Compassion is just one incarnation of several bands all with the common linking feature of Lol Coopog.

There are several other guises including Compassion Family, Pash’un, Liquid Chaos and The Anarchist Magicians.

“Watching the Sun rise, Junk Master Lol finds himself and enters the brotherhood of drug taking only to find himself at a tribal velvet situation (the ballad of a junkie). Much confused, even disillusioned in desperation he turns onto the goddess (in the form of a black witch from Brixton way) who points out, it’s okay.

Just get on with it, scum or bums. It don’t matter as long as we give it some 100%.

People are different, and with that he finds himself in India, with time to heal. And time to punish that old body of his until he believes in the soul, and see the light. A sprinkling of truth, no proof, none needed. Me takes his ideas of love back to the cold land and tries to make sense of it all. A love reprise, not yet void of emotions, it hurts when there’s no one there to kiss it better, even when wise to it. Bright eyes, because we gave it a try, and it’s back to the beginning, only different some what. Sing brother sing etc. etc. but the future is a woman”.

Lol Coopog

James Jenkins – guitar
Ed Glass – keyboards
Lol Coopog – vocals
Pablo Videla – Drums
Seamus D’arcy – bass


Dig That Shuffle And we are talking the five knuckle experience, we’re talking dancing the shuffle, because what we’re going to do is, we’re going to dig that shuffle.
That’s what we’re going to do, dig that shuffle, any maybe shuffle up some soul. Yeah we’re gonna dig that soul. Listen I’ll sing it, just dig it, dig that shuffle, dig that shuffle. And meanwhile, back in the real world, the fires still burning hard, because everyone’s digging that shuffle, deeper and
deeper, dig that shuffle. 

Our World Parts 3 Money don’t buy everything it’s true, can’t buy love and it can’t buy you, but it does. No more money, no more greed, just one less thing to sing about. Why is it in a world of so full of hate people sell it and make
money from hate. Why hate when we can just so easily love? Why destroy the
only world we have? I love so much, but there’s so much I still hate. The giving of love costs nothing so why the hate? I know there is love, because money don’t buy everything it’s true, can’t buy love and it can’t buy you, but it does, Yeah, because I’ve seen it on telly.

Theme From A Compassion Compromise? No I don’t think so. Even if it’s just rock’n’roll. Please believe me, sincerely . I’ve screamed it, been it and now it’s just me saving the world. My commitment just isn’t in it, but if you listen, I’ll sing it. Compassion or just plain passion, so simple when all it is , is I love you. Shout the words of wisdom, tell them I’ve had enough, shout the words of wisdom, and it goes like this. Not all the time but we do have our
moments. I’ll kiss it better I promise, I’ll try, but if the worlds dying what am I supposed to do?

And If This Is The Song Just who do I turn for inspiration, when the inspirations gone? Love, you tell me is uncontrollable, isn’t that what makes it beautiful. Imagination, sing me a dream or two, just sing on. Honesty is, I love anything beautiful. Together, don’t we all sing, 10 notes on a summers day. The stabs in the back always bring us back to normality. Does it matter? It happens to the
best of us. Whose to say my commitments in it? We only offer togetherness, not politics. The politics of love, aren’t political at all. But if it hurts, and the answer is, sometimes we all do. And if this is the song sing on, the politics of love, sing on, sing on.

But In Our Words Spectators, is that really as close as we get? Motion, yet motionless, only dancing the shuffle is left. Poetry without the motion. There’s no conclusion, only refuge. Politics will smother you, seek no comfort there.
Enter the heart. I’m still not to sure. It’s a hope situation, built on dreams, flaunting peace. Because politics will smother you. Groove it or shun it. And the beauty of it all, it could be anyone at all. This is the
audience on the stage, no more heartaches. I couldn’t stand the pain. All I ask is purity. Spectators is that really as close as we get?

6 Seconds Remix Can we say no to the suffering, could you care less about the suffering? A monkey dies in a British lab. McDonalds beef _ it’s the best you’ve had. A dog fed poison, every six seconds in a British lab, an animal dies.
McDonalds beef and French fries, another cat dies, in a British lab. Another animal dies, you feel no pain, no one cries, just another useless death, in a British lab.

Your Ulster More control, more rock’n’roll. Like shit to flies, the media cover cover it up with lies. Where they could so easily have our support, they kill us without thought. By blowing up innocent victims, they will gain no support. So in ’69 it was fine? Your alternative Ulster not mine. Bodies in Hyde
Park, bodies on our streets, bodies of the innocent _ how much more rotting dead meat? Soldiers blown to bits, children shot in the head. How many soldiers killed, how many innocent people are dead? And I ask what for, who knows, and who cares anymore? It’s only shit street for the people who live there, and who am I to care. I don’t live there, why the fuck should I care.
But I do, do you?

Useless Slaughter Rabbits sniffing glue, walking down the street. Badgers dying their hair bright pink. Gold fish wearing after shave and it all just stinks. Because no animals wear after shave, they don’t dye their hair. It’s only us humans who don’t seem to care. We kill thousands of millions of animals every
single day, is this the human way? Blood sport, a sport in which animals are pursued and killed for the fun and pleasure of humans. Stop exploiting and stop being exploited. Be a spoil sport, smash blood sports. The slaughter goes on and it’s just another song, the slaughters still going on and on and on and it’s wrong. Stop it.