Originally known simply as GBH (inspired by then-bassist Sean McCarthy’s trial for grievous bodily harm), their name was changed to Charged G.B.H in order to differentiate themselves from another band of the same name. Founding members were Colin ‘Col’ Abrahall (vocals), Colin ‘Jock’ Blyth (guitar), Sean McCarthy (bass) and Andrew Williams (drums).
Charged G.B.H embarked on several English and mainland US tours during the early 1980s, including several gigs at the 100 Club. 1982 saw G.B.H’s first LP, City Baby Attacked By Rats. Lyrically, the album dealt with criticism of British and European culture, violence, morbidity (especially in reference to the song “Passenger On The Menu”, which describes in graphic detail the experiences of the passengers on the Uruguayan Air Force Flight 571), atheism, nihilism and general absurdity. Musically, the album was loud and fast, with few songs exceeding three minutes. In 1983 the band changed their name to G.B.H.
Unlike many early punk bands who evolved towards a more post-punk sound, G.B.H have stayed fairly faithful to their original UK82 sound in subsequent releases. However, the band have experimented to some degree with a more metal-inflected sound, notably with their 1992 release Church of the Truly Warped, although they have since returned to a more purist punk sound. The band is still active and touring and maintain a strong following both in England and the rest of Europe, as well as in America and Japan.
Sick Boy
Charged G.B.H Lyrics
Jump to: Overall Meaning ↴ Line by Line Meaning ↴
My nerves are really bad, it's the best time I've ever had.
I'm a sick boy and there's no cure.
I'm a sick boy there should be more.
But I'm happy the way I am, like a sardine in can.
People taking notes, people in white coats.
I see school girls everywhere, short skirts and pig-tailed hair.
But why must I suffer, for being a gym slip lover?
The lyrics to Charged G.B.H's "Sick Boy" captures the feeling of being trapped in mental institutional care. The singer describes being tied to his bed with electrodes strapped to his head. He acknowledges his mental instability, labeling himself a "sick boy," yet he finds solace in his confinement. He finds happiness in the consistency of his situation, enjoying the predictability of being likened to a "sardine in can" and the comfort of the people in the white coats taking notes.
However, the singer is not fully satisfied - while he may enjoy his current circumstance, he knows there must be more for people like him. It is clear that society views individuals with mental illnesses as societal outcasts, as he experiences judgment for having a preference for school girls. He questions why he should suffer for being a gym slip lover, highlighting the stigma and misunderstanding surrounding his condition.
Line by Line Meaning
I'm strapped into my bed, I've got electrodes in my head.
I am confined to my bed, undergoing electroconvulsive therapy.
My nerves are really bad, it's the best time I've ever had.
Despite my nervous system being heavily affected, I'm somewhat enjoying my treatment.
I'm a sick boy and there's no cure.
I am chronically ill and there seems to be no remedy.
I'm a sick boy there should be more.
Society should be more understanding and empathetic towards those who are sick.
But I'm happy the way I am, like a sardine in can.
I am content with my current state, even if it means feeling trapped like a sardine in a can.
People taking notes, people in white coats.
I am surrounded by medical professionals who are observing and studying my condition.
I see school girls everywhere, short skirts and pig-tailed hair.
Despite my situation, I am still able to observe the world around me and notice the presence of young girls.
But why must I suffer, for being a gym slip lover?
I am questioning why I should be subject to suffering just because I am attracted to young girls who wear gym slips.
Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group
Written by: ANDREW PAUL WILLIAMS, COLIN DEREK ABRAHALL, COLIN ROBERT BLYTH, ROSS ANDREW LOMAS
Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind
@johnnyd736
Who's listening in 2024
@poireauer6517
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@MrsGerdara
ME, indeed!
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Meee!
@theblondesiouxsiesioux
Reporting in.
@karlschmidt9941
I'm 53 now and still get that rush listening to punk.
@zelmo73
I'm right behind you at 47 and punk still makes me drive fast on the road. It's what gets me to work on time!
@wayfaringshaman
In my early 20s (only about half an era ago), I was at an underground punk concert, before then I was sure that punk was definitely dead—I still listened to it, but I knew for sure that it was already a thing of the past, from my dad's time, and before then I had never been in a real punk concert. It was so alive and just like the concerts I've seen only on tape: the mosh pit was wild, and all of them were 50, maybe 60-somethings, donning leather boots and jackets, with ashen mo-hawks & tongue piercings; one of them even gave me a dirty molly. Though today those days are far behind me, and I don't anymore really listen to punk, metal, or anything "hardcore," every once in a while I get a feeling that draws me to that memory and invites me to listen to an old favorite or two, just to relive it all again. It was definitely one of the best nights of my life, a memory I'll always treasure, especially in times like these. I'm so glad I got to be a part of it.
Oh, and by the way, the night of that concert was after my college graduation. Imagine that! When I saw all of those old-timers going crazy, still living it up—and definitely after one of them hit me in the face while trying to open a beer bottle—I thought to myself, "wow, I can't wait to be 50 and still be like that!"
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