A few moments of fevered excitement... Quivering...
Hey-ho and away we go... I'm continuing my self-aggrandizement/debasement (depending on your sense of humour and/or point of view) with the next What's Going On? column - this one from February or March 2006... Which is four years ago now...In fact, I can't open the PDF, so this was found in an email and I see I submitted it on Feb 16, 2006... I like ellipses...
But before I go ahead with that (perhaps I should be commenting on them along the way, I dunno) I just want to point out that I am all palm-sweats and belly-trembles at the news that my longest-running man-crush, Eugene S. Robinson of Oxbow, is going to be playing at The Lab in March. This is especially exciting to me because I have recently started 'working' (volunteering, actually) there as some form of photographer. (You can see the results of my unhandiwork here, but more specifically here and here.) Yeah, I get to hang out with all the cool guys.
Well, OK, I get to be in the room while the cool guys converse among themselves and ignore me - perhaps occasionally glancing my way in a manner that suggests there's a fart in the air that is undoubtedly mine - but isn't that better than being some loser who pays to go to gigs?
Anyway, tomorrow is Godwaffle Noise Pancakes and I have to get up before midday to be there, um, before midday so I can fotograf it and then blog it. Woohoo!
I like Thomas Dimuzio (aka Mega Gord 256, seemingly) so I look forward to that jazz.
But enough, this is almost like a real blog post or something - treat your eyes and brain to some much-younger Steve and his wafflings. Take it away, Younger Steve:
Ah, another month another load of awards shows. Well, we've all seen 'em, sworn at 'em and generally called their whole existence into question. And that is all I will say on the subject.
Well, almost.
Grrrrrrrrrreat news for the world in general - Coldplay are going to fuck off, for a while at least. When accepting an award he didn't deserve at the Brits recently, Chris Martin was heard to whine, "That's it." He said, "We won't see you for a very long time."
The glee in the room was palpable and the rest of the band (whatever their bland names are) were even heard to whisper, "Great, we can form that funky jazz-techno group we've been working on." Go to it boys, and good luck.
Other over-rated wastes of space causing a stir recently include Madonna, who has been stirring up all sorts of rumours about her marriage to That Guy Who Made Lock Stock... We at Connected can exclusively reveal the truth - it was a shameless publicity stunt to get people interested in the craggy diva before she goes on tour later this year.
Pete Doherty astounded fans and critics alike by not being sent to jail for the remainder of his natural life. The Babyshambles frontman - who is currently in the running for the Stupidest Bleedin' Druggie On The Planet Award - managed to get off with little more than a slap on the wrist, despite strolling around with more drugs in and on his person than a gang of Colombian drug mules on a weekend pleasure cruise. The mind boggles.
Fans of misery and disappointment will be over-joyed to hear that Billy Corgan and Jimmy Chamberlain are indeed resurrecting the Smashing Pumpkins. One question Billy, why?
For the answer to this one we must look at recent offerings from the pen of Billy. Zwan, bombed. Solo album, bombed in style. Book of poems, "I didn't even know he'd released one!" is the usual response... So, flog that dead horse, you crazy slap-head.
Proving that having the biggest selling British debut album of all time cuts no flap-jacks against the raging tide of hip-hop, the Arctic Monkeys were booted down to number two in the charts by nine-years-dead rapper, Notorious B.I.G. Fair play to the fat fuck for still going. If only all our dead were this productive, there'd be no need to get up for work on a Monday morning...
Speaking of dead people, rapper Busta Rhymes sees them, but he won't tell them damn cops nothin' about it. Rhymes' bodyguard was the recipient of 14 shots, fired from an AK-47 assault rifle outside the studio the artist was filming a video in. Police, aside from being irked by the lack of co-operation from the rap camp, believe it was part of an argument that spilled onto the street.*
An argument? With someone holding an AK-47? There's one for the Darwin awards, anyway...
That's all for now, it only remains for me to say - Barry Manilow's comeback. Who the fuck is buying these records?!
*There is a terribly unfunny in-joke in the next WGO regarding this particular bit of off-the-cuff ranting. Apparently I was supposed to insert 'allegedly' in there somewhere, didn't and got one of those amusing Ed. notes that I love so much inserted in the text. Marvellous! Just so you know, for when you don't read the next post, either...
But before I go ahead with that (perhaps I should be commenting on them along the way, I dunno) I just want to point out that I am all palm-sweats and belly-trembles at the news that my longest-running man-crush, Eugene S. Robinson of Oxbow, is going to be playing at The Lab in March. This is especially exciting to me because I have recently started 'working' (volunteering, actually) there as some form of photographer. (You can see the results of my unhandiwork here, but more specifically here and here.) Yeah, I get to hang out with all the cool guys.
Well, OK, I get to be in the room while the cool guys converse among themselves and ignore me - perhaps occasionally glancing my way in a manner that suggests there's a fart in the air that is undoubtedly mine - but isn't that better than being some loser who pays to go to gigs?
Anyway, tomorrow is Godwaffle Noise Pancakes and I have to get up before midday to be there, um, before midday so I can fotograf it and then blog it. Woohoo!
I like Thomas Dimuzio (aka Mega Gord 256, seemingly) so I look forward to that jazz.
But enough, this is almost like a real blog post or something - treat your eyes and brain to some much-younger Steve and his wafflings. Take it away, Younger Steve:
Ah, another month another load of awards shows. Well, we've all seen 'em, sworn at 'em and generally called their whole existence into question. And that is all I will say on the subject.
Well, almost.
Grrrrrrrrrreat news for the world in general - Coldplay are going to fuck off, for a while at least. When accepting an award he didn't deserve at the Brits recently, Chris Martin was heard to whine, "That's it." He said, "We won't see you for a very long time."
The glee in the room was palpable and the rest of the band (whatever their bland names are) were even heard to whisper, "Great, we can form that funky jazz-techno group we've been working on." Go to it boys, and good luck.
Other over-rated wastes of space causing a stir recently include Madonna, who has been stirring up all sorts of rumours about her marriage to That Guy Who Made Lock Stock... We at Connected can exclusively reveal the truth - it was a shameless publicity stunt to get people interested in the craggy diva before she goes on tour later this year.
Pete Doherty astounded fans and critics alike by not being sent to jail for the remainder of his natural life. The Babyshambles frontman - who is currently in the running for the Stupidest Bleedin' Druggie On The Planet Award - managed to get off with little more than a slap on the wrist, despite strolling around with more drugs in and on his person than a gang of Colombian drug mules on a weekend pleasure cruise. The mind boggles.
Fans of misery and disappointment will be over-joyed to hear that Billy Corgan and Jimmy Chamberlain are indeed resurrecting the Smashing Pumpkins. One question Billy, why?
For the answer to this one we must look at recent offerings from the pen of Billy. Zwan, bombed. Solo album, bombed in style. Book of poems, "I didn't even know he'd released one!" is the usual response... So, flog that dead horse, you crazy slap-head.
Proving that having the biggest selling British debut album of all time cuts no flap-jacks against the raging tide of hip-hop, the Arctic Monkeys were booted down to number two in the charts by nine-years-dead rapper, Notorious B.I.G. Fair play to the fat fuck for still going. If only all our dead were this productive, there'd be no need to get up for work on a Monday morning...
Speaking of dead people, rapper Busta Rhymes sees them, but he won't tell them damn cops nothin' about it. Rhymes' bodyguard was the recipient of 14 shots, fired from an AK-47 assault rifle outside the studio the artist was filming a video in. Police, aside from being irked by the lack of co-operation from the rap camp, believe it was part of an argument that spilled onto the street.*
An argument? With someone holding an AK-47? There's one for the Darwin awards, anyway...
That's all for now, it only remains for me to say - Barry Manilow's comeback. Who the fuck is buying these records?!
*There is a terribly unfunny in-joke in the next WGO regarding this particular bit of off-the-cuff ranting. Apparently I was supposed to insert 'allegedly' in there somewhere, didn't and got one of those amusing Ed. notes that I love so much inserted in the text. Marvellous! Just so you know, for when you don't read the next post, either...
posted by Stephen McMullin at 8:19 am
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