Hoorah!

Hi there you...

I just came across something on the net which amused me no end, and which I was in total agreement with.

THIS is what I'm talking about.

Yes, it was while I was looking up the 101 Black Metal Rules, but don't judge me! I likes my black metal.

In fact, just the other day I got an album by a band called Bal-Sagoth, which has one of those little blurby stickers on it. The stickers said, "Like Cradle of Filth meets Star Wars," which I think is a recommendation. Anyway, it's all black metally stuff, with this bizarre Lovecraftian theme going through it. It's like a more serious version of A Shoggoth On The Roof, or at least a noisier one.

There was a very odd moment there where iTunes picked out something ambient, possibly a snippet of Isis or something, and then it faded into Rock Bottom, by Kiss. Only, the funny thing was that it's off Alive!, which means it's just at the start of the encore, so it fades in with lots of weirded-up crowd noises. Sometimes iTunes is a lousy DJ, mostly in fact, but sometimes it's perversely brilliant...

Er, um and also... Bye.

Marquee Spoon

Tonight I saw Tom Verlaine in The Village and I really wish I hadn't.

First of all, Tom was up there with his mate Jimmy Rip (or RIP, or R.I.P., I'm not too sure...) with only electric guitars. No drums.

That sucked.

And the music was just dull!

I think it may be the first time I've paid €30 for a gig and left before the end.

Then I went downstairs, met Dec and had a pint and chatted and it was all great — if a little squished. Well, A Lot.

Dec said he fancied a smoke, so we headed towards the door and the bouncers started giving me shit about various things. I was not in the mood to be shoved about and so told them. This didn't go down well.

I was tired and annoyed and in the end, the mutual agreement was that I would not be returning to their shithole.

And so I'm at home playing with my laptop.

Not that I was planning to do anymore drinking, my stomach's really not appreciative of alcohol. Which is only slightly annoying.

Anyway, on my travels in cyberspace I spent some time hanging around MySpace. It's got some pretty cool stuff on it, although the fucking thing wasn't working properly tonight, so I couldn't really do anything except listen to the tunes.

Which is great an' all, but I'm, currently listening to Humanzi's album, Tremors, which is pretty fuckin' good, I must say. And have been, all day. I even featured them in the paper — this week's (or rather the August 6th issue's) main pick is Humanzi live at Oxegen earlier in the summer. So, big pic and positive blurb and my mission takes another step forward...

Yeah, so, as I was saying... MySpace has tons of cool stuff on it, including:

The Things

and

Sickboy (there's an interview with them in the August issue of Connected — look out for that!) (By the way, I figured out the links thing again — hurrah!)

Um... Yeah, the Humanzi one's pretty good too, as is Crimes Against (which is the site of Sickboy Drummer Dan's Side Project) and Aleko and if you follow the links from those you can probably find tons of other cool shit.

Check mine, HERE, and there is a plethora of interesting people among the friends...

Also, Star Kicking are well worth a look and a listen, although they're undergoing a staff problem at the minute. So, if any of you (hello...?) know of drummers kicking around and wanting to play some fantastically cool rock'n'roll in the Velvet Underground-y tradition, leave Alan a message at the above site...

Once again, Liz has buggered off leaving me to fend for myself against the people of Booterstown and Ze Germans. I can't say I'm terribly thrilled, cos I'm not.

And I have to go into the office tomorrow. Shite and Fuck.

Goodshite.

The return of the Mc

Oh, yeah... I'm back.

Who cares?

Me!

Anyway, I thought it'd be nice to start up a blog again because I now have a shiny laptop and broadband internet access, which me the greatest person on Earth, I think. Your opinions do not matter.

Sorry, somewhere along the way, while working for Ye Olde Daily Mail (or rather, Ye Newe Irishe Dailie Maile) I lost track of how to talk to people in anything other than a sneeringly superior fashion. Tis the way. Y'see.

Oh, Amanda Brown(e) left a message about a year ago saying I wouldn't be a journalist until I had something published. Well, how's a weekly radio column? Two, really, if you count both the Irish Daily Mail and Ireland On Sunday as separate papers. I don't because it's more or less the same copy goes into each. Not that I'm cheating, that's just how we roll...

Also, there's only so much you can say about the shows that are on and stretching that to one paper is hard enough!

Oh, and then there's Connected (I'll turn this into a link as soon as I remember how, it's been a long time!), which is mightily cool and available countrwide in HMV stores and other places.

So, I guess you could say I've become a journalist!

Wow, I'm a Professional!

I was walking by the British Embassy today and there was a garda outside. This is the only embassy other than the American that has cops outside and secrity up the ass. Paraniod?

I think so.

Is it because the entire world hates these two countries that they feel the need for this stuff?

Perhaps if they stopped bombing the shite out of places they wouldn't have to worry so much.

Just a thought.