Tuesday, 8 September 2009
Saw the old STONE ROSES documentary (at the BBC). Manchester Bands. Fookin’ Manchester Bands. They tend to have such promise only to self destruct in the end. We are filled with envy all the way. We wish we could have taken a ride to the downward spiral. But then again, we’re from the Philippines and we cover Manchester bands to death. I hope they all self-destruct or maybe cover something else but damage has already been done. We’re all Manchester band wannabees. Well fook ‘em all. I’m from Salford and that makes a fookin’ big difference.
We’re all suckers for hairstyles. We’re suckers for shoes. We buy because we see some Manchester wanker wearing the same shyte.
Was I a regular at the HACIENDA or THE INTERNATIONAL? Neither. I was probably under the bridge sniffing glue with my fellow bums. I probably wasn’t making music but started when Tony “Fookin” Wilson asked everybody to loot the Hacienda. We was able to get me hands on a (I later discovered as a) 4 track tape recorder, a used acoustic guitar pick-up and some kind of guitar pedal. It has MARKER writing on it that says “HOOKY” (probably the name of the owner). I got all these gear together in me house/room or whatever you may call it and try to get them to work so that I could sell the gear. I tried to make the damn amplifier to work but I ain’t a musician so I tried to record the noise with the tape machine. The rest is not history because I kept the tape until this day and those wankers who heard it say it’s art. Those cunts. They probably read too much Oscar Wilde and watch movies with sub-titles in it or getting too many degrees just for the heck of it.
Please. Not another rock and roll movie. We had enough. Control was the last straw. Why dear Anton? Why? People should leave Joy Division alone. Why not leave Manchester music alone. The cycle would end eventually but make it sooner. I can’t endure a dude wearing a clean “The Smiths” shirt and a “Stone Roses” haircut and a Peter Saville “Adidas” shoes and tracksuit. Let the madness end please.
Another angry female singer/songwriter releases a CD. Does it work? No. Why? Fookin’hell she’s only 20 she hasn’t been through shit. She hasn’t had heroin or even alcohol. The credit goes to the “ghost” songwriter who’s probably old, been through shit and probably suicidal because a wide-eye teeny bopper is going to take credit for her song. Here’s a middle finger from NICO, darling. No? Oh, she’s drugged out and dead. Now that’s rock and roll, baby!
The endless up and down motion punctuated by a hiss of steam a scream of rubbing steel and spark of metal making contact with concrete. Music. Madness. Mayhem. Noise. Like I said, MUSIC.
Review - Hermann Goebells – “Krakow”- (Jean-Paul Newman MIX) Single
“Metal rubbing the concrete makes an intolerable noise which actually makes you cringe as an uncomfortable feeling flows through your veins. You will get goose bumps and there will be gnashing of teeth. Then followed by dizziness and vertigo as your eardrums give out all you can hear in a high pitch signaling the end of hearing. Then your ears bleed in crimson glory”. AURGASM. – Mitch Stevens – Shit Magazine