Easily the most aggressive musical platter from lyrical mastermind Martin Walkyrie in eons, even including the vitrolic attack given his ex on Vintage Whine. As with the best Skyclad works, the words are caustic social commentaries, backed with folk elements, most notably, the fiddle. 'Think Back And Lie Of England', the title a twist on a well-known phrase, is a scathing look at injustices throughout British history. A comparable American song would have to chronicle stealing land from Native peoples, then murdering them, enslaving Africans and interning the Japanese during World War II. Not much chance any of the chart-topping Stateside teeny boppers will try their hand at such prose anytime soon. 'Polkageist' is a cleverly disguised ode to the favorite polka instrument, accordion, where Walkyier gives it the characteristics of a temptress. Iron Maiden-ish riffs crop up in 'The Disenchanted Forest', a song about farmland being converted into business/industry. It ends with tractors and earthmovers revving diesel engines. While Walkyier writes the lion's share of the lyrics, he adapted two songs from poets, Oscar Wilde ('Deja Vu Ain't What It Used To Be') and Alison Davies ('Crux Of The Message'). He again saves his most lethal ammunition for a failed relationship, 'You Lost My Memory', but isn't afraid to have a poke at himself and his Skyclad bandmates, in the closing 'Any Old Irony'. Sadly, the domestic version lacks the rollicking rendition of Ten Pole Tudor's 'Swords Of A Thousand Men'.