Detect, Disorganize, Defeat and Deny

by schultzzz

/
  • Includes unlimited streaming via the free Bandcamp app, plus high-quality download in MP3, FLAC and more.

     $7 USD  or more

     

1.
2.
3.
4.
5.
6.
04:07
7.
8.
9.
10.
02:00
11.
12.
13.
14.
15.
16.

credits

released August 7, 2016

tags

license

all rights reserved

feeds

feeds for this album, this artist

about

schultzzz California

One-man-band! Home recordings! Small town alienation! Absurd humor and musical complexity! Various levels of quality! Songs (as opposed to albums) free DL.

contact / help

Contact schultzzz

Streaming and
Download help

Track Name: Funny Kind of Pride
Hate us coastal elites, because our values is crap
but our tax money pays for the infrastructure you lack
you're so fuckin' moral, why can't we be like you
teen pregnancy, divorce, poppin oxy, flunkin' school

hate carpet-baggers , who stole away your pride
but for the Chinese factories, you'll bend and spread it wide
Who claims 'states rights' and 'heritage',
when they pass laws to bankrupt their own citizens?

in the name of pride, pollute your own water
in the name of pride, injure your own workers
in the name of heritage, close your own schools
in the name of heritage, disenfranchise voters

it's a funny kind of pride, it's only celebrated
when you give up your rights, to spite those you hated
Boss Hogg laughs at your ass, pockets New York cash
(faster)
foreclosed trailer, with an injured back,
fourth-grade education. but you got a sweet flag

your own leaders rip you off, strip away your safety net in order to give tax breaks
to foreign employers, but I'M the problem, because I eat ethiopian food and read?!?

that is ADORABLE.

in the name of pride, pollute your own water
in the name of pride, injure your own workers
in the name of heritage, close your own schools
in the name of heritage, disenfranchise voters

did that nose hurt when you sliced it off
and put a stars-and-bars band-aid on it?
Track Name: Moses Torquemada
inquisition! tribulation!
a new god ascends the throne
israelites in his sights
make them kvell and groan

change your ways, your fathers' ways
place no god before Him
prophet has become the only one
let me help you with your sins

MOSES TORQUEMADA
MOSES TORQUEMADA

see the sight, israelites
naked and drunk for days
peace offering, chant and sing
the golden calf, the pagan ways

slay them all Jews will fall
for usurper god Jehovah
after 3000 years, of gnashing tears
torquemada starts the cycle over

MOSES TORQUEMADA
MOSES TORQUEMADA

And when Moses saw that the
people were naked; moses
stood in the gate of the camp,
and said, Who is
on the Lord's side? let him
come unto me. Thus saith the
Lord God of Israel, Put
every man his sword

by his side, and go in
and out from gate to gate
throughout the camp, and slay
every man his brother,
every man his companion,
every man his neighbour.
Children of Levi did
according to the word of


Moses: and there
fell of the people three
thousand men . Moses
said, Consecrate yourselves
today to the Lord, even you
slayed your son, even you
slayed your brother; The
Lord bestows upon you a
blessing this day.

torquemada history’s monster
because he didn’t finish the job
moses new better, kill idolator
leave not one alive

no
one remains, to complain
the death of ancient Judaism
kill your niece, get made a priest
Be the hero of the tribe

MOSES TORQUEMADA
MOSES TORQUEMADA
Track Name: Bono's Botched Execution
bono takes 50 minutes to die
in botched execution
untested 'toxic cocktail'
to blame for the mishap
violent body buckling, grimacing, gasping, struggling to breathe.


warden brings the curtain down
so reporters can't see.
bono's body just a spazzing sillhouette
remind you of something?
singer's screams of pain are recorded,
leaked to internet
rated 'only tolerable song he ever made' by international board


cult members attack superbowl, hold teams and fans hostage
song used to torture cult members during ensuing siege

song is used in all
featuring colorful
silhouettes sitting
for hours fixing their
taaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaagssssssssssssssssss.



junkies lined up outside
unregulated
compounding pharmacies with pockets
full of crumpled ones.
clockers and corner boys patrol
the chain link fence

Got that pentobarbital,
sodium thiopental

Got that potassium chloride!
pancuROnium bromide

Got that miDAZolam!
Got that hydromorphone!
Track Name: Assed-Out by Math!
it's not MY fault - the algorithm did it
it can't be unjust - it's objective mathemetics
you're not screwed - your numbers just didn't add up
don't fuck with me, complain to MULTIPLICATION
i am forbidden to reveal the secret equation
which factors are weighted, or sourced from garbage
or left out altogether
THAT'S PROPRIETARY

assed-out assed-out by math!
assed-out assed-out by math!
assed-out assed-out by math!
let the algorythm hit 'em!

disposition matrix -decides who gets the d (rone)
value-added tests - determines what they teach (to you and me)
news-feed - your apps tell you what to read

compstat - determines who the cops come gunning (nothing racial)
quants - fake models cover up the front-running (always stable)
social attribute networks -are your contacts up to something? (spies are judging)

assed-out assed-out by math!
assed-out assed-out by math!
assed-out assed-out by math!
let the algorithm hit 'em!

punished for statistical likelihoods
punished for belonging to 'risky cohorts'
punished for what others have done
or what you might do, with that attitude, mister!
Punished just to game a metric
punished for your number falling under the thresh-hold
or over the threshold,
or because fuck you

power flows from the people, to the state,
to the wizzards of the Box of Black.
Track Name: Reagan Vs. Mordo
Voodoo economics: mystic, malign!
the dark arts spread throughout the land
i have sat at the feet of the Ancient One
Stolen his secrets, now the time has come….

THE STUDENT, WILL REPLACE THE MASTER

The Hoary Hosts of Market , begin chant of sacrifice
"By the Crimson Curve of Laffer!", the Master cries in surprise
He summons the specter of Nancy, Mommy's wreathed in rotting gowns
We curse you for a RINO! Your blood will Trickle Downnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn!!!!

The Master raised tax and ran deficits
compromised with democrats and soviets!
wouldn't privatize social security
we'd kill him if he tried to join today's GOP…..

THE STUDENT, WILL REPLACE THE MASTER
THE STUDENT, WILL REPLACE THE MASTER
THE STUDENT, WILL REPLACE THE MASTER
Track Name: RFID Kids
RFID in your son,
ritalin in your daughter!
smarter, safer, well-behaved!
crush the competition
make you look good
(or at least not-pathological)

only the best charter schools!
they don't have to take the tards,
so they have more time to help the kids cheat.
boost the scores, keep the funding.

above average, above average
there is no ‘different’, only ‘below average’.
there’s only one goal:
push the round peg in the square hole
more testing, more meds
more structure, more pressure
more more more more!!!!
everyone must be above average

cell shuts off if he doesn't take my calls.
car shuts off if he talks and drives
i like to call him when he’s driving
what’s he gonna do?

more metal detectors in the schools.
cops hold classes in how to be arrested properly.
if you pass, you get to keep your teeth!
internet? no problem!
the school computers have a one-way camera!
safe and secure!
that’s the key to good parenting

RFID in your son,
ritalin in your daughter
smarter, safer, well-behaved!
crush the competition
for a brighter future

point a finger? catch a gun charge
play outside? are you crazy!
neighbors will call the cops!
write an essay? call the nurse!
she’s got problems.
up the dosage.
adhd, aspergers, depression,
no more vaccines for you, kid!
just good healthy drugs
Track Name: 647 Tha Police
647 p.d.!
because jackboots make me horny
make em squeal like a pig, and I dug, can you dig?
smear glitter and crisco on the heat

647 p.d.!
searchin all his cavities
when I say fuck the law, that’s not a metaphor
take it all, literall-y!

647 p.d.!
word to cube and eazy-e
it ain’t 187, because I don’t got a weapon,
just my lube and my loofa with me

eatin donuts (which are) hanging off of my ween
keep the conduct lewd, with Officer Nude
when we do-it in the middle of the street

647 p.d.!
spooge on the badge of the chief
do it greek, do it french
make a Ham Sand-wench
when i bring a long a friend or three

647 the Man
all dressed like Tom of Finland
the crowd will enjoy, when we arouse and annoy
with a billy club made out of ham

647 on da fuzz
he doesn’t want to like it but he does
first he was a bigot, now he’s a confused piglet
and he’s so ashamed when he comes
Track Name: 300 in the Queue!
300 in the queue,
3,000 'fore i'm through
Metastatized konomi
L. Nono and K. Nomi!
15 new sub genres
Of grind-wave peking opera
RYM I scour, I must devour, I must devour
I must devourrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr


Only 1 person has what I need
Gone offline, the humanity!
Get stuff I hate for novelty
Queue grows exponentially
30 peers on my PC.
Conducting worldwide symphony
never felt so alive,
global dementia archive


Eat or be eaten, this ruthless addiction
A terabyte tray, at the weirdness buffet
A pirate tsunami, an unending thirst
An IP in Sweden, a blessing and curse
The more I consume the more I discover
A reverse Tantalus, a glutted morbid explorer
Punished by plenty, no time to listen
The foix-gras exploded by his own acquisition


Motherfucker your connection is slow
I’ll never share my Noun demo
Don’t know what it is but the title is ruuuude
This other shit's from Finland, playing techno on an Oud
until that blue turns into green,
can't leave the screen, it's killing me!
And just when I think it’s all over
I discover dude’s secret treasure folder
“fuck not again”

3,000 tunes with ‘butt’ in the title
200 hours of tree-frog recital
post-voodoo Peruvian bagpipe boogie
Webbern kazoo jams are not for the rookies
600 racist dildo ad jingles
Top thousand straight-edge chamber narwhals
Nazi-delic Belorussian skate-wave
10gigs of Kissinger's faves

Throw em in the queue when in doubt
Dee-ell ‘em all and let Pod sort ‘em out!
Dee-ell ‘em all and let Pod sort ‘em out!
Dee-ell ‘em all and let Pod sort ‘em out!
Track Name: Operation GFYIAUL
Activate - Project 'nine-aught-eight'
The Emergency Hubris Patrol!
DISA signals spread the word:
Codeword Pegasus is go!

Forward Challenge, Rex84
Those were just a drill!
The ones who created the disaster
are the ones most fit to rebuild.

Scramble NSC, the Successors Three
North and Rumsfeld giggle and shout
Congress can stay at a Holiday Inn
and order Nuclear Take-Out

To Mount Weather, to Raven Rock
Secret Subs and Doomsday Planes
Continuity of Government
Must always be maintained


Rioting negroes economic collapse!
catastrophic weather civil unrest!
nuclear winter a terrorist's blast!
Imperial Executive rises at last!

Cheney's first to arrive
though he's retired for years
Shuts the doors on the President
"Find your own bunker, chump!"

Hooks his heart up to the nuke generator
feeds on energy
At last, assumes his final form
Thank god for WWIII

NatSec act of forty-seven:
The camps open once more!
Await word from NCA
authorize the use of force

FEMA's nature revealed
Hurricanes were just an excuse
Restore the order from border to border
Let none of the mutants run loose

Operation G.F.Y.I.A.U.L.!
Operation G.F.Y.I.A.U.L.!
Operation G.F.Y.I.A.U.L.!
go fuck yourself in an undisclosed location.
Track Name: Post-Fatwa
post-rock: rock with no balls
post-metal: pretentious gimmicky shit
post-punk; tuff as Depeche Mode (or, 'see post rock')
post-modern: the only intellectual movement started by Alfred E. Neuman - think about it.

post-racial america: see post-feminism.
huffington post - sideboob gazette
postmortem - what you're going to be when i . . .
go postal - speaking of which
post office - gimme my passport!
post-hardcore: the audience will rock when I LET them rock. not yet . not yet.

if it has a post, don't bother, except apocalypses.
which is EXACTLY what you're going to get
once my minions enforce my fatwa.

post made of wood and rusty nails: up your butt

post-toasties: hella wangs in the cornnnnnnn
post-rave: I’m assuming this exists,
post-structuralism: don’t get me started.
post on facebook: when your deep world-changing thoughts simply won't fit into twitter

nothing has ever been made better by post.
just defanged over intellectualized, and surgically gelded
the post is holding up an invisible sign that says
END OF THE ROAD.
Track Name: Secret Interpretations of Secret Laws
sorry Senator, that law doesn't mean
what you think it did, when you voted on it.

executive findings. torture memos.
John Yoo getting busy with a post-it.
which he uses to slice eyelids off of , well, some folks.
the eyelids are kept in a vitrine at UC Berkeley,
home of free speech.

private legislation that applies to everyone.
only 3 copies printed
2 stored in a safe without a door in the pentagon
and a backup safe wedged in the vagina
of the statue of liberty

it's all perfectly legal.
you'll have to take my word for it
it was sprinkled with dust by the law fairy.
we harvest her every time cheney goes to gitmo.
i know he hasn't been Veep in 6 years.
But that's part of the law you passed.
Whether you knew it or not.

there's an exhaustive report of just how totally legal it is.
that report is also classified
we can you let you read the redacted parts though
it looks like the black flag logo.
cool, huh?
also you can't tell anyone about all the totally constitutional stuff in the report
the totally legitimate stuff.
The super totally legitimate stuff.
but you can publish a summary of the report about the report,
where you guess what it might of said
The summary will also be redacted.
and printed entirely in 'wingdings'.




you can only read it in a special room
no phones. no pencils. no lawyers.
also you need to wear this hat.

sorry Senator, we'll need to search your rectum.
make sure you didn't smuggle out any laws
when we were installing new drivers on the surveillance cameras
fuckin' windows, right?

here we go .
just relax.
look forward, not backward.
Track Name: I Was a Grunge Bomber for the FBI
Did you hear about the grunge band who blew up the bridge?
The used-car dealer with an ICBM kit?
The foot-locker manager with a pinto full of sarin?
The dude with an instagram full of ISIS LARPin’?

Hey Habib, we hear you’re up-tight
About infidel infiltrators taking your rights
You need a fake bomb? A scary twitter alias?
It’s like ‘my fair lady’ for a patsy terrorist

“the rain in spain falls mainly on the great satan!!!!!” x2

Hawala transfer to Palestine orphans?
Gitmo for you x2
Saudis fund ISIS, that’s not important
Give us the crude x2
Tom Clancy plots to juke FBI stats
Budget increase x2
While CIA arms tomorrow’s real threats
To the teeth x2

Let’s spy on this chef, because his felafel’s awesome
Ask him to bake a cake with radium frostin’
While you’re chasing and baking a cockamamie concoction,
Meanwhile the Chechens just blew up Boston.

“see, that’s exactly why we need more resources! We can go after real bad guys, or make fake ones up, but not both! Not with THAT attitude.”

Mossad is training American cops
Cops training ex-cons to plot
The cons training a schmuck in every mosque
“He’s still not violent! Show him some abu grahib snapshots!”
Track Name: American Achivements (MDC)
abandoned child, no one's baby
ward of the state, a human mistake
institutional living, will drive you crazy
grey buildings, grey people,
grey food, grey walls
life has just started, roommate is retarded
friends you got none, treated just like scum
no where to go, nowhere to hide
"ain't no love, ain't no pity, ya' stole me away from my mama's titty"
grey buildings, grey people,
grey food, grey walls

turned 18, see any hope?
think you'll fit, don't give a shit
forget your past, 'cause nothin' lasts
see some die, see shallow lies
no going back no going home
it's all pitch black

stuck on drugs goin' drinkin'
feelin' nuts goin' crazy
feel like shit feelin' queer
they got a label for this misbehavior
call this living goin' drinkin'
call this living i think i'm dying
nowhere to go nowhere to hide
no one to trust no on to confide in

no going back no going home it's all pitch black

big brother's a spy and he's watching you
so do as your told and fit in the mold
treat you cold, eat your soul
he's your guardian angel, he's the master of control
grey buildings, grey people,
grey food, grey walls
no going back, no going home it's all pitch black
and there's no god in heaven so get off your knees
Track Name: Kicking the Shins of Democracy
Small states wrecking America,
Tiny bullies, kicking the shin of democracy

Ugly little historical relics
Their kids leave and now they’re jealous
Wrecking our senate, extorting our funds
Electoral college is a puddle of scum
At 60-to-one the Senate’s a joke
Fuck a filibuster, we can’t even vote

merge or crush
merge or crush

"first in farts"
"merge me or die".
"the saliva state"
"the tiny state that just cries like a bitch"
"land of many skanks"
"fart-knocker paradise"
"gateway to rectum", etc.

Too-small state, nature’s mistake
30 is enough, fold ‘em all up
If you had a state worth living in
People’d move there, and in the house you’d win
You lack the numbers so you cheat
t-rex arms of states, a natural freak

merge or crush
merge or crush
merge or crush
merge or crush

Squish them together like leftover pla-doh
Track Name: Lincoln Didn't Free The Slaves, He Created The Homeless
Antebellum!
as a slave you were a treasure
the largest source of wealth
worth more than all factories
farmland or gold itself
a whole race of chattel, labor filled our banks aplenty
but now that you're equal, they won't loan you one penny


The slaves were beautiful, worth more than gold
we insured them in case they broke or got stole
but as free people they hold no value at all
but working in prison picking them cotton balls

Lincoln didn't free the slaves, he created the homeless.

No more house, no land, no food, no payoff. you're welcome
now get a job.

more recently!
as a citizen, you're useless, just a
cracker wage deflator , but
Chinese took your job, you got
fired from being surplus labor
a race of free people, whose wealth is five percent
of the former slave-owners, to whom you now pay rent

The slaves were beautiful, worth more than gold
we insured them in case they broke or got stole
but as free people they hold no value at all
but working in prison picking them cotton balls
Track Name: I'm Against It (Groucho Marx)
I don't know what they have to say,
It makes no difference anyway,
Whatever it is, I'm against it.
No matter what it is or who commenced it,,
I'm against it.,

Your proposition may be good,
But let's have one thing understood,
Whatever it is, I'm against it.
And even when you've changed it or condensed it,
I'm against it.,

I'm opposed to it,,
On general principle, I'm opposed to it.

[chorus] He's opposed to it.
In fact, indeed, that he's opposed to it!

For months before my son was born,
I used to yell from night to morn,
Whatever it is, I'm against it.
And I've kept yelling since I first commenced it,
I'm against it!