Waking up to a bracing breakfast of rice cakes and a jeraboam of tramp’s piss, I am intrigued to learn that, once again, Mr Pete Doherty, sometime member of The Libertines and Babyshambles, is currently serving a 14 week term at Her Majesty’s Pleasure, for failing to turn up to probation hearings on time and for drug use.
Well, you f***ing ask me, that’s a bit f***ing harsh – I’d have given him a suspended sentence. That is, suspended the sallow streak of f***ing rat’s vomit by the f***ing testicles from a f***ing church hall light fitting for 14 weeks so’s he’d find out what being high’s really f***ing about! And I’ll tell you what, if I was the parish vicar, I’d invite in the f***ing local kids, hand them out leap piping and f***ing baseball bats and have them twat the arsehole about like a f***ing pinyatta! F***ing Pete Doherty! Did the arse end of indie ever squirt out anyone who epitomised the uncut essence of c*** than this f***er? He made a bunch of f***ing records I’d rather excrete acorns than ever f***ing listen to again, he hangs off the arm of a vile, carcinogenic f***ing skeleton, then he spends the rest of his non-career wasting space as some sort of f***ing poster boy for f***ing smack! He’s a f***ing f***head who’s shat himself to f***ery and he still has f***ing idiots idolising him? Idolise the f***ing piss-stained mattress he’s currently deservedly sleeping on, you stupid f***ing arsewits, at least it’s performing some sort of f***ing social function!
Bristolian trip-hoppers Massive Attack are curating this year’s Meltdown Festival. Among the artists featured in the line-up they’ve put together are Grace Jones, Stiff Little Fingers, Elbow and Yellow Magic Orchestra, while also featured is the Vangelis Blade Runner soundtrack. According to the Meltdown website, Massive Attack are "no strangers to all that’s weird and wonderful in the music world!"
Well, yes, we can f***ing see that! Vangelis? Yellow Magic Orchestra? Synthesizer music? Ooh, strange and scary synthesizers, harbingers of the weird and wonderful 1990s to come, I think I’ve just browned my f***ing trousers! For f***’s sake, what dead and buried rectum did they f***ing pull this f***ing line-up out of? Stiff Little Fingers? There’s one f***ng Belfast minicab controller who’s gonna be short on drivers that f***ing night! Grace Jones? F***ing face it, who wouldn’t rather watch f***ing Eartha Kitt strip in 2008 than watch whatever f***ing passes for a Grace Jones performance nowadays? Elbow? Hard to tell them from your f***ing arse, then as f***ing now! C***s!
Finally, it seems that the Scottish band Glasvegas, much heralded by Alan McGee, are currently spending 12 hours a day in the studio working on their latest album.
12 hours? Doing f***ing what? Are they building their f***ing instruments from scratch out of f***ing matchsticks, or what? Because don’t f***ing tell me it takes more f***ing time to think up their songs as it does to f***ing perform them! Take the most warmed over, twentieth hand indie f***ing cliches then plod the most predictable course of f***ing chord changes imaginable, then bray something over the top that you’re spotty and f***ing miserable! "Glasvegas", though, some f***ing name that is! Imagine, take two of the finest cities on earth, cities of deep fried Mars bars and men trundling around on f***ing caster wheels attached to their f***ing arses, and what have you f***ing got, eh? Another winner for Alan McGee, connoisseur of the desperately Scottish and desperately f***ing ordinary! They might as well have f***ing called themselves The Pisshits and had f***ing done with it!
