you sleep at night? I repent my sins, turn out the light I’m sick of your trickle down politics Sick of your flawed free market logic I can’t stomach the sound of the scapegoat bleating Can’t stomach the smell of the books you’re burning This is a sinking ship You’ll slip between the cup and the lip
14.
Steve's Job 02:06
I want to crash my face through this fucking desk Living for weekend life is such a mess Get up early, go home late Living the life we love to hate Say you never wanted that 9-5 Shame you’ve gotta eat to survive I want to crush this mouse inside my fucking fist Eating cake on Friday is no solace for this Fuck your job Fuck your boss Fuck casual Fridays Fuck the lot
15.
Father's Day 01:46
Sitting on this quiet southbound train more often than I’d like these days A few hours of your time is all I get, I know you have a sleepy head You’re squirming for words that I know are there, that you’ll never find them I’m fucking scared They say when it rains, it pours, well this past year’s been an endless storm “Like I say, like I say” Will you find those words today? Now I’m sitting on an eastbound train to what will be your final resting place I’m not there as much as I should be, and I hate that I’m the only absentee I found a dog-eared page in a book left unread, a million things I’ve left unsaid Your eyes are shut but you nod along, and I’m wondering if you’ll ever get to hear this song There’s a reason why I’m holding back the tears I just don’t know how long that you’ll be here But hiding the hurt is easier said than done And you were never one for all the attention Yet I still choke on the lump in my throat With the feeling of dread that this shit evokes You’re the disappearing mist on a sunny day You’re fading out, you’re spiriting away There’s no chance of a happy ending Just holding out the time we have is extending I want to believe you when you’re lying through your teeth With four words that sum up your positive belief That you’re fit, fine and well Forever fit, fine and well

about

What the label say:

This is hardcore at it’s finest and is sure to be a contender for album of the year.

Throwing Stuff are a four-piece hardcore punk band based out of Manchester, England by way of London and Liverpool. Taking influence from the likes of Minor Threat, Paint it Black and Cold Ones, they play a fast, thrashy, no-nonsense punk that doesn’t take itself too seriously, but won’t shy away from the serious issues.

Fit, Fine & Well is Throwing Stuff’s debut LP. The title comes from the final line of the album closer, Father’s Day. A song about vocalist Ben’s experiences coping with his dad’s terminal, stage four brain tumour over the last year. Throughout his dad’s life, “fit, fine and well” has been the stock response to anyone who asked him how he was. Eighteen months on from diagnosis and two operations later, he still says he’s “fit, fine and well” as he battles what’s going on his head. Father’s Day is as honest and raw as Throwing Stuff have ever been lyrically, unrelenting and intense in the two minutes it lasts.

“I Know What’s Best”, a song about Ben’s mental health struggles in the last year, and Hangxiety, a thrashy number on the anxiety-ridden perils of getting battered, continue the Throwing Stuff’s more bleak, introspective shift compared to their earlier material.

When they’re not dabbling with doom and gloom, Throwing Stuff are usually angry about something. Whether that’s the trade in rhino horns (The Hunter), David Cameron’s leadership (We Wrote This Song Before David Cameron Resigned), the pitfalls of evolution (Whatever Made You Think that Paper Was So Valuable?) or genocide (The Butcher).

Due for release on April 7th, just in time for their trip around the UK with Aussie punk n’ rollers, Clowns, Fit, Fine & Well is a collection of songs that span almost the entire existence of the band, from the first practice right up to the studio floor.

Track listing:
1. Tracy Chapman
2. Whatever Made You Think Paper Was Valuable
3. The Butcher
4. Hangxiety
5. We Wrote This Song Before David Cameron Resigned
6. I Wish You Would Hibernate
7. I Know What’s Best
8. We Are Only Healthy To The Extent That Our Ideas Are Humane
9. F.U.B.S.
10. Token Beef
11. The Hunter
12. Five Pound Beers
13. How Do You Sleep At Night?
14. Steve’s Job
15. Father’s Day

What the critics say:

"Clever, quick and doesn't get old in a hurry" - William Scott, New Noise
"The very best in British thrash punk" - Daniel Rourke, Burn After Writing
"A rage against the machine hunk of punk rock anger and gut-wrenching emotion" - Punk Online
"Are you intentionally trying to take the piss out of me?" - Ian 'Tree' Robinson

credits

released April 7, 2017

Recorded, mixed and mastered at Crooked Rain Studios in Leeds by Bob Cooper

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Throwing Stuff Manchester, UK

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