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First album out in june 2k14


released June 14, 2014

Recorded live, engineered and mixed by Amaury Sauvé at La Senelle Studio in Laval, FR
Mastering by Jack Shirley at The Atomic Garden Recording Studio in San Francisco, USA.




More Dangerous Than a Thousand Rioters Strasbourg, France

Qualified as "more dangerous than a thousand rioters" in the files of the Chicago police departement and after gaining freedom over her slave condition, Lucy Parsons became one of the most revelant member of the revolution movement in the US.
Created at the end of 2011 in Strasbourg, MDTaTR lyrics and inspiration are set to stand along Lucy Parsons' hate for every form of oppression.
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Track Name: A Quack Nostrum
I'll have fun crushing your crown, I don't believe in dreams of the uptown. Irritative poverty & creative destruction, downtowns weaker than billions. Nothing to lose but our regrets, I want to be a real threat. Diversion is a quack nostrum, a sanctum, an easy kingdom. I am not afraid of boredom. Are your ready to start a riot?
Track Name: Perpetual War
Personal acceptance is a perpetual war.
Many are the assaults, many are the aggressors.
Uncountable are the victims, and we are often both.
The hatred of oneself for the most.
Our relationships are battlefields.
Blamed for being thin.
Shamed for being fat.
Laughed for being small.
But in the end, we all lose,
I denounce but I know I'm sinful,
I accuse and I plead guilty.
Track Name: Tears Won't Fill
Even when we need to push to go ahead, when we carry too much to go further. Rainy clouds know no borders. tears won’t fill our gas tank. At the end of the Danube everything is not black. The keys are never really lost, keep your head up to avoid the pain. We cannot guess what trouble lies ahead but we’re going on, day after day. And if we're all-in, struggling with the sun, no misfortune will ever bring us down. Don’t drop the disc to cheer your friends.
Track Name: Wackelkontakt (a lighthouse collapse)
My life is a never-ending rough sea, constantly standing in front of me. I wish you were here. I'll keep your compass, the rhythm of your path ringing, lasting in our ears, in our hearts. Since there is no one to got my six, every run of the clock hand leaves me a nick. We never put a word on the evidence, near me, I would keep a foxglove. I was not ready for a life of pain. But you lost us all, and I hope you're fine.
Track Name: Striving for Nil
"Tell me what good is a phone call when you are unable to speak."
Tell me what good is change when you are unable to choose.
I would have take the blue pill,
There's no such thing as a chosen one.
You may see the spoon bend,
But police lines are still straight as a die.
Great is the temptation to unplugged ourselves but
Factory lines are always under voltage.
Thinking outside the box but fighting inside.
All the rest is striving for nil.
We need to throw up the red one.
There's no such thing as a godsend.
"Tell me what good is a phone call when you are unable to speak." Tell me, tell me.
Tell me what good is change when you are unable to choose. Tell me, tell me.
Track Name: Point de rupture I
Je les entends crier la France aux Français, jouer à la France offensée, je les vois s'imaginer se poiler dans les tranchées pour déloger l'étranger. Et moi j’ai qu’un seul rêve, aucune trêve, contre mon patron, ma patrie j’ai pas le trac. Comme un bandit contre banquiers qui préfère la contrebande à leurs banquets. Prêt à traquer leurs esprits étriqués, pour les mettre tricards jusqu'à les faire craquer. C'est ce que je vais faire alors, il est temps d'aller croiser le fer ailleurs, et quitte à y perdre des plumes, et pas qu’un peu : ça me fait pas peur O.K. ? J’ai les nerfs, mais c'est la guerre. Instinct grégaire. Saurai-je assurer la force nécessaire pour renverser la situation ? J'ai perdu tout sens de la mesure, je ne perds plus de temps, j'ai pas les clefs, mais je m'accroche sans me faire porter. Sans armure, je monte d'un ton, demande leur silence. C'est pas qu'une catharsis, c'est plutôt comme en 36, révolutionnaire dans la praxis avec un pointe de haine pour la police. Rancunier, je suis plein de rancœur et me rends compte de l'ampleur de l'affaire. Ça me donne envie de partir, mais pourtant je suis partant. Pour que la peur change de camp, et les mœurs changent de temps. Parce qu’ici pas de miséricorde, elles sont trop nombreuses à être mises dans les cordes.
Track Name: May 1st, 1955
Appeals for calm are getting on my nerves, always being asked to justify our anger, to excuse our rage and to explain our struggles. Does it make no sense enough to be pissed off with the culture of exploitation and misery? All the best things are made by anger and even more when shared. Edgy but with a common purpose, I'll never deplore what we did together. The newspapers are also speaking with one voice, but who's surprised that it's the State one? May, 1st 1955 the Algerians took to the streets, the judge seemed not to understand that I was with them, and I said "but i'm not french, I am a worker."
Track Name: With Spades and Hoes and Plows
MUSIC VIDEO : https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yDS_TmYwY38

"But the gentry must come down and the poor shall wear the crown. Stand up now diggers all, stand up now, stand up now". I can hear his cry to the depths of the mine, his tears won't fill the coalfield but my heart. I made my life in this hand-dug shrine, a life between firedamps and carts. I have to put up with it, no he won't be a prizefighter but a ballet dancer. I don't want to be a scab, no I don't. A choice between my son and colliers. "Your houses they pull down stand up now, stand up now." Months of strike cut into my meager savings. Lesson tickets for my son aren't expensive but i can't afford it anymore. I'll feel ashamed, but now I’ll sit down and go back in the mine. Four centuries apart, diggers and miners, they didn't give up. Kings and lawyers, same attitude, same shared interests.
Track Name: Point de rupture II
Est-ce qu'on devrait arrêter de tout questionner parce que tu crois que c'est trop tard ? Est-ce qu'on devrait se calmer parce que tu penses que c'est perdu d'avance ? Est-ce qu’on devrait rien remettre en cause parce que la paix sociale te réussit ? Si on a choisi notre camp, c’est qu’on sait contre qui se battre. Point de rupture. Pas de miséricorde, plein de rancœur. Saurai-je assurer la force nécessaire pour renverser la situation ? Pour que la peur change de camp, et les mœurs changent de temps.
Track Name: Tyke
After 20 years of torture for what they call culture. The circle was on fire but freedom is her only desire. Tyke gets angry and runs away, her chains can't no longer make her stay. The circle was on fire, she is free like a grassfire. But eighty-six shots later, deafened by the sirens, her grey skin was on fire. Tyke gives up and kneels over. They are not our enemies, because we can means we must. For all the ones we killed, for the beings who still suffer and die. For spending our life saying: "No. Not me, not my fight, not my problem, not tonight."
Track Name: Forgotten from the History Books
We are the voiceless and the forgotten. We are invisible, on and on no one knows we're in. On and on no one worries now. Forgotten from the history books, we're denied social recognition so that we must fit in. Understate and minimize our pain, and hide that we're underdogs. Society seems so fair and quiet if you disclaim social struggles. If you use euphemism to blind yourself and give reason to the ones you see, the ones you hear. The ones who'll be remembered. Voiceless. Speechless. Breathless.

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