Arguing with borders

A post-hardcore, glitch-punk broadside aimed at the UK’s border obsession. Inspired by Enter Shikari’s “Arguing with Thermometers,” this version swaps Arctic oil for migrant lives — as a nation obsessed with keeping people out slowly collapses from within. Furious, satirical, and urgent.

[Intro]
[Vocal style: Distorted spoken word, glitch delay FX]
[Instrument: Ambient synth pads, radio fuzz, no drums at first]
This is an expedition
To the White Cliffs of Dover

[Instrument: Drums enter – 4 bars of low tom hits, tribal feel, slow reverb-heavy rhythm]
This is a sickening mission, yeah
To patrol and take over

[Instrument: Distorted guitar swells, low synth rumble, creeping hi-hats begin]
That’s the sound of another door slamming shut
In the face of mercy, in the face of mercy
They’ll plant their flags in the soil beds
Churchill is rolling in his grave

[Verse 1]
[Vocal style: Urgent spoken-shout flow with pitched shiver on final words]
[Instrument: Tight drums, fuzzed bass, building distortion guitar]
Yeah, yeah, yeah
We’re all addicted to the most abused and destructive lie of all time
And I ain’t talking about drugs
That racket is trivial when compared
Just like any addict clings to their next illusion
We criminalise the desperate to preserve our delusion

[Pre-Chorus]
[Vocal style: Calm, almost whispered tension — then rising anger]
[Instrument: Synth arpeggios, tom rolls, high-passed static]
You know there’s fear in the tide
You know there’s fear in their eyes
You know there’s blood on our hands
Yeah, we’re all addicted
Yeah, we’re all complicit

[Chorus]
[Vocal style: Gang vocals, shouted with occasional scream-layer]
[Instrument: Full band kick-in, post-hardcore guitar riff, distorted synth bass]
That’s a maniac standpoint
A psychotic outlook
That’s a maniac standpoint
A psychotic outlook
That’s the sound of another door slamming shut
In the face of mercy, in the face of mercy
They’ll plant their flags in the soil beds
Churchill is rolling in his grave

[Bridge]
[Vocal style: Half-spoken, sardonic with cynical tone]
[Instrument: Clean guitar echo, marching snare, underlying low synth pulse]
So let me get this straight:
As we watch the birth rate fall
Instead of welcoming those who could help us stand tall
We invest in drones and fences
To stop the very hands
That could mend the cracks in our defences?

[Callout]
[Vocal style: Bitter delivery with a sneer, trailing to a shout]
[Mood: Condescending > boiling over]
What happens when they stop coming?
You haven’t thought this through, have you, boys?

[Breakdown]
[Vocal style: Screamed repeated line, layered with gang vocals on last]
[Instrument: Downtuned breakdown riff, glitchy synth stab, warped vocal FX]
We’ll tear it down
We’ll tear it down
We’ll tear it down
Stand your ground

[Final Chorus]
[Vocal style: Screamed leads, shouted group lines, chant-like repetition]
[Instrument: Maxed out distortion, double-time drums, synth walls]
You know there’s hope in the boats
You know there’s life in their eyes
You know there’s blood on our hands
Yeah, we’re all addicted
Yeah, we’re all dependent

That’s a maniac standpoint
A psychotic outlook
That’s a maniac standpoint

[Outro]
[Vocal style: Distorted whisper / megaphone FX]
[Mood: Cold, resigned, ominous]
[Instrument: Droning synth, fading static, low-end reverb echo]
Yeah, back to the drawing board, boys
Accept nothing short of a complete reversal
Dig deep.