Deep Scratch vs Udio Round 2


Back with another round of curated beat jams and soundtracky dusty data-dust cuts. Enjoy.


New Collabs With R.U. Sirius

The esteemed punk writer and cultural agitator, R.U. Sirius, has compiled a new album of material spanning 40 years. I was asked if I wanted to contribute and I jumped at the chance, producing a track built from my voice samples, sequenced and edited using #JammPro software.

Take a listen and grow some new ears. For more deets, visit:

--Steve Fly 

Blah Blah Blah - Beatbox Jamm Pro Audio Experiment

Corona Slayer by Squintin Quarantino (Paperback Edition 2021)


Corona Slayer: Squintin Quarantino by Steven James Pratt. via @amazon

Following on from the first book: 2020: Squintin Quarantino and the Corona Slayer E.P. (September 2020) these scrawls are also in the first thought best thought tradition. Writing whatever comes to mind and sticking with it, a reflection of what arises and surprises. Surprise equals information.



John Sinclair And Steve Fly - Mohawk

Twenty poems planted firmly in a single-shot session, and carefully trimmed down to ten exhibits for this album. Beatnik poems, great odes and personal reflections of the Be-Bop jazz persuasion, all flowering together.

Black Country Romance

Trim yower cowin’ bush dowen bushbury on wednesbury chick. R, yam’ lyk a chipshop off the ol’ bloxswitch, lyk lyk, doe Rushall to Willenhall and I, mi’ gobz dry azza’ sandwell, cum daan’ grayt barr wid uz, mine’s a Blanksiz, gum shot dudleys, scribble up wallsall, get the Billston. Yam’ lookin’ Oldbury like a Broomwich, so, ears’ a Tipton by the ledge ov Sedgely from rown’ black ov’ back heath by kingz pig cut, the end of my Smethwick, scratchin’ weighs a Wolverhampton, hit ya’ with a corkwynder lyk Bruce Coseley, licensed to Brierley Ill, robbed quarry bonk, born in a barn in werdsly, doe get lye’ crozz lyk Sourbridge cuz Halesowen seeds, thas’ aldridge safties. 

Cops And Artists: What Do You Stand For?

Cops And Artists: What Do You Stand For?

Dressed up like an outlaw from bottom to tops

Question authority, scrutinize cops drinking tea in my flipflops 

It’s a day job being a bobby, you supposed to stop robbery and

Stand up for justice, not kneel on the neck, let’s discuss this 

I ask all cops and bobbies to search their soul 

To look into their title, their stereotype and role 

I do the same as a musician and artist 

I ask myself, am I lazy, contributing to society 

What are my morals ethics and code of conduct 

Just try to be nice, just don’t fucking murder anybody. 

So cops hear me now, what is it you stand for? 

The protection of people requires more candour 

The origins of the word Police is polite 

What the hell are you doing out there tonight? 

The Polis is the state 

And the policy is the state, but 

Polite is the plight of the people with all due respect

The people YOU are supposed to serve and protect 

Just try and be polite when you break up a fight 

Consider who’s bidding you’re doing 

To be blunt, who’s agenda in office are you serving? 

Who do you stand for, for who do you kneel? 

I don’t want to give all police a hard time 

There’s good cops and bad cops like butchers and Taxi drivers 

But now’s the time to stand up, once again, and shout NO! 

There’s a clear racist agenda in many cop gangs 

Let’s not escalate into pop-shots and bangs 

Stand up and protest with us 

Join the calls for justice for justice 

Look your partners in the eye and talk about this 

No, it’s not as bad as it is in the U.S 

But all cops worldwide should confess 

They distance themselves from this murder mess 

Prove their benevolence and stand up 

To a public scrutiny test. 

Like if a popular rock drummer strangled a security guard

For demanding he show his wrist band or card 

Live on stage live on film, you might understand 

I would write a statement on behalf of all good drummers 

I would distance myself from this monster with a passion 

This killer who happens to share my profession 

Why don’t you, coppa? 

I’d sit down with any of you motherfuckers over a cuppa’ 

We can trade stories, tit for tat 

You tell of your terror and I tell of mine, how’s that? 

We can trade footage of beatings, murder and crime 

You show me your criminals, I’ll show you mine

Of non-violent crime, like growing weed which is fine. 

And what about the culture, ever thought to protect that 

How many raves, festivals, and parties have you shut? 

How many corporate CEOs, Royals, Ministers 

Presidents and Tsars did you protect? 

You weigh it up for me, I’m here twisting my drum sticks 

Ready for your cop marching band of rednecks

Ready for your bullhorn with my mic, tongue flex.

No violence just words and video and sounds 

We do art battle, peaceful yet piercing 

Not violent but inciting thoughts 

Artists don’t need policing like the fans of foot sports 

So celebrate your good cops whomever they may be 

Just don’t show me Dirty Harry, he’s fiction from TV

I ask you again as I’m spread up on the wall 

Cops, what, who and why do you stand for who you stand for? 

--Squintin Quarantino