Somehow Spain and Punk don’t seem the most natural combination to me. Maybe Spanish people are just too nice too spit in the face of society – even at times of crisis. That said, a scene does exist so it’s about time this blog investigated it.

Though they sold few records at the time, La Banda Trapera del Río have become probably the most respected of the original punk bands from Spain. This track was the B-side to their first single in 1978, and it also lends its title to an acclaimed 2010 documentary about the band.



Vivís, en cuatro paredes

agobiados del mal olor

De aceite de comida barata

que se adhiere al narizón


Soportáis las cuatro paredes,

soportáis el mal olor

Soportáis pagar impuestos

soportáis la humillación


Vivís en la ciudad satélite

La gente a todo confort.

El metro al lado de casa,

pero de barro hasta el pantalón.


Creéis que estamos salvados,

pero estáis en un rincón

En un rincón de mierda,

de control y represión


Venid a las cloacas,

estaréis mucho mejor

Identificaos con las ratas,

no vayáis al paredón


Venid a las cloacas

Donde no hay más control

que una caverna de mierda,

de peste y mal olor


Venid todos juntos,

saldremos al exterior

para ver fluir las heces

que vierte la sociedad


Obrero, te llaman siempre

perro y derrochador

En la ciudad satélite,

las ratas al exterior


Yo habito en los bloques verdes,

y vivo con tensión

el pánico de la noche,

el terror y la violación


Por eso ciudad satélite

es como una enorme cloaca

por eso sus habitantes

tienen rabo como las ratas


rabo como las ratas, de cloaca



You live between four walls

heavy with the stink

of greasy junk food

and it’s getting up your big nose


You put up with the four walls

You put up with the stink

You put up with paying taxes

You put up with the humiliation


You live in a satellite town

People living in luxury

The subway next to your house,

but with mud up your trouser legs


You think that we’re saved,

but you’re in a corner

In a corner of shit,

control and repression


Come to the sewers,

you’ll be much better

You can relate to the rats,

Don’t go up against the wall


Come to the sewers

Where there’s no more control

than in a cave of shit,

that stinks and reeks


Everyone come together,

we’ll go outside

to see the shit flowing

pouring out of society


Workers – they always call you

dog or tight fisted

In the satellite town

with the rats outside


I live in the green tower blocks

I live with tension

fear of the night

terror and rape


This satellite town

is like a huge sewer

so its inhabitants

have tails like rats


tails like rats in a sewer


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