The song lyrics were written by the band Van Halen, as they were asked to write a song for the 1979 movie "Over the Edge" starring Matt Dillon. The movie (and the lyrics, although more obliquely) are about bored, rebellious youth with nothing better to do than get into trouble. If you see the movie, these lyrics will make more sense. It's a great movie if you grew up in the 70s/80s you'll definitely remember some of these characters from your own life. Fun fact, after writing the song, Van Halen decided not to let the movie use it.
Saturday,
Where else are you gonna go
Ain't no way,
I'm gonna end up at the disco,
Make my way,
Through fist fights and stilettos,
To rock and roll, rock and roll.
Saturday,
Where else are you gonna go?
There's no way,
I'm gonna end up at the disco,
Make my way,
Through fist fights and stilettos,
To rock and roll, rock and roll, to rock and roll, rock and roll.
There's a club on the coast, where the kids get lost, and no one's gonna stare,
Yeah, sharp T's and bleached jeans with dayglow mohawk hair,
Yeah, misfits and homeless kids call their home there,
Don't tell me it ain't real! Don't you fucking dare!
Yeah, ten punk pile in the car, nothing going on,
Turn up my radio, 'cause it's my favorite song,
There's a club on the coast where all the kids get along,
Skins and punk, and wayward ones,
Nothing could go wrong!
Saturday,
Where else are you gonna go?
There's no way,
I'm gonna end up at the disco,
Make my way,
Through fist fights and stilettos,
To rock and roll, rock and roll.
Saturday,
Where else are you gonna go?
There's no way,
I'm gonna end up at the disco,
Make my way,
Through fist fights and stilettos,
To rock and roll, rock and roll, rock and roll,
To rock and roll, rock and roll.
Do you know what, when I show up, there's gonna be some fucking action,
Show me the styles once in a while, that's the fucking attraction,
She said I'ma fuck 'em up, that's the satisfaction,
Bottle of red, straight ahead, detox transaction,
Hells Angels ran my neighborhood,
It was always understood,
I was running errands for the Angels,
I was a little fucking hood!
Punk rock was my way out, it was always in my blood,
And didn't give a fuck if I was locked up, should be dead or in jail!
Saturday,
Where else are you gonna go?
There's no way,
I'm gonna end up at the disco,
Make my way,
Through fist fights and stilettos,
To rock and roll, rock and roll.
Saturday,
Where else are you gonna go?
There's no way,
I'm gonna end up at the disco,
Make my way,
Through fist fights and stilettos,
To rock and roll, rock and roll.
Family turns their back on their son,
Now we're all alone,
Now we ain't got a home,
Now we're among our own!
Saturday,
Where else are you gonna go?
There's no way,
I'm gonna end up at the disco,
Make my way,
Through fist fights and stilettos,
To rock and roll, rock and roll.
Saturday,
Where else are you gonna go?
There's no way,
I'm gonna end up at the disco,
Make my way,
Through fist fights and stilettos,
To rock and roll, rock and roll, rock and roll,
To rock and roll, rock and roll, rock and roll
To rock and roll, rock and roll, rock and roll
To rock and roll, rock and roll, rock and roll
To rock and roll, rock and roll, rock and roll
Where else are you gonna go
Ain't no way,
I'm gonna end up at the disco,
Make my way,
Through fist fights and stilettos,
To rock and roll, rock and roll.
Saturday,
Where else are you gonna go?
There's no way,
I'm gonna end up at the disco,
Make my way,
Through fist fights and stilettos,
To rock and roll, rock and roll, to rock and roll, rock and roll.
There's a club on the coast, where the kids get lost, and no one's gonna stare,
Yeah, sharp T's and bleached jeans with dayglow mohawk hair,
Yeah, misfits and homeless kids call their home there,
Don't tell me it ain't real! Don't you fucking dare!
Yeah, ten punk pile in the car, nothing going on,
Turn up my radio, 'cause it's my favorite song,
There's a club on the coast where all the kids get along,
Skins and punk, and wayward ones,
Nothing could go wrong!
Saturday,
Where else are you gonna go?
There's no way,
I'm gonna end up at the disco,
Make my way,
Through fist fights and stilettos,
To rock and roll, rock and roll.
Saturday,
Where else are you gonna go?
There's no way,
I'm gonna end up at the disco,
Make my way,
Through fist fights and stilettos,
To rock and roll, rock and roll, rock and roll,
To rock and roll, rock and roll.
Do you know what, when I show up, there's gonna be some fucking action,
Show me the styles once in a while, that's the fucking attraction,
She said I'ma fuck 'em up, that's the satisfaction,
Bottle of red, straight ahead, detox transaction,
Hells Angels ran my neighborhood,
It was always understood,
I was running errands for the Angels,
I was a little fucking hood!
Punk rock was my way out, it was always in my blood,
And didn't give a fuck if I was locked up, should be dead or in jail!
Saturday,
Where else are you gonna go?
There's no way,
I'm gonna end up at the disco,
Make my way,
Through fist fights and stilettos,
To rock and roll, rock and roll.
Saturday,
Where else are you gonna go?
There's no way,
I'm gonna end up at the disco,
Make my way,
Through fist fights and stilettos,
To rock and roll, rock and roll.
Family turns their back on their son,
Now we're all alone,
Now we ain't got a home,
Now we're among our own!
Saturday,
Where else are you gonna go?
There's no way,
I'm gonna end up at the disco,
Make my way,
Through fist fights and stilettos,
To rock and roll, rock and roll.
Saturday,
Where else are you gonna go?
There's no way,
I'm gonna end up at the disco,
Make my way,
Through fist fights and stilettos,
To rock and roll, rock and roll, rock and roll,
To rock and roll, rock and roll, rock and roll
To rock and roll, rock and roll, rock and roll
To rock and roll, rock and roll, rock and roll
To rock and roll, rock and roll, rock and roll
Lyrics submitted by cynical_dan
Spirit of '87 Lyrics as written by Lars Frederiksen Carlock David Walter
Lyrics © Wixen Music Publishing
Lyrics powered by LyricFind
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I would really like this song much better if it wasn't a Rancid song. To be swift and to the point, Rancid sucks. One reason, Tim Armstrong is not a musician, he is nothing but coughed up shit from the California punk scene, he thinks that it is cool to disrespect true punks. Back in I believe October of 2005 a rumor surfaced sent from the mouth of Armstrong, it went something like this, "So the Clash has called upon me to fill Strummer's shoes as frontman, they are reuniting and they are bringing me along to fill in for the late Strummer. We recently rehearsed "London Calling" and it was fuckin intense..." He just went on spilling pure bullshit. So it was said that the tour would start in December and end in February or so. This was brought to Mick Jone's attention along with Paul Simon, these were shot down almost immediately. There is always though of a reuniting tour but even if it did happen the late, great Strummer's shoes woulb be filled by someone such as Elvis Costello, no one near the likes of Tim Armstrong, it was all a rumor he started, they went on, saying that is was a disgrace to the Clash, rock music, and Joe Strummer in all. If you haven't seen yet that Tim is an asshole who deserves to be beaten the shit out of by the Dead Boys and left for dead outside some sleazy bar in NYC, then maybe this will pull you away from Rancid once and for all. Ok so you think Lars out of everyone would be the toughest, I mean look at the Bastards, they are pretty rough right? Wrong! Very wrong indeed. Warped Tour is home to many great bands and many lame ass bands in the summertime, one of those bands is Simple Plan. Guess who has been giving them props for the past three years or so? Lars Fredriksen, he thinks they "rip" and are "awesome", he said that everyday Simple Plan played, usually when he joined the Dropkick Murphys during their set. Him saying this over the microphone to the folks who watched the Dropkicks was immediately received by the crowds, with a tsunami of "fuck yous!", middle fingers and other insults directed towards Lars and Simple Plan, nonetheless he said it everyday and the same reaction was there. To make the hating complete lars acts like the Dropkicks are his guests, not the other way, well usually following his little speech about shitty pop-punk, the band would rip into the scenster/emo-bashing crowd favorite, "Wicked Sensitive Crew". Hopefully this has convinced many of you Rancid fans to forget about them for good and discontinue your support for them. Rancid turned their back on the punk community that got them going and it is truly a slap in the face and for that I say, "Rancid are a bunch of cheap bastard sell outs, who like once said before show have the living shit kicked out of each of them by the Dead Boys and left for dead outside a New York City bar" They wouldn't last an hour if they were a band back in the late 70s/early 80s punk scene, they had to wait for things to "settle down" for them to preach their bullshit!
Fail.