The Jam was onderdeel van de eerste Britse punkgolf, maar ontleende haar inspiratie eerder aan oerbritse bands als The Who en The Small Faces dan aan The Stooges, de New York Dolls en de Ramones. De artistieke glorieperiode van de band ligt tussen 1978 en 1981 toen zanger/gitarist Paul Weller het ene juweeltje na het andere componeerde. “Down in the Tubestation At Midnight“, “The Butterfly Collector“, “The Eton Rifles“, “Going Underground”, “That’s Entertainment”…het lijstje gaat maar door. In mijn persoonlijke top 100 zouden waarschijnlijk meer songs van The Jam staan dan van enige andere band. En dat is inclusief The Beatles.
Speciaal aanbevolen: de compilatie Snap!, uitgebracht onmiddellijk nadat Weller de band op het hoogtepunt van haar roem opblies.
Some people might say my life is in a rut
But I’m quite happy with what I got
People might say that I should strive for more
But I’m so happy I can’t see the point
Somethings happening here today
A show of strength with your boy’s brigade and
I’m so happy and you’re so kind
You want more money, of course I don’t mind
To buy nuclear textbooks for atomic crimes
And the public gets what the public wants
But I want nothing this society’s got
I’m going underground
(Going underground)
Well, the brass bands play and feet start to pound
Going underground
(Going underground)
Well let the boys all sing
And the boys all shout for tomorrow
Some people might get some pleasure out of hate me
I’ve enough already on my plate
People might need some tension to relax
I’m too busy dodging between the flak
What you see is what you get
You’ve made your bed, you better lie in it
You choose your leaders and place your trust
As their lies put you down and their promises rust
You’ll see kidney machines replaced by rockets and guns
And the public wants what the public gets
But I don’t get what this society wants
I’m going underground
(Going underground)
Well, the brass bands play and feet start to pound
Going underground
(Going underground)
So let the boys all sing
And the boys all shout for tomorrow
We talk and we talk until my head explodes
I turn on the news and my body froze
The braying sheep on my TV screen
Make this boy shout, make this boy scream
Going underground, going underground
Going underground, I’m going underground
The braying sheep on my TV screen
Make this boy shout, make this boy scream
Going underground
(Going underground)
Well, the brass bands play and feet start to pound
Going underground
(Going underground)
So let the boys all sing
And the boys all shout for tomorrow
Well, the brass bands play and feet start to pound
Going underground
(Going underground)
So let the boys all sing
And the boys all shout for tomorrow
