Danbert Nobacon

     Slightly after Chimp Eats Banana, Dan began working on his acoustic solo career. He was a dangerously bold and knowledgeable individual who has become very notorious over the past years from committing atrocities which he has committed on and off stage. Born as Nigel Hunter in England on January 16th, 1962, but known to all by his nickname Danbert Nobacon, he grew up with his mom, dad and two brothers until he left home sometime during his early twenties. During his early life, Danbert went to all-boy schools, so he ended up not really 'knowing' too much about women until he reached his twenties, but he eventually lost his virginity at the age of twenty three. He was considered for having one of the most important political minds of the eighties and proved time and time again by uncovering the truth behind our leaders that he actually had something to say.

     During February of 1985, Danbert recorded his 'The Unfairy Tale' record and released it on the Sky and Trees label. During his early gigs, he was known for exposing himself to his audiences, and he would often describe himself as a transvestite. During several gigs, he would often be seen wearing a nun's habit.

     Not too long ago during the 1998 BRIT awards, he gained notoriety for dumping ice water on U.K. deputy prime minister John Prescott while shouting 'This is for the Liverpool Dockers!' while at the same time, his band that was playing on stage shouted out 'New labor sold out the dockers, just like they'll sell out the rest of us!'(they changed one line in the song they were playing to say that instead).

     In 1987, Danbert released 'Bigger than Jesus' on Mind Matter Records, followed by 'Why are we still in Ireland' in 1989 on Rugger Bugger Discs. 'Bigger than Jesus' was sold inside brown bags in stores because he decided to use a photograph of his penis for the cover. Next, a notable gig was played in Scunthrope during 1989 which features a personal song called 'A Sort of Love Song' and an amazing version of 'A Million Wat Tylers'. Danbert eventually became the comedian 'Frank Nobacon' for a short while, and currently still continues to release music such as 'The Library Book of the World' on Bloodshot Records in 2007, and 'Woebegone' on Verbal Burlesque in 2010. Nobacon has been referred to as 'the punk rock king' in fanzines, and will best be remembered for being the lead vocalist of Chumbawamba.
   

"Why are we Still in Ireland?


Our settlers calling

our kingdom great.
Our banners raised on high.
Baptized with the tide of history
that won’t lie down and die.
Words from our own good book 

to help us get by.

The sacrifice of our daily bread
The hallowed be our domain.
For ever and ever 

the powers use their glory
to chain our minds again.

Our lads growing into 

our men.

The unicorn stands triumphant
But if we look a little closer 

it’s chained like a slave.
The lion 

was crowned king of this land that 

it’s only ever seen from behind 

bars in a cage.
This history of the winning side 

written on every page.

It’s not as simple as being mislead, 

as us not wanting to see,
that most of us are born losers 

in the great society.
Fed on a diet 

of how grand things used to be.

An empire, 

two world wars, 

and Wimbly ’66.
But a Gordon Banks save 

couldn’t save our ship
We were sinking like a brick
till we were washed ashore in the South Atlantic.

The unicorn stands triumphant
But if we look a little closer 

it’s chained like a slave.
The lion 

was crowned king of this land that 

it’s only ever seen from behind 

bars in a cage.
This history of the winning side 

written on every page.

And how can we as a people 

be so blind
to taking so much 

but to close our minds.
To be so afraid of stepping over the line.
To bury our heads in 

the sands of time.
To champion those 

who take our everything,
and pretend 

that none of this is happening.
To turn away and stop wondering 

how things could be any different.

Living in the hope 

of a promise of a land 

fit for heroes’ needs.
With the reason that if 

we got sod all
then at least we’re white 

and free.
Hiding behind 

hand-me-down bigotry.
A nation of jurors 

judging others 

by the color of a book.
That was written for us 

on our behalf.
‘Cause we can’t be bothered to look
beyond the headlines written 

verbatim by government crooks.

And tell me when is a lie not a lie?
When it’s told by someone 

who owns the truth.
And when is a joke 

not a joke?
When the punchline is 

the Union Jackboot.
When is a war 

not a war?
When those who started it 

know it can’t be won,
and when is a country 

not a country?
When it’s partitioned 

and ruled by British guns.

England, 

oh England, 

I’ll never sing your praise
For all the blood you shed 

in long-gone days.
You still can’t put your mind 

to changing your ways.

And while Britain’s first 

and virtually its last
remaining colony 

is fighting 

with its very life
to bring this monster 

to its knees.
We can’t see the wood 

through the trees 

who the monster is.

And how can we as a people 

be so blind
to taking so much 

but to close our minds.
To be so afraid of stepping over the line.
To bury our heads in 

the sands of time.
To champion those 

who take our everything,
and pretend 

that none of this is happening.
To turn away and stop wondering 

how things could be any different.

The unicorn stands triumphant
But if we look a little closer 

it’s chained like a slave.
The lion 

was crowned king of this land that 

it’s only ever seen from behind 

bars in a cage.
This history of the winning side 

written on every page.

Do we stand against the tide 

or still pretend we’re the master race?
Do we stand against the tide 

or still pretend we’re the master race?

"The Birningham Six"

Birmingham,

1974, 

there occurred a 

bloody murder.
Twenty-one people killed by bombs, 

Britain reeled in horror.
Within three hours 

the British State 

found the first available scapegoats–
Five Irish men 

bound for Belfast, 

about to board the boat.

And this is their story, 

very sad, but true.
Of how six men were falsely imprisoned 

for something they didn’t do.
And if any should say, “British justice 

is the very best in the world”
tell them, 

“Well of course it is, 

for the vested interests it serves”

The men were taken to Morkham 

to be tested for explosives.
Tests which have since proved ambiguous 

but were at the time held as conclusive.
One scientists’ word was sufficient 

to condemn the Irish men.
Like vultures 

the police moved in 

to begin interrogations.

In the circumstances 

how well do you think the men’s rights 

were observed?
The cops thought they had the bombers; 

do you think they kept 

their judgement reserved?
Does ‘innocent till proven guilty’ 

have any meaning at all?
When you’re alone in a police house surrounded by cops 

being kicked around like a ball.

In a dark windowless room 

half a dozen detectives were waiting.
Billy Power was thrown in, 

the serious questions about to begin.
He was kicked 

and hit 

and punched from all sides, 

spread-eagled against the wall.
They kicked him 

and hit him again, 

a voice from the dark said, 

“Stretch his balls”.

Soon after, poor Billy surrendered, 

screamed, 

“I’ll tell you anything you want me to say”
Sat in his own excretia, 

he could hardly speak he remained in a daze,
whilst cops compiled his statement 

of how he planted the bombs.
They threatened him 

with the treatment again 

so Billy signed a confession.

Thursday night 

became Friday night, 

the five men were took back to Birmingham.
The threats and the violence continued–

a taste of what was to come.
Deprived of food and sleep, 

all part of procedure to break the men.
Johnny Walker 

blacked out twice; 

they untied his hands while he signed his confession.

And Richard McIlkenny 

was threatened 

with a gun
The cop said it was OK to shoot him, 

that the home officer’d given permission
The cop asked him 

if he was going to sign, 

put the gun against his head.
Playing Russian roulette with a blank; 

when he banged 

McIlkenny thought he was dead.
Hugh Callaghan, 

a sixth man, 

was picked up in Berm and tortured
He, too, hadn’t done it 

but they made him sign a confession 

to mass murder.
Six men kept in isolation 

no contact with each other
And it weren’t until 

Monday morning 

that they each got a duty solicitor
Still separate each unbuttoned his shirt to show how he’d been beaten up
The solicitors, 

filling in legal aid forms, 

said there wasn’t time 

and refused to look
The only obvious injury, 

Johnny Walker’s black eye in court that day
When he tried to unbotton his shirt 

all the majistrates said, 

“Let’s take him away”

Leland workers staged a walkout, 

their banners read 

“Hang the IRA”
The labor government 

empowered at the time 

rushed through the PTA
In their war on the Irish people 

the British wanted vengeance.
Despite glaring omissions in the so-called confessions 

the six men hadn’t a chance.

The judge dismissed their claims, 

said it would’ve meant there’d been a conspiracy.
Between fifteen officers from two different forces, 

as if it was an impossibility.
The police in fact became heroes, 

got their promotion and victory medals.
The six men got life imprisonment 

and fifteen years on they’re still in jail.

The men protested their innocence 

but it fell mainly on deaf ears.
They wanted to bring 

the policemen to trial, 

the appeal took 

seven years.
Lord Denning dismissed their case out of hand, saying “These actions cannot go on”

What he really meant 

was the State machine 

could never admit it’s done wrong.

Another six years, 

another appeal, 

another set of judiciary.
To uphold the original convictions 

as safe and satisfactory.
For if it ever gets out that the State judges wrong, 

well 

what would people say?
We’d say, 

“We know who are real enemies are now”, 

and we’d form our own IRA

Oh, let me tell a story, 

very sad, but true
of how six men were falsely imprisoned 

for something they didn’t do.
And if any should say, “British justice 

is the very best in the world”.
Tell them, 

“Well of course it is, 

for the vested interests it serves”.

For as long as we remain ignorant 

they’ll fight their war against Ireland.
For as long as we remain silent 

they’ll imprison any they want.
For as long as we keep our eyes shut 

they’ll continue 

to contain us.
For as long as we remain passive 

they’ll trample us into the dust.

Hugh Callaghan, 

Patrick Hill, 

Richard McIlkenny, 

Johnny Walker, 

Gerry Hunter, 

and Billy Power

Still fighting 

for their freedom 

fifteen long years on.
Their spirits 

shall remain 

when our State is dead.
When our State is dead.
When our State is dead 

and gone.

Soon to come downloads:

The Unfairy Tale 1985 Sky & Trees

Bigger Than Jesus 1987 Mind Matter Records
Why are we Still in Ireland? 1989 Rugger Bugger discs

Live in Scunthrope 1989

(There are various demo's and newer material out there, but I'll stop here)