- published: 28 Jul 2013
- views: 3980
Bogshed were an independent band formed in Hebden Bridge, Yorkshire, England in 1984, originally as The Amazing Roy North Penis Band.
The band formed in early 1984 and comprised Phil Hartley (vocals), Mark McQauid (guitar), Mike Bryson (bass guitar), and Tris King (drums). Bryson also produced the cover art for the band's releases. The name came from a misheard line in a song, with Hartley explaining "I like the way that the mouth moves when you say Bog Shed". They were helped initially by The Membranes, leading to several performances in London, and the band's first release was the Let Them Eat Bogshed EP on John Robb's Vinyl Drip label in 1985. By the time of this release, the band had already played around 35 concerts and, according to Hartley, written between 80 and 100 songs.
Not really sounding like anyone before or since, they had much in common with some of the bands on the Ron Johnson label. Bryson explained their approach to songwriting: "We start out being totally out of order and out of key and we turn things like that into a pop song. Most people try to do it the other way round." They released two albums and several singles as well as recording five Peel Sessions, before splitting in 1987. Two of these sessions, from 1986, were issued on the Tried and Tested Public Speaker EP in January 1987, described by Liz Evans in Underground as "a mixture of throbbing, jogging rhythm and a bleating voice which rolls those words around and spits them out with plenty of spleen and bile".
[Intro]
Party people in the place to be
Party people in the place to be
Party people in the place to be
Ladies N Gentlemen, he's BDB
A.K.A. you host for the evening
By your people, he believin in fake MC's
[Buckshot]
A lot of y'all, think you know it all
Want me to fall, but y'all the same niggas at the party on the wall
Askin shorty to dance, do she wanna groove, no chance
She fuckin wit Buck, I'm on the move, you understand
Stupid, wise up and get intelligent
See that hardcore speakin is irrelevant
Teachin, when I'm on the streets and
When I'm at a show I see my niggas is defeatin
The purpose, no longer am I nervous
I told you, you shittin on me, I'm comin back to blow you
When I do this, don't act like it's a shock to you
If I shock you when you bow down, say true
Now you can say you knew you was fuckin wit the general
But generally speakin, I didn't even know you
But I knew your kind, I dealt wit the same mind
Saw the same plan, ended at the same time
[Chorus]
Party people in the place to be
Party people in the place to be
Party people in the place to be
Ladies N Gentlemen, he's BDB
A.K.A. you host for the evening
By your people, he believin in fake MC's
Buck got plenty extra greevin, breathin
You know that I shall proceed
[Buckshot]
I can't wait to get rid of y'all Captain Crunch niggas on the mic
One hit wonders, scared of the under, I'mma bring the light
To make ya niggas come out of the closet
You might have to see me in the party, watch it
I set the flame, see usually the aim is
To burn down the cane field, must remain real
Keep the stainless steel
Bulletproofs the proof that the streets is real
Two shots to the belly, now the body feel ill
I will take ya niggas right above the hill
And everybody got the skill, one spliff
Two, three, four spliffs, and make ya ball out
Everybody call out, it's the black, that make you lay back in the cut
And ask "What the fuck is that?" nigga chill, relax
[Chorus]
[Buckshot]
I bomb first, leavin no time for you to rehearse
When you hear the gunshots, nigga disperse
Shit gets worse if you persist, and tryin to diss, son, imagine this
The vocalist, every time I told you this
You told me that you knew in that I owned you this
What owned you this? My niggas be retaliate
Had to make an example of niggas and demonstrate
How we don't fuck around wit y'all
We might bring the pound for y'all, bust a round at ya
Police put the shell up in the jar, for the evidence
Kid, ever since I was fifteen, I was liftin
Big clips and magazines, readin them and heatin them
Put them in the bottom for the enemy to plead son shot him
Got him cuz he want to be the talker and the big spender
Until he got hit, bump the fender
Now he's misdemeanor minded, always caught up in some petty shit
Til he got wit BD, now he ready, kid