Thought that might grab your attention, especially coming from me...

Many bands - both prog and non - have written songs critical of the music industry and/or the music it tends to support.  Some of the ones that come to mind are PF's "Have a Cigar," GG's "Interview," Queen's "Flick of the Wrist" (about their first manager) and especially their ultra-biting "Death on Two Legs."  Among my other favorites are XTC's hysterical "I Bought Myself a Liarbird," and their super-incisive "Funk Pop A Roll," which I share the lyrics for below.  Can anyone come up with others?  Prog is best, but all examples are equally fun!

Funk Pop a Roll (by XTC)

Funk pop a roll beats up my soul
Oozing like napalm from the speakers and grills of your radio
Into the mouths of babes
And across the backs of its willing slaves...

Funk pop a roll consumes you whole
Gulping from your opium so copiously from a disco
Everything you eat is waste
But swallowing is easy when it has no taste...

They can fix you rabbits up...with your musical feed
They can fix you rabbits up...big money selling you stuff that you really do not need...

Funk pop a roll for fish in shoals
Music by the yard for the children they keep like poseable dolls
The young to them are mistakes
Who only want bread but are force-fed cake...

Funk pop a roll the only goal
The music business is a hammer to keep you pegs in your holes
But please don't listen to me -
I've already been poisoned by this industry!...

Golden Earring - Ce Soir

Remember that song called "Kill me"
From Vick Timm's last LP
Too much of a risk
for a golden disc
The price he paid for money

Ce soir, Ce soir
Assassination d'un rock 'n roll star

Sing your song, you can't go wrong
Attempted his business adviser
No need for alarm
you'll come to no harm
He didn't mention the sniper

Ce soir, Ce soir
Assassination d'un rock 'n roll star

The news is read, the meaning spread
One yawn, two yawn, and back to bed
Turn off the light and hold me tight
Come on maman, bend down your head
And just sing on, immortal song
Fini belle vie, bonne nuit

Remember that song called "Kill Me"
A lecture on political chicanery
of people's rape
recorded on tape
Bought shame to the presidency

Tonight, tonight
One more point for human right

Remember that song "Kill Me"
once used by a man from Galilee
He had nothin' to lose
He was king of the Jews
Secured his place in history

Ce soir, Ce soir
assassination d'un provocateur

The news is read, the voice is spread
One yawn, two yawn, and back to bed
Turn off the light and hold me tight
Come on maman, bend down your head
And just sing on, immortal song
Fini belle vie

Vick played the part, with all his heart
He wasn't prepared for the shock
When howling lead
bit into his head
A new martyr for the book of rock

Ce soir, Ce soir
Assassination d'un rock 'n roll star

this is the first one to spring to mind, together indeed with the ones you already mentioned.

Kevin Gilbert - The Shaming of the True - Suit Fugue (The A&R Men)

Hi, John it’s Mel from Meglaphone
I’ve been listening to your tape for the 19th time
Oh that’s another call - can I call you
Back when I was in a band we used to sound like this
And I loved your songs, they reminded me of myself
You sound like Air Supply meets Guar
In a good way; Here’s my other number
Can you wait for just a sec -
That’s another call coming in, I’ll get back to you
Have my girl take your information

Hi, John it’s Guy from Groan-o-phone
Heard some talk about the band and the way you sing
I really think it’s great - can we make a
Deal with me, call me a friend, we’ll be a family
You’re a talented individual
If you sign here on the dotted line… that’s good
And my nephew will be your producer

Yo, John it’s Bill from Biddybum
Word is traveling around that you’ve got some tunes
We will not be outbid -
Radio is in the bag, we own the chart
They will not add your song
Without checking with our promotion staff, now we

 

Hi, John it’s Shep from Shinola
We should really do a lunch
Quite a tape indeed - my secretary flipped
Your a genius

Hi, Jack it’s Al from A&R
You don’t really need the band they are in the way
We only wanted you any way so
Dump the band, you are the face
You better wise up fast
This is not a game - we’re professionals
Did I mention that you won’t be out this year
Cannot be helped - go take a vacation
One more thing that you should know
We’re all counting on you to be
Our new golden boy
Lot’s of lives and jobs in the balance

Virgil it’s Pete your president
Calling to congratulate you on your fine choice
You must be very proud, so are we
I’m sure your music is terrif although I must admit
I don’t listen to much of any thing
Did I mention that I used to have a band?
I have to run, been great talking to you

Hi, Joe about publicity
Thought about the photo op with the cripple
No, we need a sharper hook - like a scandal
Maybe you could rape a nun
Or better still a priest
Some androgyny could be interesting, shall we

Hi, Jim it’s Val from video
Who decided on your hair?
Can we cut it off?
We’d like to see a buzz bin rotation

Peter Hammill, "Two or Three Spectres", from his album "Nadir's Big Chance".

Two or Three Spectres

"Sod the music," said the man in the suit,
"I understand profit and without that, it's no use.
Why don't you go away and write commercial songs;
come back in three years, that shouldn't be too long..."
He's a joker and an acrobat,
a record exec. in a Mayfair flat
with Altec speakers wall to wall,
a Radford and a Revox and through it all he plays
strictly nowhere Muzak.
        
"Hey, listen, baby, this band's got a lot of soul...
if we can beat that out of them I see a disc of gold!
Give them an image, maybe glitter, maybe sex,
maybe outrage, maybe elegance -
how about as nervous wrecks?"
Signs up the product at two percent,
justified by vinyl shortage and the increased rent
on the yacht he has to hire to make his pitch at Midem
and all the press receptions for his business friends
who spill their Taittinger upon the floor
while the band sip English lager just outside the door.
        
Treble, alto, bass clefs on the page,
crotchets, quavers, minims all the rage
but you'll never find a pound note in the score -
it's there when it's strictly merchandise,
through all the propagated lies about what the whole thing's for.
He'll make you a star, he'll make you so famous
that all you desire is to be left nameless,
drained of all you felt you had to offer at the start.
        
Not without blame, either, are the gentlemen of the press:
you can talk about the state of music,
they will write about your dress.
Play them the new album, they will say it's great (or not) -
when the articles come out, they're all about
how many dogs you've got.
God to keep the human interest high,
and the hacks are only too willing to comply,
pander to the ego, build up frail men as gods -
but somewhere in the process, the prime purpose is forgotten.
        
Groupies offer their bodies, the hangers-on their coke;
it's all very jolly - what a joke!
Fellini creatures cluster round the dressing-room,
the heavenly bodies all got to have their moons.
In the cult of the superman the music plays a supporting role
and far more important is the shape of his nose,
the size of his codpiece and the cut of his clothes...
soul and feeling always take second place
to the bump and grind of a Fender bass.
Frankly, most musicians bore me - but not as much as those
who chase the glory to bask in reflected light,
making the man much more important
than his arpeggios and mordants,
when it's the other way that's right.
        
On the values by which this world makes its heroes
then the best violinist ever was Nero,
because he had the most Press
and his fire gimmick was simply the best.
        
We got the live thing too,
the Human Zoo:
Ten thousand arms are raised, just like the Hitler Youth -
ten thousand peace signs mark the entry of the sax.
Ten thousand peace signs,
but they're different from the back.

-------------


BaldJean and I; I am the one in blue.

Oh, and of course the title track of the album, predicting punk (in 1974).

Nadir's Big Chance

I've been hanging around, waiting for my chance
to tell you what I think about the music that's gone down
to which you madly danced - frankly, you know that it stinks.
I'm gonna scream, gonna shout, gonna play my guitar
until your body's rigid and you see stars.
        
Look at all the jerks in their tinsel glitter suits,
pansying around; look at all the nerks
in their leather platform boots, making with the heavy sound...
I'm gonna stamp on the stardust and scream till I'm ill -
if the guitar don't get ya, the drums will.
        
Now's my big break - let me up on the stage,
I'll show you what it's all about; enough of the fake,
bang your feet in a rage, tear down the walls and let us out!
We're more than mere morons, perpetually conned,
so come on everybody, smash the system with the song.
        
Smash the system with the song!

-------------


BaldJean and I; I am the one in blue.

Tom Petty & The Heartbreakers' song Joe:

My name's Joe, I'm the CEO
Yeah I'm the man makes the big wheels roll
I'm the hand on the green-light switch
You get to be famous, I get to be rich

Go get me a kid with a good lookin' face
Bring me a kid can remember his place
Some hungry poet son-of-a-bitch
He gets to be famous, I get to be rich

Or bring me a girl
They're always the best
You put 'em on stage and you have 'em undress
Some angel whore who can learn a guitar lick
Hey! Now that's what I call music!

Well they'll come lookin' for money when the public gets bored
But we'll fight 'em with lawyers they could never afford
Yeah I'll make her look like a spoiled little bitch
She gets to be famous, I get to be rich

Or bring me a girl
They're always the best
You put 'em on stage and you have 'em undress
Some angel whore who can learn a guitar lick
Hey! Now that's what I call music!

So burned out Johnny thinks the books are shifty
What good's that alchy to me when he's fifty?
Well we could move catalog if he'd only die quicker
Send my regards to the gig and a case of good liquor

He gets to be famous, I get to be rich
He gets to be famous, I get to be rich

My name's Joe, I'm the CEO
I'm the man makes the big wheels role

Great stuff so far!  I'm so glad there's so much of this out there!  Since I brought it up at the start, I thought it might be fun to re-read one of my all-time faves:

Death on Two Legs (Queen)

You suck my blood like a leach, You break the law and you breach
You screw my brain til it hurts -
You've taken all my money...you still want more...

Misguided old mule, with your pig-headed rules
With your narrow-minded cronies who are fools of the first vision

Death on two legs - you're tearing me apart
Death on two legs - you never had a heart of your own
Kill joy...bad guy...big-talking...small fry
You're just an old barrow boy
Have you found a new toy to replace me - can you face me?

But now you can kiss...my ass goodbye

Feel good...are you satisfied...do you feel like...suicide (I think you should)
Is your conscience all right?  Does it plague you at night?
Do you feel good? - Feel good!

Talk like a big business tycoon, you're just a hot-air balloon
So no one gives you a damn
You're just an overgrown schoolboy- let me tan your hide...

A dog with disease, you're the king of the sleaze
Put your money where your mouth is Mr. Know-all
Was the fin on your back part of the deal?  (Shark!)

Death on two legs - you're tearing me apart
Death on two legs - you never had a heart of your own (You never did, right from the start)
Insane...(you should be put) inside...(you're a) sewer rat decaying in a cesspool of pride
Should be made unemployed...then make yourself null and void
Make me feel good - I feel good!

-----

Keep the hits coming!

Mister Ten Percent (Bad Deal) from one of my favourite albums (TRIUMVIRAT - Illusions On A Double Dimple):

Hands off, mister ten percent!!!
We've got a gig tonight! Ha!!
Do you think we're gonna pay your rent?
Working for you 'til the end of our life!!

Your stories of success and fame
have turned the eyes quite wet, yeah!!
And striving for a better life...
We filled your money bag!!!!

A big mercedes
a house on a hill
a week in sweden
and we're paying the bill!

We paid your dinner
but not for long,
as we get thinner
taxis, hotels,
so on, and so on...

Hands off, mister ten percent!!!
We've got a gig tonight! Ha!!
Do you think we're gonna pay your rent?
Working for you 'til the end of our life!!

At first you took ten, tomorrow it's twenty!!
The more we give the more you want, ha!!
How could you think that you're still a friend??
It might be fifty in the end!!

Neil Young's "This Note's for you" was primarily a swipe at Michael Jackson's tour being sponsored by Pepsi:

"This Note's For You"

Don't want no cash
Don't need no money
Ain't got no stash
This note's for you.

Ain't singin' for Pepsi
Ain't singin' for Coke
I don't sing for nobody
Makes me look like a joke
This note's for you.

Ain't singin' for Miller
Don't sing for Bud
I won't sing for politicians
Ain't singin' for Spuds
This note's for you.

Don't need no cash
Don't want no money
Ain't got no stash
This note's for you.

I've got the real thing
I got the real thing, baby
I got the real thing
Yeah, alright.

Porcupine Tree:  Sound of Musak

Hear the sound of music
Drifting in the aisles
Elevator prozac
Stretching on for miles

The music of the future
Will not entertain
It's only meant to repress
And neutralise your brain

Soul gets squeezed out
Edges get blunt
Demographic
Gives what you want

Now the sound of music
Comes in silver pills
Engineered to suit you
Building cheaper thrills

The music of rebellion
Makes you wanna rage
But it's made by millionaires
Who are nearly twice your age

One of the wonders of the world is going down
It's going down I know
It's one of the blunders of the world that no-one cares
No-one cares enough

Here's another song from Gilbert's Shaming of the True:

.

.
.
It’s got tattoos, it’s got a pierced hood it’s got generation X
It’s got lesbians, and vitriol, and sadomasochistic latex sex
It’s got Mighty Morphin’ power brokers, and Tanya Harding nude
Macrobiotic lacto-vegen non-confrontational free range food
It’s got the handshake, peace talk, non-aggression pact
A multicultural interracial non-segregated historical fact
.
Say Amen. Hallelujah! Say Amen
It’s a certifiable number one smash
Hallelujah. Amen.
Certifiable undeniable solid platinum number one smash.
.
It’s got more hooks than a tackle box , it’s got really loud guitars
It’s got a blasting cap in the fertilizer, got the secret anguish of the network stars
It’s anti-fur, it’s unplugged, it’s got an OK from the Pope
Got art nails and a Wonderbra, and dread lock blunt rolled Buddha dope
Got the head nod, the finger pistol, the nose up in your crack
Montel, and Geraldo, and the women who hate the men that hate them back
.
Say Amen! Hallelujah! Say Amen
It’s a certifiable number one smash
Hallelujah! Amen!
Certifiable undeniable solid platinum number one smash.
.
Video Pitch:
.
Now I gotta tell ya about the video idea…your really gonna love this!
We start out in one of these rural churches in the middle of Alabama somewhere
and they’re havin’ this gigantic rave up gospel church festival
with fat women with their hands in the air yellin’ amen and hallelujah
and our boy, our hero, he’s right in the middle of it and religious fervor is just exploding off of his body
behind the alter of this church there’s this gigantic icon of a black Jesus Christ…who our boy later licks.
Smash cut to him on a hillside dancing wildly, half naked, with his undulating midriff sweating profusely in front of hundreds and hundreds of burning crosses
Smash cut back to the church only now it’s not a church right, it’s a courtroom
and the priest has become a judge and the choir’s become the Jury and black Jesus is on trial for raping our boy
So this really angry contingent of  fat trucker lookin’ guys sweeps up black Jesus beats him senseless and throws him in prison
where our boy takes pity on him, goes to him, weeps in front of the bars and then gives him a hand job through them.
but it’s all shot by Herb Ritz so it’s really beautiful and you feel sorry for both of them
All right, all right…so that we don’t offend everybody in the whole f**king world
at this point these two gigantic beautiful red velvet curtains close from either side of the screen and then reopen and the whole cast of the video takes a bow like it was a play or somethin’ right!…get it?
All right well, if you don’t get that you’ll get this…when those receipts start tearin’ in from all over the world you’re gonna kick the almighty god ass my friends because sixty billion flag waving fans in every stadium in the f**king planet are gonna be yellin’!…
.
Sequins, bell bottoms , peace and hope and love
OJ and VR and Elvis Jackson with a Blue Suede Glove
.
Say Amen! Hallelujah! Amen
Certifiable number one smash
Hallelujah! Amen!
Certifiable undeniable solid platinum number one smash.

Herewith, the aforementioned "Liarbird":

I Bought Myself A Liarbird (XTC)

I bought myself a liarbird - he came with free drinks just to blur
The lies falling out like rain on an average English summer's afternoon

I bought myself a new notebook - sharpened my guitar and went to look
If this biz was just as bongo as the liarbird made out

All he would say is "I can make you famous" - All he would say
All he would say - "Just like a household name" is all he would say

Methinks world is for you, made of what you believe
If it's false or it's true, you can read it in your Bible
Or on the back of this record sleeve

I bought myself a liarbird - things got more and more absurd
It changed to a cuckoo and expanded filling up with all I gave

I bought myself a big mistake - he grew too greedy, bough will break
And then we will find that liarbirds are really flightless on their own

All he would say is "I can make you famous" - All he would say
All he would say - "Just like a household name" is all he would say

Methinks world is for you, there's no handing it back
If it's false or it's true, you can read it in your prayer book
Or on the back of a Corn Flakes pack

I gave away a liarbird - a couple less drinks and now I've heard
The truth shining out like sun on an average English winter's afternoon

Spirit of Radio

Begin the day
With a friendly voice
A companion, unobtrusive
Plays that song that’s so elusive
And the magic music makes your morning mood

Off on your way
Hit the open road
There is magic at your fingers
For the spirit ever lingers
Undemanding contact
In your happy solitude

Invisible airwaves
Crackle with life
Bright antennae bristle
With the energy
Emotional feedback
On a timeless wavelength
Bearing a gift beyond price ---
Almost free...

All this machinery
Making modern music
Can still be open-hearted
Not so coldly charted
It’s really just a question
Of your honesty

One likes to believe
In the freedom of music
But glittering prizes
And endless compromises
Shatter the illusion
Of integrity

For the words of the profits
Are written on the studio wall,
Concert hall ---
Echoes with the sounds...
Of salesmen.

My italics highlight the recent Sony payola exposure that few people seem to have even batted an eyelid about.

What can you do against the media moguls that all act illegally, and treat their customers as the criminals when you're addicted to their opium?

escape from reality

"industry"

ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls
step up and see the latest "best band in the world"
this week we want you to release a hit single in the chart
i promise you all lots of sluts to satisfy your hearts
bigger house, swimming pool, expensive sports car
if you want to work with me, i will make you all stars
you, the singer, lets have you ditch that girl for a sham wife
and let the whole world marvel at every second of your life

my new product
i cant wait
i cant wait to sell you...

hello boys, can i have a few words?
i think that your new album is the best thing i've ever heard
it must be great to recieve all this fame
i'm sorry, to confess, i dont even know your names
but that doesn't mean i dont love you anyway
tell us all your secrets but don't tell us who you are
i bet you love trashing hotel rooms and smashing your guitars
your music and your pop just means everything to me
do you think it would be okay if i could kiss your ass on live tv?

my new product
i cant wait
i cant wait to sell you...

join us...
join us...

what do you mean no?

no??? NO!!! are you taking the f**king piss?!?
how dare you turn down a great offer like this!!!
i gave you everything, offered you the world
now you get nothing, no money, cars or girls
you could have been huge, but you wont sell out
now i'm really going to show you what hell is all about...

How about a band thumbing its nose at the people who listen to them?  To whit:

The Worst Band in the World (10CC)

It's one thing to know it, but another to admit
We're the worst band in the world, but we don't give a...

If Garbo played guitar with Valentino on the drums
Then we'd be nothing more than a bunch of darma bums, so
Tune up...........tune up.......

Well we've never done a day's work in our life, and our records sell in zillions
It irrigates my heart with greed...to know that you adore me
Up yours...up mine...but up everybody's?  That takes time!
But we're working on it!..........working on it

We've never seen the van (leave it to the roadies)
Never met the roadies (leave 'em in the van)
All because of circumstances way beyond control
We became the darlings of this thing called rock and roll

Oh, here I am a record on a juke box - a little piece of plastic with a hole
Oh, play me....Buy me and you play me and my plastic turns to gold

Here we are together on your hi-fi - a little piece of plastic with a hole
Fade me....fade me....fade me....fade me....

Not prog, but I love these Lyrics from Morrissey, about both a fans adoration for a rock star, and also the record companies greedy tactics to cash in on the stars death...

Paint a Vulgar Picture - The Smiths

At the record company meeting
On their hands - a dead star
And oh, the plans they weave
And oh, the sickening greed

At the record company party
On their hands - a dead star
The sycophantic sl*gs all say :
"I knew him first, and I knew him well"


Re-issue ! Re-package ! Re-package !
Re-evaluate the songs
Double-pack with a photograph
Extra Track (and a tacky badge)


A-list, playlist
"Please them , please them !"
"Please them !"
(sadly, THIS was your life)


But you could have said no
If you'd wanted to
You could have said no
If you'd wanted to


BPI, MTV, BBC
"Please them ! Please them !"
(sadly this was your life)

But you could have said no
If you'd wanted to
You could have walked away
...Couldn't you ?


I touched you at the soundcheck
You had no real way of knowing
In my heart I begged "Take me with you ...
I don't care where you're going..."


But to you I was faceless
I was fawning, I was boring
Just a child from those ugly new houses
Who could never begin to know


Who could never really know
Oh ...


Best of ! Most of !
Satiate the need
Slip them into different sleeves !
Buy both, and feel deceived


Climber - new entry, re-entry
World tour ! ("media whore")
"Please the Press in Belgium !"
(THIS was your life...)


And when it fails to recoup ?
Well, maybe :
You just haven't earned it yet, baby


I walked a pace behind you at the soundcheck
You're just the same as I am
What makes most people feel happy
Leads us headlong into harm


So, in my bedroom in those 'ugly new houses'
I danced my legs down to the knees
But me and my 'true love'
Will never meet again ...


At the record company meeting
On their hands - at last ! - a dead star !
But they can never taint you in my eyes
No, they can never touch you now


No, they cannot hurt you, my darling
They cannot touch you now
But me and my 'true love'
Will never meet again

tool's Hooker With a Penis, critical of those who accuse bands of "selling out"

I met a boy wearing Vans 501s and a
Dope Beastie tee nipple rings and
New tattoos that claimed that he
Was OGT
From '92
The first EP.
And in between
Sips of Coke
He told me that
He thought
We were sellin' out
Layin' down
Suckin' up
To the man.

Well now I've got some
A dvice for you little buddy.
Before you point the finger
You should know that
I'm the man

And if I'm the man

Then you're the man, and
He's the man as well so you can
Point that f**kin' finger up your ass.

All you know about me is what I've sold you,

Dumb f**k.

I sold out long before you ever even

heard my name.

I sold my soul to make a record,

Dip sh*t, and you bought one.

Tinsel Town Rebellion     Frank Zappa

Welcome to the Machine by Pink Floyd

Tiresias wrote: Welcome to the Machine by Pink Floyd

Closely followed () by Have a Cigar.

Interesting, there is so much stuff out there. I only knew Queen´s Death on Two Legs so far.

I do not know if Led Zeppelin did any kind of song like the above but they often mentioned (in interviews) that they weren´t interested in releasing any singles anymore due to pressure from the record company (before they founded their own label).