Song Meaning
The lyrics paint a picture of a music scene attempting to engage with political issues, specifically anti-apartheid sentiment, but ultimately feeling co-opted by commercialism. It opens with a call for unity among diverse workers to buy records, framing this as a direct action against apartheid. This initial idealism is quickly juxtaposed with the mundane realities of the music industry, like a roadie fetching a beer, suggesting a disconnect between the message and the execution.
The central tension arises from the clash between "easy listening" and "political slogans," and "party propaganda" being packaged with "soul music." The narrator seems to observe a superficial engagement with politics, where "left-wing items" are marketed to "dancing consumers." This creates an ironic situation where the very act of consuming music for political causes becomes a transaction, an "historical compromise" between record labels and political factions, reducing potent messages to mere commodities.
The repeated interjections of "Roadie, a beer," "Roadie, my guitar," and "Roadie, new string" serve as grounding, almost mundane interruptions to the grander political pronouncements. These simple requests highlight the practical, everyday operations of putting on a show, contrasting sharply with the lofty ideals being discussed. The recurring image of a "cigarette" further emphasizes a certain weary, perhaps cynical, atmosphere pervading the scene, a small indulgence amidst the ideological crossfire.
Ultimately, the lyrics suggest that the attempt to merge genuine political action with the music industry's commercial imperatives results in a hollow echo. The insistent repetition of "Business as usual" and "Politics as usual" underscores a sense of resignation, implying that despite the anti-apartheid calls and left-wing messaging, the underlying system of commerce and performance remains unchanged. The final refrain, "Just give'em what they want," speaks to a cynical approach of pandering to the audience rather than challenging them, solidifying the idea that the music's political edge has been dulled by its own success.