There was something uniquely English about The Mob which to this day is difficult to define. A loose, understated eccentricity. A strangeness, fuelled by their association with free festivals and LSD. I can remember the Porky Prime Cut messages scratched on the inner groove of their records: ‘Acid Punks’, ‘Take a trip down’ etc. Unlike most of the Crass-type bands, The Mob never offered any solutions or calls for action.
trACks: ANOTHER DAY, ANOTHER DEATH / CRY OF A MORNING / DANCE ON (YOU FOOL) / PRISON / SLAYED / OUR LIFE OUR WORLD / GATES OF HELL / I WISH / NEVER UNDERSTOOD / ROGER / WITHC HUNT / CRYING AGAIN / YOUTH / WITCH HUNT / SHUFFLING SOULS / STAY / I HEAR YOU LAUGHING.