The Shape Of Punk To Come
Refused

DVD LINER NOTES

This disc will not play on a conventional CD player. Play this disc only on systems that feature a DVD logo. This disc will play three ways: Advanced resolution surround, Advanced resolution stereo, and DVD-Video compatible Dolby Digital 5.1.



Dennis: All things vocal

Kristofer: Guitar, Bass, Drums

Jon: Guitar, Samplers

David: Drums, Guitar, Melodica

Magnus Bj�rklund: Bass, Cello

Torbj�rn N�sbom: Violin

Jakob Munck: Upright Bass

Pelle Henricsson: Tambourine

...And introducing Andreas Nilsson as the Roadie, Driver, Sound technician,

Tour manager and occasional Bassplayer.

Recorded, Produced and Mixed by Eskil L�vstr�m, Andreas Nilsson, Pelle

Henricsson and Refused

at Tonteknik late 1997.


Surround mix by David Sandstr�m, Jon F Br�nnstr�m, Eskil L�vstr�m and Pelle Henricsson. May 2003 at Tonteknik Recording, Ume�. Surround and Stereo high resolution mixes, mastered June 2003 by Pelle Henricsson at Tonteknik Recording, Ume�.


Additional production at Min vilja �r folkets studio by Jon F Br�nnstr�m.

DVD authoring by Bobby Owinski at Surround Associates in Studio City, CA

Ah, in such an ugly time the real protest is the beauty.


Art direction by Dennis. Lay out by Dennis and Jos�. Photocollage by David.

Refused Photos by Ulf Nyberg. Backcover photo by Axel Stattin.

Management by Morgan Johansson at Moondog Entertainment - morgan@moondog.se

All songs published by Songs & Stories Publishing. Administered by Air Chrysalis.

c&p 2004, 1998 Burning Heart Records. Under exclusive license to Epitaph.


The people that aided us in the manic process that was the making of this album: Andreas Nilsson, Eskil L�wstr�m, Pelle Henricsson, Jakob Munck, Inger & Bj�rn Sandstr�m, Torbj�rn N�ssbom, Emil �dling, Robert Ahlenius, Micke �den, B�rje Friis, Peter Musikant, Fredrik B�ckstr�m, Patrick T. Daly, Jos� Saxlund, Jonas Eriksson, H�kan "H�kan-H�kan" Strandhag, Anders Johansson, Magnus H�ggren, Magnus Bj�rklund, Mogge, Ola, Putte, Fredda, Babs, Mudda, Ulf Nyberg, Gullsand.


Co-conspirators and comrades: Eivor, Torbj�rn, Jonas, Fredrik and Emma Lyxz�n, Lars, Kristina, Fredrik and Erik Steen, Ove Johansson, Eva, Emil and Malin Br�nnstr�m, Sara Almgren, Linda �str�m, Jonas Ros�n, Lemmy, Micke Berg, Per Helin and NONS crew, Tok-Tomas, Erik �sell, Abris, Adam, Axel, Lars, Pernilla, Fredde Purusam, Robin 18, Stuffe, Tomas DiLeva, Mark, Ute, David & Erik at MAD, Vique Martin, Kristian Gabel, Hans Hellberg, Markus, Daniel + VBG crew, Texas, Hedersveganerna, Johanna, Henke Sandstr�m, Bootleg-Bertil + family, Erik Ashram, Tim Bertilsson, Dregen, Biffen, Tive, Lina Svensson, Isse, Ludde, Jonas Ljuskille, NSMPD's Militanta falang, Maria Fredriksson + V�n, Olof Skrikhult, Ell�, Gislaved, Reine, Danne + Soulquake system, Steve, Kate & Baby Kaulini, Robban Roos, Tomas Tr�ger + Crew, David Schaefer, Danielli, Vegard Waske, Erland Backfire, Daryl, Tim, Bob, Scott, John, Frank, Kurt Catalyst, Duncan Barlow, Mike Phyte, Micke H�ggstr�m, Damien, Ola Glans, Henrik Oja & Masse, Andrea, Malin Dahlberg, Breach, Fireside, Randy, Purusam, Millencolin, Entombed, Teddybear, HOK, Candysuck, Caf� 44, Starmarket, Forced Into, Liberator, Samian, Satanic Surfers, Loosegoats, Outstand, Mindjive, Nine, EVR, Sick of it all, Madball, Snapcase, Victory Rec, Lifetime, Damnation A.D., Earth Crisis, J Church, Join the Teamplayer, Trans-solar, Phyte Records Desperate Fight Rec, Abhinanda, Bloodpath, Saidiwas, Separation, Eclipse, Plastic Pride, Final Exit, Cobolt, DS13, Ray Wonder, Trio Lligo, Blithe, Sindy Kills Me, Charcoal, Ates, Djurr�ttsalliansen, Frodus, Promise Ring, SEKAC, Nu �r det nog. Last but not least, the Refused van.


They come by night, cruising

in their uniforms and their dances

down the damp city streets, swinging along like mad weekend lovers to the stereo sound of liberation. They come as witnesses, spectators and participators, crazy, wild and drunk on love and noise. The speakers explode and we are blinded by a wall of sound, screams, beats. The movement flows through the room as the band is on fire, flying across the stage. Naive, beautiful, yet serious and scarred. The skinny, feminine looking singer touches his lips in a signal and gesture of communication and revolt. Wisdom flows like water and the new name, this new beginning, is like the bullet that the C.I.A. killed Kennedy with: relentless and hard. 2000 years of convention all gone up in smoke with a stroke of the burning guitar that Kristofer gently holds, caressing it like it's his baby, cause tonight it is. The beat hypnotises as the heat is felt through the room and we all take part knowing that revolution never felt more alive. David looks out over the stage and with the twist of a stick he takes us into places we never even thought existed where we believe and know for real that this is the time to live, fight, steal a kiss and eagerly join in. Get down, they scream, and we all get down, we all get with it and we take the plunge cause it feels good and when Jon, heavenly looking, stares into our eyes we know that nothing is wrong, that we will walk on water and look at each other with amazement. It's a night of magic and every note hits like a hammer. The smell of perspiration and perfume is flowing through the air as we hold each other tight, moving along to the manifesto. This could be the shape of punk to come, liberation theology in practise, togetherness spiting the dividers and rulers, the sum of our parts forming the gag in the mouth that voices the status quo, woven into fabric with every last thread of our defiance, sewn to fit like the shirt on my back. Or it could be just another sleepless midnight punk romance.


I met Dennis at a hardcore show in Stockholm several years ago. Since then, through many trips to Sweden, I have gotten to know Dennis, David, Stone, and Jon quite well. There have been many late nights talking, afternoons playing fris-bee golf, countless hours sitting around in Dennis' living room (which I have long since claimed as my room), and hard road trips while on tour. When they asked me to write a piece for this album I was surprised at their choice of person. They all know that I am not the biggest fan of the type of music that they play and I am definitely not experienced at writing liner notes. I may know little about music but I know a bit about what the people in the band have been doing, thinking, and experiencing since they made their last album. I suppose it is this that qualifies my thoughts on the matter as authoritative. What I feel that I am being asked to do is give a brief objective interpretation (if there can ever be an "objective" anything) of the underlying meaning behind a band like Refused releasing an album like this one. Now we shall see if I am up to the task at hand. To me this album is a reflection of tensions that exist within the band, or more to the point, most bands. These tensions are caused, in part, by diverging ideas, interests, and directions and, in part, by the obligations and responsibilities which being in a band dictate. There are multiple creative elements in a band which all contribute their part towards the creation of the whole. However, each of these people leads different lives and thus is propelled by different influences. To understand the impact of these individual differences one must turn to the underlying reasons behind the bands very existence. Initially, Refused came together with the common purpose of playing as a hardcore band. Getting the band up and running accomplished this. The commonality of initial purpose thus became obsolete to a certain extent. The initial purpose served as the adhesive and, when this dissolved, something further was required to insure cohesion. For some of the band members it is fact that the band provides a venue for the expression of ideas. For others, the band serves as an environment in which to refine and advance their personal musical ambitions. Being that ideas can be expressed to any sound track, it is the latter of the above functions that is most susceptable to the passing of time. As time passes, the limits of growth and progression within a set paradigm get reached. If it is the goal to continue to produce then there are two paths that can be taken: expansion outside of the set paradigm or stagnation and, inevitably, repetition.

The musicians, to be true to themselves, have to expand in new directions. While this satisfies their obligations to themselves, it also satisfies their obligation to their past and their influences. Their past is given continued meaning through their progression and building upon it. Also, there are few things worse than mocking music that you love and the musicians who created it by playing "down" to that music. A large part of what makes some bands so great is not just rooted in the actual music, ideas, or the fact that they "were the first to do it." Rather, it is that they were giving their best effort and playing at the edge of their abilities at all times. If a band ever finds that it is not doing both of those things then they are not playing the kind of music that they should be playing. The is no better tribute to a creative influence than being creative. For a band to satisfy themselves as a collective, the trajectory of growth and change has to be acceptable to all. However, it must be kept in mind that "acceptable" is often inherently a compromise and thus, laced with internal tensions. The satisfaction of the above often causes a new level of friction, that between the band and the people who like and support the band. It can be quite disappointing for a fan to get a band's new album and then find out that it is different in a way not approved of. I am sure that everyone can relate this feeling to the first time that they listened to "Stream of Consciousness" by Cryptic Slaughter or "Cold Lake" by Celtic Frost.

Differences are often smoothed over because there is a degree of change which is usually acceptable. Once this different has exceeded the acceptable limit then a fan can do one of two things: move with the band or let the band move past them. "What are they doing?" might be a question that is asked after the first spin of this record. I suspect that the band would be the worst source to go to for an answer to that question. I don't believe they could really tell you what they are doing or where they are going with this. All they know is where they came from, what they have done, what has been done by others, and what needs to be done. This is their response to the vague, yet compelling impulses which coaxes them onward. Is this really the sound and shape of punk to come? MaybeMaybe not. Regardless of what it amounts to, the band is trying out new possibilities, not just for themselves but for all whom expect them to create.



Patrick T. Daly

Oxford, United Kingdom

1997


The worms of the senses ponder quickly towards destruction. Winning is not everything but in our elitist competitive society it is all that matters. Rice cakes for the people and caviar for the leaders who built our world around machines, money and matter. We were left out of the plan and our destination is set by the used car dealer or the factory boss. Bored we walk home with our heads hanging and our creativity stolen as an effect of capitalist gain. In a dream state there is nothing more than simple abstraction of the mind from the matter and the belief that work will somehow "macht frei". The theory that Marx recognized from Feuerbach, and now we, the people, need to see the spectacle that binds us to our "destiny". Alienation is not commodity, figures, statistics or make-believe but very much a real tool of oppression and seclusion. If we can't take our part then we must not take part. The faculties of the skull are another dimension of that which is sucking us dry. The imperialisation of the third world is dominant even in our tasete for soft drinks and afternoon snacks. With dry wits and knuckles dragging the ground co-operations claim that profit is rightfully theirs and that the blood squeezed out of Africa, South America, Burma, The Baltic states and South Asia is nothing but market interest and public craving. Their products are death and they are salesmen of corruption and power abuse. They are the slave dealers of our time. They are the inquisition. They are the machine that must be stopped.

Turn the knob and wait for the liberating sound of ecstasy and revolution. Who pays the newsman and who owns the radio stations and who runs the record label? Who benefits from the de-politicizing in art and music and who benefits from the clean sound of the next pop wonder? Who runs the game show and who pays the salaries to the reporters? Here and now we offer you a taste of our liberation frequency, provided by us for your satisfaction and excitement. This is radio clash, 33 Revolutions Per Minute, our haven of thoughts and ideas. It could be yours too, if only you'd let yourself go and turn the knob and listen and love and sing and think.

Stuck by the deadly rhythm of the production line. Stuck by the conditions set by the capitalist market. Stuck by the necessities of living and forced to take part. If we are tired it is because we are supposed to be and if we are hungry it is because we have to be and if we are bored it is because it is expected of us. Bored and chained and stuck and dead. New forms of work camps are arranged and new ways of hiding the monotonous beat of slavery are being presented. The preliminary condition required for propelling the workers to the status of "free" producers and consumers of commodity was the violent expropriation of their own time. The spectacular return of time was made possible only after this dispossession of power. Urbanism is capitalism's seizure of the natural and human environment; developing logically into absolute domination, capitalism can and must now remake the totality of space into its own setting. Time, work, environment and joy all have their norms set by modern ways of production.

The awkward youngster touches his poster and glances upon the stars and the heavens. The day seems never-ending and there is a certain notion of innocence and childhood play. The mantra will be repeated and we will learn to obey and love and cherish the chosen few. Manners inconceivable and then we have to live. Ideals corrupted and echoes from the past about ideas once held true are shining like untouchable constellations. But we are all stars, shining and burning, cruising down the highway looking for the next stop and the next break from capitalised boredom and slavery. Then there is the option of summerholidays vs. punk routine. Then there is greed and money and fallen heroes. "We are all tired of dying". So why not try and live for a change and turn that glimmering into bright shining creation through the realisation that you know everything and that you are you?

Must I paint you a picture about the way that I feel? This situation of Art vs. Life and the present elitism within the bourgeoisie and upper-class. The critics hold their heads high cause they know about the real suffering and the real work while we get the easy accessible forms of communication and entertainment, pinned down simple for us to comprehend. The lack of stimulants within art, politics and life lowers our standards which is why we settle for talk shows and MTV. We are not stupid, but if we are treated like ingrates we will start to act like children. The lack of challenging forms of expression and thoughts of fire and self-confidence gives us a passive and hollow nature. So reclaim art, take back fine culture for the people, the working people, the living people and burn down their art galleries and destroy their fancy constructions and buildings. Cause we, unlike the bourgeoisie, have nothing to lose and therefore our expression will be the only honest one, our words will be the only challenging ones and our art will be the one revolutionary expression. We need new noise and new voices and new canvases to become something more than the last poets of a useless generation.

The credentials with which we call upon you are simple linguistics thrown and tossed like flaming songs of discontent. The Refused party programme screams out not 1, not 2, not 3, not 4, not 5 but 6 opiums and 6 structures of change and 6 levels of liberation. All in all not mystical but direct and attractive and as we shout "Yeah" you'll feel the same sensation best described by Thomas Paine: "Let them call me rebel and welcome, I feel no concern from it; but I should suffer the misery of devils, were I to make a whore of my soul. . . ". Here and no and all the time ther mythical touch and the obvious message. Behold the wisdom of the party program.

Pro (in favour) - attest (testify for). The time is now and still we sit and wait for it to become the now that we think that we need. The movement of protest has strong traditions and we are far from the first to recognise and use the power of the song and the words from the young poets. We are trembling from the taste of days gone to waste and there is inspiration and there is clarity. Phil Ochs stated firmly "If I have something to say I'm going to say it now" and still protest song 68 is nothing more than a pastiche, a blueprint of seduction of the echoes that once filled the corridors of dorms and boys/girls rooms in an era where rebellion and revolt was present in art and music. From the first until the last, from the taste of longing freedom to the shackles of oppression, the weapon of the artist has always been used.

Refused are fuckin dead that's what the answering machine said, looks like this is it!!! They talked on to many shit about the upper-class and the government, did you hear what those faggots said in some fanzine someone else read. I heard they are a bunch of spoiled little rich kids who need to get their asses kicked. Fucking ingrates! Fucking pussies!! Refused are fucking dead guaw huydsas kjhds aowedde (fighting sequence). Refused are fucking dead by order of the postmaster general just like the panthers only this time for real because SAPO have tapped their telephones and the Ume� police raided their homes and they must have been killed.

Are you ready baby? For the shape of punk to come. Get the equipment together and we'll meet at the show. It's gruesome that someone so handsome should care. We all recognise the hint of the programme screaming at the top of his lungs that "We're all dressed up and we got somewhere to go". Like the rebellious swing kids of the 40's or the crazy jazz heads of the 50's to the stylish mods of the 60's we all need to recognize that style in contradiction to fashion is necessary to challenge the conservatism of the youth cultures place upon us. Strict in our style but with a touch of elegance and freedom and individualism. The uniform and the production of constructive challenges comes in the most unexpected of shapes, Ornette Coleman reinvented jazz altogether and we need a new beat to move to so grab your partner and ask: Do you want to go out with me, watch me get on my knees and bleed? This blind date might take you to places unknown and it will be new and scary and vital. But nonetheless there is no danger in exploration and searching. It never tasted this great to scream "yes" and you never had a more enticing cavalier to hold hands with. The new teen hysteria of noise and kisses and politics and crazy entertainment and naked fun and beats and books and poetry and travelling and style. It's never been safe to live in a world that teaches us to respect property and to disregard human life. So drop your belongings and get on this soul train, dig the static sound and think that maybe this once there is just us, the kids, playing the day away, it's just us kicking over statues and smashing windows of houses of parliaments, just to show them who has the real power. This blind date will take us anywhere we want.

A dream only last so long. Imagine the pyramids inhabited by aliens and the dark corridors and the dreams and the longing for better financial conditions. The sweat pours down your neck and you run and you run, heart beating, head pounding, alive tonight. The streets never sleep, they are glowing, vibrating with the echoes of laughter and joy, screams and curses. We just need to take the time and see what it can offer us and how we can break free form this boredom that the capitalist reign has forced upon us. Tonight we can be as mighty as Tannh�user and we can tumble excited down the labyrinths and the turns knowing that deriv� is potent. So where do we go from here?

The Apollo programme was a hoax or so we say. The biggest lie was market economy that blinded us with the glory of prosperity and freedom. The deck was dealt and we all lost, on our knees in the dirt hoping for salvation and then we look and there are golden drops of dawn functioning as oral sagas, keeping us shackled, making glory of the lies that the spectacle provides us with. So as we sit tight and enjoy the soap operas that are designed to keep us bleeding out of our eyes and keep us nodding and sighing, there is still hope in the petrol bomb and in it, the revolution. For in the destruction and the overthrowing there is a certainty of salvation. We need to destroy the museum and it's old artifacts, we need to tear down the power structures that enslaves and then in revolution we can live and be alive. Yes, this is our hymn and our praise to the brave and bold stranger in the night, to the fed up worker and the angry wife. Hope, revolution and dedication. Fight fire with fire and everything will burn. Yeah.


This manifesto is very much for real.


(0) Worms of the senses

I got a bone to pick with capitalism and a few to break. Grab us by the throat and shake the life away. Human life is not commodity, figures, statistics or make believe. And yeah I like eating excrement and not getting paid for it. Play the guilt, play the fear and play the anxiety x2 Seduced by the opportunity and robbed of hope. Human suffering is not commodity, figures, statistics or make believe.

Marginalise away joy and sell us boredom.

And yeah I like working doing nothing and not making anything. Blame the poor, blame the uneducated and blame the sick x2


(1) (Faculties of the skull)

I took the first bus out of Coca-Cola city cause it made me feel nauseous and shitty.

I took the first bus out of Shell town cause they didn't want me hanging around

YEAH YEAH I took the first bus. Let's take the first bus out of here x8


(2) (Liberation frequency)

It's coming through the air for all of us to hear. Could it be the sound of liberation or just the image of detention?

We want the airwaves back, we want the airwaves back. We don't just want airtime we want all the time all of the time.

We want the airwaves back, we want the airwaves back. We want transmission for the people by the people.

What frequency are you getting? Is it noise or sweet sweet music? On what frequency will liberation be? On what frequency will liberation be? It's coming through the air for all of us to hear. Could it be the sounds of liberation or just the image of detention? Control my flower, business and news all ready to devour. Who's in charge and what does he say? Is he really playing the alternative or does it sound the same old way?

We want the airwaves back...


(3) (The deadly rhythm (of the production line))

This union that made us powerless is talking over our heads. Claiming prosperity in a downward spiral plan.

Stuck by the deadly rhythm of the production line. This power that made us unionless is taking out of our hands. Cheapest labour at our expensive cost, auctioned our lives away. We consume our lives like we are thankful for what we are being forced

into. Is it our duty to die for governments and for gods? Is it our privilege to slave for market and industry? Is it our right to follow laws set to scare and oppress? Is it our gift to stay in line and will it take away the blame?

We can no longer pay the price We'll get organised

We will no longer believe that working for you will set us free


(4) (Summer holidays vs. punk routine)

I'm tired of losing myself to some stupid childhood dream of what I could have been. Money proves the point and I'm stuck between summer holidays and punk routine. I shoot off a 100 things to remain more sorry than safe. You see, I only get this chance once and I can't let it be.And I'm still certain that what motivates me is more rewarding than any piece of paper could be. Well adjusted and corrupt, all those icons that stole our teenage lust. A scenario of simplicity, a scenario of you and me x2 Rather be forgotten than remembered for giving in. We're all tired of dying - So sick of not trying. Scared that we might fail -We'll accomplish nothing. Not even failure.



(6) (New noise)

Can I scream?

It's here for us to admire if we can afford the beauty of it. If we can afford the luxury of turning our heads. If we can adjust that $1000 smile and behold the creation of man. Great words won't cover ugly actions and good frames wont save bad paintings.

We lack the motion to move to the new beat. When the day is over the doors are locked on us. Cause money buys the access and we can't pay the cost. And how can we expect anyone to listen if we are using the same old voice? We need new noise, new art for the real people

We lack the motion to move to the new beat.

We dance to all the wrong songs and we enjoy all the wrong moves. We are not leading. Yeah. The new beat x10000

(7) (Refused Party-program)

This is the pulse - This is the sound. This is the beat of a new generation. This is the movement - This is the rhythm.

This is the noise of revolution. Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah. Refused party program x 3 Yeah yeah yeah yeah.


(8) (Protest song '68)

To sing you must first open your mouth. You must have a pair of lungs and a little knowledge of music. It is not necessary to have an accordion, or a guitar. The essential thing is that I want to sing. Then this is a song, I'm singing. -H. Miller

I breathe in and I create - rewoke the spirit 68. Fresh meaning to torn ideas - let's bring life to old clich�s.

Punch a hole in tradition - yeah let's listen. To the songs of discontent - the chords and the movement.

It could all be so simple. We would all stand baffled by the precision and accuracy. Our jaws would hurt from dropping so hard, fast and unexpected. It would be the perfect metaphor. It would be the perfect song we'd be singing.

I breathe out and I scream - rewoke (Kropotkins) Malatestas dream. Inspiration from the past - focus to the future at last

Fixed dogmas can't substitute - creative thought and action We could be dangerous - art as a real threat.

And all it is is words. Words said a million times before. And all it is is a song. A song sung a million times before.

I breathe in and I create - rewoke the spirit 68. I breathe out and I scream - rewoke Malatestas dream.


(9) (Refused are fucking dead)

Beyond ability and control we could be weekend lovers. Steal a sentence and make a catch phrase parole for our revolution. Whispered all across the street about the new cool call. Or screamed at your face like a scabs payroll. Faces like angels, licking our fingertips. We don't have the patience to deal with it. With battered bodies and puckered lips. We don't have the patience to deal with it. A naive young secret for the new romantics. We express ourselves in loud and fashionable ways. Yeah, get down, get down, yeah. Can I get a witness? This I gotta see. Bring it in one more time for me x2 We don't have the patience x4


(10) (The shape of punk to come)

Hey baby you never felt this good. Freedom through the stereo and you wish you could. Take a bite and do a dance and get lost on a crusade. Jump on this soul train with destination unknown. Hey baby never felt this free. A pair of new shoes and a punk rock show to see.

Give acclamation to these blue ribbon babies. And check the calendar for the expiration date. We've all been bitten - we've all been underground. We've all been beaten, battered, bruised, told to get down. All dressed up with somewhere to go. I told you so. Adolescent beats with a new thing to see. Smashed guitars just like you've seen on TV. With burning speakers and flaming hair. We'll have a riot right here.


(11) (Tannh�user / Deriv�)

So where do we go from here? Just about anywhere. Disorientated but alive. Boredom won't get me tonight.

Let's bring this city to life - to light - tonight

There is no destination. But with a goal in mind. We can be realistic. And demand the impossible.

Let's bring this city to life - to light - tonight.


(12) (The Apollo programme was a hoax)

Petrol bombs and barricades - Anything to have our say. Consequence of no choice at all - Empires rise and empires fall. It's time to flip some coins and it's time to turn some tables. Cause if we have the vision I know that we are able. Suck on my words for a while and choke on the truth of a million dead. There is no prestige in your title, we are after your head. The destruction of everything is the creation of something new. Your new world order is on fire and soon you'll be too.

Sabotage will set us free. Throw a rock into the machine.

CD LINER NOTES

The People that aided us in the manic process that was the making of this album: Andreas Nilsson, Eskil L�wstr�m, Pelle Henricsson, Jakob Munck, Inger & Bj�rn Sandstr�m, Torbj�rn N�ssbom, Emil �dling, Robert Ahlenius, Micke Ad�n, B�rje Friis, Peter Musikant, Fredrik B�ckstr�m, Patrick T. Daly, Jos� Saxlund, Jonas Eriksson, Hakan "Hakan-Hakan" Strandhag, Anders Johansson, Magnus H�ggren, Magnus Bj�rklund, Mogge, Ola, Putte, Fredda, Babs, Mudda, Ulf Nyberg, Gullsand.

Co-conspirators and comrades: Eivor, Torbj�rn, Jonas, Fredrik and Erik Steen, Ove Johansson, Eva, Emil and Malin Br�nnstr�m, Sara Almgren, Linda Amstr�m, Jonas Ros�n, Lemmy, Micke Berg, Per Helin and NONS crew, Tok-Tomas, Erik asell, Abris, Adam, Axel, Lars, Pernilla, Fredde Purusam, Robin 18, Stuffe, Tomas DiLeva, Mark, Ute, David & Erik at MAD, Vique Martin, Kristian Gabel, Hans Hellberg, Markus, Daniel +VGB crew, Texas, hedersveganerna, Johanna, Henke, Sandstrom, Bootleg-Bertil + family, Erik Ashram, Tim Bertilsson, Dregen, Biffen, Tive, Lina Svensson, Isse, Ludde, Jonas Ljuskille, NSMPD's Militanta falang, Maria Fredriiksson + V�n, Olof Skrikhult, Ell�, Gislaved, reine, Danne + Soulquake system, Steve Kate & Baby Kaulini, Robban roos, Tomas Tr�ger + Crew, David Schaefer, Danielli, vegard Waske, Erland Backfire, Daryl, Tim, Bob, Scott, John, Frank, Kurt Catalyst, Duncan Barlow, Mike Phyte, Micke H�ggstrom, Damien, Ola Glans, henrik Oja & Masse, Andrea, MalinDahlberg, Breach, Fireside, Randy, Purusam, Millencolin, Entombed, Teddybears, HOK, Candysuck, Caf� 44, Starmarket, Forced Into, Liberator, Samian, Satanic Surfers, Loosegoats, Outstand, Mindjive, Nine, EVR, Sick of it all, Madball, Snapcase, Victory Rec, Lifetime, Damnation A.D., Earth Crisis, J Church, Join the Teamplayer, Trans-solar, Phyte Records, Desperate Fight Rec, Abhinanda, Bloodpath, Saidiwas, Seperation, Eclipse, Plastic Pride, Final Exit, Cobolt, DS13, Ray Wonder, Trio Lligo, Blithe, Sindy Kills Me, Charcoal, Ates, Djurr�ttsalliansen, Frodus, Promise Ring, SEKAC, Nu �r det nog. Last but not least, the Refused van.

And introducing Andreas Nilsson as the Roadie, Driver, Sound Technician, Tour manager and occasional bassplayer.
Recorded, produced, mixed and mastered by Eskil L�vstr�m, Andreas Nilsson, Pelle Henricsson, and Refused at Tonteknick and Bomba Je late 1997.

Art direction by Dennis
Lay out by Dennis and Jos�
Photocollage by David
Refused Photos by Ulf Nyberg
Backcover photo by Axel Stattin
Booking by Luger
Management: Moondog Entertainment: PO Box 2038, 10311 Stockholm, Sweden
All songs published by Burning Heart Publishing/songs & Stories.
Administered by Air Chrysalis.