“Back in the Pandemic”
No way is this “Best of…” A total train wreck, it has curiosity value. Released in June of 2020, recorded live in the Uppsala studio, the boys were joined by wailing guest guitarist Björn B., guest drummer Micki Lightstream, and a guest producer— who shall remain nameless. Also, their audio engineer had issues. This is take 9 of 16 takes recorded over a three-day period. By the last take, all the noisy blemishes had been cleaned up, Björn’s impossible guitar had been tamed and the Chinese gong no longer blew out the walls. Unfortunately, the song was no longer any fun.
Boring.
Despite the coronavirus, realPfft’s business manager at the time was visiting from the States. He had gotten a good price on his plane ticket. Now he was unhappy. Insisting on his right to listen to all sixteen takes, he came to take number 9 and said “There it is. That’s the song! What have you dudes been doing the last day and a half?” Like, there went mucho hours of Herculean effort flushed down the toilet.
Bands have broken up over less, but these are Swedes and they like one another. Agreeing that take 9 needed more treble, that’s all they added, leaving everything else alone. Unrefined, with a nod to the Beatles, a punk rock sense of rebellion and singer Clive Flatenbad channeling Joy Division, here is realPfft’s messy but fun “Back in the Pandemic.”
The cover art, from Clive’s personal archive, shows how our boy looked as a punk singer in the steamy 1980’s.
Back in the Pandemic
[ Sound of an airplane landing ]
Here’s a piece of concrete art:
Crushed out promises, a broken heart
Face up to truth wherever it finds you
Face up to love whenever it blinds you
Ten more years
And we’re all still here.
Escalating germs off of the plane
My brain’s cookin’, I’m goin’ insane
Time is measured in a crystal ball
The time clock sits at the end of the hall
She’s no friend, no, no friend…
You pretend… but she’s gone!
Patriotic songs by a patriotic fool
Gun-toting protesters think that it’s cool
Circles on the grass at the edge of the park
I wear a mask and a broken guitar
It’s your country, my country…
All our countries… gone.
Retail apocalypse, empty malls
Unemployment and the Stock Market falls
On the TV, the— evening— news
Happy talk by the prez just gives me the blues
Trump’s your man… lies all he can…
Until… he’s… gone!
Irreduceable summation
Of this once proud nation!
I hide behind my thumb
And eat up all of my ration!
Rocket ships leaving for outer space
Desert us to live in the same old waste
They’re gone… ten more years…
Of fear… Will we still-l-l… be here?
Open a packet of biscuits and a packet of beef
My light is waning, I’m not a thief
Church bell country ringing the changes
The Virus— Task— Force plans and arranges
Clueless… they’re a joke…
One more press conference… Then they’re… pzzzzzzt!
Parking lot examinations for Covid-19
I dig the vibe but dislike the routine
Trump says— the coronavirus
Will disappear by the end of the year
In quarantine, both you and me
People complain… this is tyranny!
“Social distancing?” you— may— well— ask
Six feet apart behind a mask
Everybody comes with the same old chant
“Wash your hands with soap and disinfectant”
It smells awful… Life’s no fun…
People crowd the boardwalk…Then, they’re… gone!
A blackout Sunday and I’m sleeping late
My parents died early but my brother can wait
March to the Capitol with all the other guys
Everything Trump tweets cannot be lies
Lonely funerals, dead rock stars…
And it’s all… they’re all gone!
My country, ‘tis of thee
It’s happening to you
It’s happening to me
You’re the one, I’m the one
Ten more years
And we’re all… all go-o-one
Lonely funerals, dead rock stars…
Then it’s all… we’re all gone!
yustyoking 
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