The Martyr Index

Jenny From le bloc - Lead Vocals

Marek Vermin - Lead Vocals + Guitar + Harmonica
Jimmy James - Guitar
Ian “The Baker” Maki - Bass + Vocals
Casey Lewis - Contraptions + Percussion + Vocals + Keyboards

All Songs Creative Commons 2008 The Martyr Index except “Security” Creative
Commons 2008 The Martyr Index and Spencer Jo Burgess
Produced by Casey Lewis and the Martyr Index
Recorded, Mixed and Mastered at Echo Base Studio by Casey Lewis

Guests:
Violins by Philip Sebastian Cimolai
“Sermon on the Rock” on The Baghdad Shuffle by Reverend Motown Philly
Introduction Guitar Lead on It’s Called Rock n Roll by Jackson Phibes
Bellowing Vocals on Divide et Imperia by Jeff Iversen
TMI Chorus: Bel Biv D’Beau, Gayrot Hamtrix, Sha-Pam! Hyde, Lindsay
May Read, Basket Weevers, Carl, K-Hova Battlesnake, Garfield Thelonious
Remington III, Teddy Famous, Stewart Sharples, Chester ‘Chet’ Wirthmoore,
Shart Beeswax, J-KO, Caitlin Jane Parsons, James Bell, Cynthia “Cynful”
Synenko, “photog”, Marcus Levar Lake, Iain Law, and Robert David “straight
edge al” Alexander Whitford

All artwork Creative Commons 2008 The Martyr Index

Photography: Kyle Weevers
Lighting: Matt Eakin
Modeling: Kelsey Andries
Make-up: Jaimie Hackston
Art Direction: Marek Vermin
Album Design, Photo Manipulation and Layout: Marek Vermin
A WoRD AND a bEAT
Feedback from the satellites, it’s all just
a cycling hummmm. Loops of palatable
plastic waste: chewing digital bubble-
gum. Don’t stop running when you
hear it coming, We’ve gotta keep us
on the move. The steel wheel’s turning
as the flags are burnin’ And we’ve got
nothing to prove - Nothing to prove!
We are doing fine. Down here rockin’
all the time. With a word and a beat
and 600 watts a strumming, From the
underground you can hear the train a
comin’, yeah!
A manifesto issued forth today from the
disautomatik brigade. It said “Gone are
the days of the streets of romance And
the safe, safe, censored airwaves. We
kick our radios off the bridge tonight,
We steal our music back from the sky
We mash-up, trash-up, love like we
love, ‘cause we’re taking our own
piece of the pie! And there ain’t no
“why?”
“What is called the music business today... is not the business of producing music. At some point it became
the business of selling CDs in plastic cases, and that business will soon be over.”
We are doing fine! Down here rockin’
all the time. With a word and a beat
and 600 watts a strumming, From the
underground you can hear the train a
comin’ miles away!
We are doing fine! Down here rockin’
all the time. With a word and a beat
and 600 watts strumming, From the
underground you can hear the train a
comin’ miles away! We are doing fine
Roots radicals rockin’ all of the time
With a word and a beat and 20 strings
strumming, In the underground you can
always hear it coming! Yeah!
We’re doing fine! And we don’t mind!
We’ll be just fine! When the industry
dies! Let it die!
Words and Music by Marek Vermin
- David Byrne
wASPS To honey
It takes a certain kind of measure,
Transforming genius into gold. Like
an orgasmic venal pleasure That only
leaves you cold. Sweet, decadent
sensation Exists for nothing but itself
A suicidal situation - Profit over all else
Can you hear the swarm a comin’?
Sleek suits, red ties, Fortune clinging
like the truth to lies. Like wasps to
honey, That swarm don’t care ‘bout
who made their money. Bright whites,
glib eyes - What’s it take to forget
those lies? Like wasps to honey
Swarm after swarm, and they just keep
coming
It’s just an automatic gesture When
you train it from birth. Reach in to
apply pressure And squeeze for all
it’s worth. Can you hear the hive a
buzzin’?
Sleek suits, red ties - Fortune clinging
like the truth to lies. Like wasps to
honey, That swarm don’t care ‘bout
who made their money. Bright whites,
glib eyes - What’s it take to forget
those lies? Like wasps to honey
Swarm after swarm, and they just keep
on coming, yeah!
Words and Music by Marek Vermin

“Some of the most infamous human rights violations of this era, which have tended to be viewed as sadistic
acts carried out by anti-democratic regimes, were in fact either committed with the intent of terrorising the
public or actively harnessed to prepare the ground for radical free-market ‘reforms’.”
- Naomi Klein (The Shock Doctrine)

“...under capitalism, we can’t have democracy by definition. Capitalism is a system in which the central
institutions of society are in principle under autocratic control. Thus, a corporation or an industry is, if we were
to think of it in political terms, fascist; that is, it has tight control at the top and strict obedience has to be
established at every level - there’s little bargaining, a little give and take, but the line of authority is perfectly
straightforward. Just as I’m opposed to political fascism, I’m opposed to economic fascism. I think that until
the major institutions of society are under the popular control of participants and communities, it’s pointless
to talk about democracy.”
- Noam Chomsky

“Capitalism has destroyed our belief in any effective power but that of self-interest backed by force...”
- George Bernard Shaw
iTs caLleD RocK n roll
1954 Bill Haley and His Comets Came
to rock us around the clock. The kids
went crazy and jumped out of their
seats And that Bo Diddley boogie
Got ‘em bopping to the beat. With the
moondog wailin’ over the airwaves
A revolution was sounded That
could never be grounded. “Roll Over
Beethoven” was the anthem of the kids
on the street!
The call of young rebels rang out
across the globe From London to
Berlin, Sydney to Tokyo, Stockholm,
Beirut, Rio de Janeiro. The kids of
the world flew the flag of rock and
roll. One generation united, passions
In 1950s America, all of the narrow minds and the misanthropic
cultural, political and economic tyrants holding segregation in
place couldn’t stop the advance of a youth culture that insisted
the kids should be united. The cultural power of rock n roll, a
music that combined the traditions of country and blues and
gospel, took the world by force. Skeptics claimed it could never
last and conservatives said that it was a deviation from the
natural order, but rock n roll endured, a truly powerful art form
associated from its inception with rebellion and multicultural
cross-pollination. It spread rapidly across the globe, mingling
with indigenous sounds wherever it went, proving its cultural
power to adapt while still maintaining its exuberance and the
essence of youth rebellion.
Every time rock n roll became stagnant, overly institutionalized
and sanitized, a new generation would come along and kick it
a new asshole, reclaiming it for themselves and taking the piss
ignited, They couldn’t get no… hey,
hey, hey! “Kick out the Jams” Was the
message from the kids on the street!
It’s called Rock n Roll
We want the truth, we want the real
Cause we’ve got soul and we’ve got
feel. We’re the kids who won’t be told,
who won’t be controlled, Undermined,
bought out, packaged and sold...
We’re still fucking in the back seats,
jumpin’ to the up-beats, Bringin’ the
riots down to the city streets, And our
insurgency is something They can’t
control - It’s called Rock n Roll
Words and Music by Marek Vermin
out of the accountants and lawyers who knew nothing about
music, but controlled the world’s recording industries. In the
1960s rock re-emerged, along with new rock-influenced forms
of funk and jazz, as a driving force behind the various protest
and revolutionary movements throughout the world, shaking
the world order from its very roots and spawning hundreds of
sub-genres, including heavy metal, hip-hop and punk rock; and
eventually all of their sub-genres too.
Independently created and produced music spread throughout
the world, carrying the spirit of rock n roll to the masses of
youth who, to this day, engage in multifarious forms of artful
rebellion and continue to use rock music to inspire themselves
to action!
¡viva rock n roll!
oso blanco
There ain’t a single story That comes
from out of nowhere. Every tale’s got
its roots in a moment of truth Deep in
the core of the legends we bear. Well,
Robin Hood must have stood for more
Than just rob from the rich and give
to the poor: An idea, a hope, the
will to fight, And the courage to give
everything for something right. Let the
people sing…
It’s a long way to Nottingham Shire
Or Chiapas, Mexico, But you can’t tell
me that Robin Hood ain’t real Since the
feds caught up with Oso Blanco!
The cynics might bury their hope And
treat their fear with cocaine. But sure
as terror still chills in New Mexico’s
heat, You know it gives the streets
their name. Well he ain’t no Hollywood
God now, Up on the silver screen,
smooth and debonair. The real deal
looks, talks and fights like the streets
A hard-living red man with black, black
hair. So let the people sing…
It’s a long way to Nottingham Shire
Or Chiapas, Mexico, But you can’t tell
me that Robin Hood ain’t real, Since
the feds caught up with Oso Blanco!
It’s a long way to Nottingham Shire
Or Chiapas, Mexico, But you can’t tell
me that Robin Hood ain’t real, Since
the feds caught up with Oso Blanco!
Words and Music by Marek Vermin

“I am still able to hold my head up and feel the gratification for my work in a world where money, power, and
destructive industry are regarded far above humanity, indigenous, and impoverished peoples and cultures. I
cannot help that I got into my work.” - Oso Blanco

Byron Shane Chubbuck, also known as Oso Blanco, is a wolf clan Cherokee/Choctaw raised in New Mexico.
Throughout 1998 and 1999 he robbed a number of banks and used the proceeds to send assistance to the
Zapatista Rebels in Chiapas, Mexico. After the FBI learned that he was giving the money away to aid the poor
and the dispossessed they dubbed him “Robin the Hood”. Following his arrest Oso Blanco was sentenced to
80 years in a federal prison and he is currently serving that sentence in the US.
HosTage
Kneeling on the ground, Blindfolded,
gagged and bound. Can’t hear a
fucking sound, But I feel them all
around. They’re watching me
…they’re haunting me. I feel my mind is
gonna split And they don’t give a shit
Watching me… What do they want
from me? The nights of terror never
cease. I pray and pray for my release
Flesh unfit for meat markets, Hammered
well beyond senseless. For what?
For what, indeed? Battered souls and
bullet holes, The Dow is up now as
they close. Whoah, and that’s the
status quo! Hostage!
Just look at what we’ve done today
We’ve been too long turning away…

Hostage! I’m a hostage! Hostage! I’m a hostage! Hostage! I’m a

hostage! Hostage! You’re a hostage!
Panoptic from inside. There is no place Hostage! Everyone a hostage!
to hide. Don’t need a jail or cell Inside Hostage! No more: hostage!
my private hell: I’m watching me
…I’m haunting me. I can’t move to get
away, I’m always lying there in wait
Watching me… Why are they taunting
me? Eyes burn through behind my
skull. The truth seems inconceivable

Hostage! I’m a hostage!

Hostage! I’m a hostage! Words and Music by Marek Vermin

‘Discipline’ may be identified neither with an institution nor with an apparatus; it is a type of power, a modality
for its exercise, comprising a whole set of instruments, techniques, procedures, levels of application, targets;
it is a ‘physics’ or an ‘anatomy’ of power, a technology.

- Michel Foucault (Discipline and Punish: The Birth of the Prison)

Power does not simply reside in an act of force from one
body on another. Power is also regulated by acts of will
upon other wills. When humans engage in relationships
of power with each other it isn’t the same as smashing
a rock with a hammer. That’s an act of force, which is a
type of power, but it’s not intersubjective power. Power
relations between two subjects happen in the space
where their wills meet and where societal discourses
regulate assumptions. Thus, social power is dispersed
in the form of discourse and knowledge. But that isn’t
to say that violence isn’t a major component of the
relations of power. Certainly the expectation of violence
produces some of the most profound understandings
we have. However, even though violence is a form of
communication that establishes a relationship of wills,
the power of violence should be distinguished from the
power relation that is reinforced through its use. The
ultimate recourse of violence is in death, but through
death the relation of power is dissolved. There is nothing
left to speak of. The king wields no social power if he
has no subjects.

So, in order to counter the patterns of power that we

wish to disengage, we need to start to unravel their
discourses and establish new positions from which to
speak. We need to recognize the places in which our
acquiescence not only reinforces unwanted power,
but creates it and redistributes it. We need to create
counter-power discourses to those that allow for the
dispensing of torturous socio-economic regimes. If
“shock and awe”, Guantanamo and Abu Ghraib are not
to represent the secret desires of our societies, we need
to unmake the framework that allowed these atrocities
to speak for us. It is too simple to dismiss them as a
product of intelligence agencies in the US, because
it comes from elsewhere more pervasive than just the
annals of the CIA’s Kubark manual. These discourses are
embedded deep in our notions of legitimate authority,
terror, fear, and discipline.
calgAry Libre
In my home town, there’s governmental
dynasties And cinematic sunsets
over the refineries. Dirty boots on the
avenue looking for work today, Hoping
to find a reason to stay… hey, hey!
In my home town, there’s gentrifying
BRZs, Imagining and marketing special
kinds of enemies. Atomic citizens
looking for a world outside their door
And some forgot what they’re living
for…
It’s more than oil dollars and concrete
walls. It’s more than farmers’ markets
and community halls. It’s more than just
social inequity. These streets and fields
we’ve made our homes. They’re marked
with blood and broken bones. We live
between sewage and dreams, Hope
and lies and love and economy - This
is Calgary
Calgary Libre! is the name of a local soccer team
that Mark Vermin co-founded and has played on
for a number of years. The team is what could
be called a microcosmos of Calgary’s diverse
communities.
Not only is Soccer a reflection of the animalistic
pleasure and pain of life, but it is also an escape.
When the struggles we engage in seem to become
hopeless, we need these havens of freedom to
play and forge meaningful friendships. And if
we step back for a moment, we realize also all
the good we’ve done along the way and all the
potential that we have. The land beneath your feet
is the heart of the game and it is on this soil that
we attempt to move forward, to forge history and
make the world a better place.
Historically Calgary has been a tragically
conservative city, often associated with a
backwards mentality. Indeed, Alberta’s oil wealth
has made the cities of this province very wealthy,
and with that wealth has come a decadent culture
of waste and isolation. It has also drawn people to
this part of the country at an alarming rate, causing
an unprecedented population boom. However, the
influx of cultures has opened Calgary up and
has brought ideas that can challenge the long-
held reactionary socio-political world view of this
redneck wonderland.

Calgary libre! This is our home! Calgary is not just a city of faux-cowboys and
Calgary libre! This is our home! oil barons. It is also a locale for free thinkers,
radicals, artists and freaks. This is our home.
Calgary libre! This is our home!
Calgary libre! This is our home! Viva Calgary Libre!

Words by Marek Vermin

Music by Jimmy James and Marek Vermin
life And debT
From exalted to human with the stroke
of a pen Doesn’t seem to mean much
these days. ‘Cause when push comes
to shove, that bomb drops from above
And the children put the city ablaze.
Just ‘cause the monkeys in suits won’t
tally me banana Doesn’t mean them
bellies don’t really ache. A noose
‘round the neck ain’t a cash-able
cheque, But that’s the only deal the
IMF makes. How far that branch gives
before it breaks?
Who can you turn to? Desperate times
force the desperate hand, yeah.
Who can you turn to when the money
man’s got the key? Who can you
turn to? Desperate times ‘cross this
desperate land, yeah. Who can you
turn to?
Jamaica is a case study in the brutality of unfettered
capitalism. While western tourists play in the country’s
paradisiacal beaches, smothered in opulence, the
people of Jamaica struggle to survive in a continuous
downward spiral of poverty. Incapable of competing
with the imports like subsidized powdered milk
flowing in from the US and with companies like
Chiquita and Dole, whose bananas are often grown
under slave-like conditions, Jamaica’s economy has
been eviscerated. The IMF and the World Bank have
White dollars, they come to play in the
sun: Margaritas in the tropical heat.
But that money won’t find you black
peace of mind, Only bullets in the city
streets. ‘Cause when you can’t buy
the seed and the land yields weeds,
You sit around always waiting. Yeah,
waiting for the time when you need
to rise And put an end to all of this
debating; All of this fussing and a
fighting.
Who can you turn to? Desperate times
force the desperate hand, yeah.
Who can you turn to when the IMF
lock the door? Who can you turn to?
Desperate times ‘cross this desperate
land, yeah. Who can you turn to?
Sing loud ‘til the world can’t ignore
anymore.
Words and Music by Marek Vermin
raped almost every economy in the third world with
their structural adjustment programs, ensuring that
the rich and powerful move with unlimited access,
while the poor suffer and starve, immobile. The
freedom of capital has replaced the dream of freedom
for the people.
This song was inspired by Stephanie Black’s film
“Life and Debt”. For more information go to
http://www.lifeanddebt.org
The BaghdAd shuffle
Long-tailed Scorpion baking in the
heat. Desert Sands shifting to the beat
of the feet, yeah. From the Midwest
to the Middle East, barrels on their
plates, ready for the feast. Black blood
of the Earth boils ‘neath the sands, so
they send their young to die and kill in
far-off lands.
Let’s burn the Oceans, let’s burn the
Seas. Let’s burn our future in our
SUVs. Kill and maim in convenience’s
name until every drop is found. Do the
Baghdad Shuffle ‘til we hit the ground.
G-7 cannibals around the fire. ...iko,
iko, with a 3rd world picnic for the
funeral pyre, yeah. There’s a thorn in
their side and glint in their eye. Cut the
moustache off and the beast will die.
The UN’s not invited when they twist
and hop, the oil down the desert way
gotta shake it to the top.
Drown us in deception, drown us in
disease. Keep us fearing phantom
killers and WMDs. Keep us filling our
tanks with blood until every gallon’s
burned. Do the Baghdad Shuffle ‘til the
world has turned.
Empires crumble and empires fall. What
does an empire do with it’s back to
the wall? Rome or Texas, it’s the same
old lies, the figurehead postures while
Democracy dies, the Moneymen rape,
dollars in their eyes, until the corpses
of the innocent are drawing flies.
Let’s burn the Oceans, let’s burn the
Seas.
Words and Music by Casey Lewis

“The United States wants to implement a grand plan to control the sources of Iraqi oil... They want to preoccupy
the people with the security issue to implement this plan...”
- Shaykh Hasan al-Zarqani, the Al-Sadr Movement in Iraq

“Of course it’s about oil, we can’t really deny that.”

- General John Philip Abizaid (U.S. Central Command)
securiTy
She’s looking down from a ladder she’s
been climbing for years, Through youth
and love and heartbreak, through
blood and sweat and tears. She’s got
a great big house and she’s popular in
bars, Got a kid in med school and she
drives expensive cars.
She’s been falling up that ladder since
God knows fucking when And the
ulcer in her stomach is acting up again
She could tell you the price of
everything she owns And what she
tips the college boys who come when
she’s alone
She counted out her pennies and
tossed them in a box. Dropped the box
in the ocean, drank her face off at the
docks. Kicked around the harbour all
night long. Looking out on how to get
back to the place where she belongs
She’s got her eyes on the stars and
she’s screaming on her knees. Asking
someone something, asking anyone
please. She’s got a bottle in her left
hand and a pistol in her right, But
whomever it is she’s asking can’t help
Can’t help her tonight

And she wonders and I wonder What Words by Spencer Jo

went wrong? Integrity turned tragedy Music by Marek Vermin
Screaming for security.

We are born into a world where progressive alienation is a false marker of success. We struggle to the point
of almost killing ourselves so that we can be free of one of the very things that makes us human - our need
for each other. Fetishes are used as stand-ins for human interactions and in a consumerist society we drive
ourselves to madness collecting objects to replace every lost interaction, every missing love. When we achieve
our every desire, we keep reaching out, insatiably looking for more. We obsess over that last missing thing
and unless we realize that what we were looking for is something that doesn’t exist, we can never be satisfied.
There will always be that yearning for the impossible - security.
a garden for Every fisT
Raise your fist in the air, Stick your
trowel in the ground. Get up, get down,
shake it all around. Get your get on
to the rock n roll sound. Shooting
up like grass through the sidewalk,
Eco-systems in the city streets. We’re
working our way through the gaps
in the concrete, Busting open right
beneath our feet.
Oh! Can you see it? The living city right
before your eyes. Oh! Can you hear it?
Letting us know she’s only in a new
guise. There’s no revolution Until we
touch the ground, reaching down to
plant the seeds. We’re tilling the soil...
A garden for every fist!
Raise your fist in the air, Stick your
trowel in the ground. Get up, get
down, start it right now. Gotta get a
move-on on the under ground. We’ve
got a thousand rooftops here Situated
for a little salvation And a million
forgotten spaces Calling out for some
imagination.
“Humanity has passed through a long history of one-sidedness and of a social condition that has always
contained the potential of destruction, despite its creative achievements in technology. The great project of our
time must be to open the other eye: to see all-sidedly and wholly, to heal and transcend the cleavage between
humanity and nature that came with early wisdom.”
Oh! Can you feel it? The naked city
beneath the soles of your feet.
Oh! Can you believe it? A metro-
paradise awaits at the end of the
street. There’s no revolution Until we
touch the ground, reaching down to
plant the seeds. We’re tilling the soil...
A garden for every fist!
Above the underground, That’s where
you see us now. And this is our
sound… I’m singin’ all my people -
c’mon an’ get down!
Oh! Can you see it? It rises up amidst
the foliage. Oh! Can you believe it?
We’re working our way into a new age
There’s no revolution Until we touch
the ground, reaching down to plant the
seeds. There’s no revolution Without
soiled hands. We’re tilling the soil... A
garden for every fist!
Words and Music by Marek Vermin
- Murray Bookchin (The Ecology of Freedom)
Divide et imperia is a Roman term for the theory of
divide and rule. The basic tenet is that in order for an
Empire to extend control effectively into a territory
with a historically strong cultural identity, it is
necessary to encourage potential internal divisions.
The effectiveness of this strategy lies at the core of
a very simple principle: if the people would resist us
because we are the imperialists they detest, we must
foster sectarianism so that they fight each other. This
is precisely what has happened in Iraq today. The
resistance movement against American imperialism
in Iraq has been effectively countered by the
splintering of the country into hundreds of primary
allegiances and the evisceration of a long-held Iraqi
national identity. It has allowed the US to force free-
market fundamentalism down the throats of Iraqis
and has resulted in one of the biggest economic
rip-offs of this century, with no end in sight for an
American withdrawal.

This song was initially written as a metaphor for

the role of Ahmed Chalabi, the notorious wanna-be
president of Iraq, who was so despised by Iraqis
that the US had to find another patsy to head the
interim Iraqi Governing Council: the CIA asset Iyad
Allawi. However, the US has repeatedly utilized
numerous Iraqi figureheads, continuously offering
support to a range of competing interests, embroiling
many in divisive patterns of abuse. Further, in 2004
when John Negroponte, the king of the death
squads in Honduras, Nicaragua, and El Salvador,
was appointed ambassador to Iraq, the use of death
squads by American-backed Iraqi leaders, including
government ministries, became prolific. As a result,
these rulers are greatly loathed by many Iraqis and
can’t even leave the Green Zone for fear of their
lives. This song is really about all of these stooges
who think that the Empire will protect them forever.
divide eT iMPeria
Master! Save me! Remember me, your
little Judas in training… Caesar! Don’t
betray me! I need your strength, my
people all hate me! I had your word, we
had a deal! My allegiance and title for
your steel! I would be lord, I would be
king, But the lion is turning and bears
his teeth at me!
I should have known and understood me! I need your strength, my people
Caesar’s word is never good. A
carnivore’s a carnivore and we know
what he came here for. Avarice and
lust! Eyes grow wide! Obscured
shadows at your side! Wounded,
beaten, Caesar’s land: Divide et
imperia!
I seized… opportunity. Caesar’s icy
hand reached out to greet me. His
words… so sweet. My enemies would
grovel at my feet, But now you do
not heed me, you do not fear me And
Caesar’s deaf ears no longer hear me
Another chief upon my throne, I beg
for mercy in my own home!
I should have known and understood
Caesar’s word is never good. A
carnivore’s a carnivore and we know
what he came here for. Avarice and
lust! Eyes grow wide! Obscured
shadows at your side! Wounded,
beaten, Caesar’s land: Divide et
imperia!
Master! Save me! Remember me your
little Judas in training… Master! Save
hate me!
I should have known and understood
Caesar’s word is never good. A
carnivore’s a carnivore and we know
what he came here for. Avarice and
lust! Eyes grow wide! Obscured
shadows at your side! Wounded,
beaten, Caesar’s land: Divide et
imperia! Violence and strength like I’ve
never seen, Legions of faithful and war
machines Raining fire from Heaven,
cities of dead, Demons eating crude
like it was bread!
Words and Music by Marek Vermin
haciendA luisiTa
When you assumed your jurisdiction
The whole world came knocking on
our heads. We’ve seen this before, on
the bridge at Mendiola: To the lords
up on high, poor’s the same as dead.
Looking out from blood-bathed eyes
At his body swinging from the gate, I
thought where’s our law, our soldiers,
our justice? I’m only left with my
conscience and my hate And the vile
choice to die hungry or die fighting!
Hacienda Luisita, all I’ve ever known
Hacienda Luisita, this hell that I call
home. Though clutched like gold by
Solomon, I know, I know this land is
ours in common and we shall be free
You tore our roots from the soil And
we had nowhere left to go. We only
wanted what you promised Well over
40 years ago. We didn’t need another
reason To stand up and spit in your
face. The line was drawn in blood by
you And we were imprisoned for life in
your imperial grace With the vile choice
to die hungry or die fighting!
Hacienda Luisita, all I’ve ever known
Hacienda Luisita, this hell that I
call home. But like the wind in the
sugarcane, I know, I know we are one
with this land and we shall be free
Hacienda Luisita, all I’ve ever known
Hacienda Luisita, this hell that I call
home! Hacienda Luisita, though pushed
beyond your view! Hacienda Luisita, I
will return to you!
Words and Music by Marek Vermin

What happens when the land-workers decide that they should hold the land-owners and government to their
obligations? The assumption of jurisdiction happens and the army marches in to make sure that nothing really
changes in the system. Well, something did change. People who had lost their hope realized that they really
did matter. The struggle continues...

“They can tear our bodies apart with bullets, but they will never be able to massacre the resolve of a people
united.”
- ULWU President Rene Galang
Currently the various governments of the world are considering
enacting legislation to enforce digital copyright more stringently.
Just like in the 80’s when major labels made us weep for the
artists who were “losing money” because of home taping,
now the industry is crying because digital sharing is causing
untold damage to the poor, starving artists who can’t be fairly
remunerated for their hard work.
Of course, fair remuneration of artists is constantly heralded as
a rationale for increasing copyright protections when it is very
obvious to any artists involved in the industry that remuneration
within the industry is almost non-existent. Yet artists are being
duped into thinking that they’ve been hurt by piracy despite the
fact that independent artists have never made much money from
distribution of sales, partly because channels have largely been
closed to us. Most sales, if you control your own recordings,
come directly off the stage. You play shows and that’s where
the music is. However, piracy has changed the dynamic of
distribution. It has levelled the playing field to a certain extent,
because people can freely share culture with each other and
get a wider sampling of music. Now it is the tastes of fans that
fuels distribution of music in addition to the traditional album-
to-record-store route that is controlled by a select few in
the industry (and the hierarchy within that structure is pretty
insane too). Piracy is a democratizing effect within the music
industry, because it allows the music to become distributed by
fans based on its connection to them. Their musical tastes are
no longer dependent upon who has the best access to their
regional “market”, but are now predicated upon what they can
scour on the internet and what their friends want to share with
them. As a musician, the whole point is to be able to reach out
to someone and have them feel your music passionately. When
that connection is made, then you have produced something
meaningful. That carries over and people go see the artist live
if they can. If they really care enough, they’ll even pay for an
album they’ve already pirated. This relationship serves to better
the state of independent music and artists benefit wholly from
being heard.
The movement for increasing copyright protections is obviously
spearheaded by and in the interests of the major publishers and
distributors, not the artists that they have no problem ripping
off in contracts. Yet the majors cite the “poor artists” whenever
this issue comes up. Unless artists are 100% in control of
distribution and production of their works, which almost never
happens when an artist is considered potentially profitable,
then increased digital protections won’t help artists one bit.
Further, increased controls will likely benefit major labels to
the detriment of artists, who usually don’t have enough money
before they sign a contract to pay a lawyer to protect their
interests against the record company’s team of accountants,
lawyers and other such parasitic agents.
In fact, we believe that increases in digital protections will
only serve to hurt smaller artists altogether, unless we find a
new measure for copyrighting material that protects us from
the industry while still allowing fans to access and distribute
it easily. One method is to begin a movement to boycott major
labels by artists and fans. Fuck them. Let them die. Who cares
if 100 bureaucrats don’t get paid for every album released? The
industry is a bloated, top-heavy behemoth that needs to take
a serious nose-dive into a pile of its own shit. Another option
is for artists to begin to have their music digitally unprotected.
Artists can opt to have their music released in DRM-free
manners, thus enabling sharing by fans. Finally, support piracy
every chance you get. Make sure that anti-artist/anti-fan//pro-
corporate legislation is opposed and even if it goes through,
continue to violate it. This is a form of civil disobedience in the
cultural arena. We believe that culture shouldn’t be restrained
by profit margins. Musical diversity shouldn’t just be for people
who can afford to have purchased thousands of records for
their collection.
Copyright should serve to protect artists from the industry, not
the industry from fans! Long live music piracy!
The drafting of pro-corporate digital copyright legislation is part
of a larger initiative, driven by neo-liberal capitalist ideologues
to make the right to unfettered profits the highest universal
principle of humanity. All around us we see initiatives to free
the movement of capital while restricting the movement of labour
and ‘deregulating’ what communal wealth remains in order to
sell it at rock-bottom prices to private market interests. However,
all around the world people are resisting this assault on public
interest in a multitude of ways. From Iraq to the Phillipines,
Bolivia to the US, there are millions of people who are fighting
and creating spaces for alternative discourses to be heard. This
recording is dedicated to all of the people who struggle against
social injustices to make a world for all.
The Martyr Index would like to thank the following for their
invaluable assistance to us in the two years that this record
was in the making: Lindsay, H-Bowg, Garrett, Kyle, the triangle,
the Kosts, the Bizeks, the department, LCCL, the rest of the
band, the lesbo, the drama queen, all of our supporters, and
all of the amazing bands, promoters, and technicians we’ve
worked with.