This one's called
Vanity
Press.
You've got to be a member
Before they let you in
You can 't get a word in edgewise
Unless you shout above the pen
Your heart's gotta be in the wrong place
The tension's gotta be thin
Don't fall for the old trap
Of self -publishing
You're not working for the vanity press
Can you deliver something
that'll pass the test?
Gotta have more hoes than
your old string fest
Gotta be a puff piece that
only shows the best
Have the boy next door and
it's great success
Of getting married to the
girl next door
You've got to own every channel
If you wanna own every mind
You gotta wear a skirt by
Chanel
Or a suit by
Primaline
If you want to make the next is sue,
you better get your skates on, boy.
With a premise as thin as tissue,
you're bound to get employed.
Now you're working for the vanity press,
need a conscience on the editor's desk.
You gotta back up your facts
or you shall reject.
Gotta be a piece that only shows the best
Not the one next door,
and it's great success
Of being better than the one next door
Yeah
Vanity
Press
Vanity
Press
Vanity
Press
Don't get clever,
keep a real tight tether
They can bump you over through
the spots and weather
Send you over to the boys next door
If you wanna make the deadline
Make sure your line is dead
If you got any bright ideas
Keep them in your head
Cause you're working for the very best
Leave your conscience
on the editor's desk
Now the anti -media is the vanity press
In a fictitious world,
you can't invent the rest
That's all you need to pass the test
An d sell it to the guy next door
Yeah, we're all working
for the vanity press
Leave your conscience
on the editor's desk
Now the anti -media is the vanity press
So sell it to the guy next door
Sell it to the guy next door
You gotta sell it to the guy next door
Yeah, sell it to the guy next door
You gotta sell it
You gotta sell it
You gotta sell it to the guy next door
Sell it, sell it
Sell it to the guy next door
Meanwhile, I'm still thinkin'
about what I just saw
Yeah, me and my jaw dropped
Sell it, you better sell it
Sell it to the guy next door
Yeah, you gotta sell it
Yeah, sell it
Sell it to the guy
One, two, three, four
We are out workin' for the vanity press
You know it makes sense.
I'm going to do something from,
oh by the way,
Songs
With
No
Consequences is not
just my new album, it's
The
Figs' as well, they play on it.
That's, you know, where the sort of, you know,
I try to write all these dumb songs, you know,
but it's turned out to be a bit
cleverer than I thought.
Clever lads, clever, clever lads.
We're going to do something from
Howling
Wind, my first album.
This one, the figs were just, you know,
figlets when I made this album.
And our
Fig du
Jour tonight,
Brett
Rosenberg, was just a twinkle in his
dad's eye when I made this album.
In fact, this shirt is older than
Brett is, I swear to
God.
I found it in the attic the
other day, pulled it out.
Ian
Dury.
These, yeah.
It's on the back.
Yeah.
The lates, great.
These pants I found as well, they're getting a bit thin here,
you can see my leg through
them.
They're probably older than
Brett as well, so you know,
some relics up here, well there's
a relic up here on stage,
what am I talking about?