Sit tight there – this is a HISTORY lesson, no less. Four fanciful young types, exploding all over each other, makes you shudder – reach for the bladder control quick Jackie, these bastards want me to piss all over myself or something. And my how these kids can turn into old aged FOUR WHEEL DRIVE DAD types – blink and I missed it, no turning back now. Piss yourself to put out a fire? I think not chump.
We’re hollering, elongating vowels trying to entice crafty seagulls down from their comfortable post-luncheon strutting up amongst the gargoyles up on the old church – THIS ISN’T REALLY LIVING. Or is it? No, it’s one step better, this, is EXCITING. Now that’ something you don’t get every day is it? So we throw the rocks up, nice chunky ones, none of your pebbles, we’re not here to get let in late at night because we’ve stayed out past the curfew; we’re here to BREAK something. The fuckers won’t budge though – and you’d hardly blame them. And so we scream and wail, we turn words and sentences that could have been fascinating into banal little irrelevancies, and then we stretch them out, re-spell’em, regurgitate’em until it doesn’t mean anything, and the rocks, the rocks, THE FUCKING ROCKS, are not even close to knocking those seagulls down from up high, and all of a sudden, without anyone noticing, we aren’t even talking anymore, and I HAVE NO IDEA WHAT YOU’RE TRYING TO GET ACROSS!>£M<!:!
So we smile a little smile, quietly to ourselves, having calmed down and made a nice cup of herbal tea, and what do you know? It’s actually relaxing. So we search for adjectives, metaphors, analogies, similarities, differences, moments of inspired genius – everybody always wants to be a poet, I’d love to see one of em make it. But these tired mechanisms are failing me, even the grand old overbearing metaphor (see above) is getting a bit stale in the face of this – what to do, what to do?
Cut to it, and quick, that’s what, this is starting to ramble, and nobody wants that:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
We’re back here again, and we’re talking about music pretty openly, honestly, clearly, without any of the usual rhetoric, the wild flights of fancy, the jokes and distractions, just telling it like it is. (Deep breaths, here we go!>£)))) You always end up wanting that something extra, a drop of magic, personality, conviction, charisma, arrogance, inventiveness, playfulness, just a fucking clue about doing things without pandering to things that fit neatly into categories like adjective/melody/poetry/rhythym/…/ FUCK EM. But this, and believe me, I don’t feel good about myself saying this, has lost that drive, blood, guts and charisma that made it the hall of fame entry ticket rock-cannon birthday cake once upon a time. Why? How should I know? Ask them.
It’s just about impossible to get excited about this on almost any level now. And that’s a shame. I remember listening to it once upon a time, back when blind enthusiasm would impress me, and being not exactly blown away, but wanting to sense a kindred spirit in there. But a cliché becomes a cliché begets a cliché, and sooner or later the jokes going to get old, and you look beyond the stylings. By the time we get to the pompous ponderings of the second side of the album I’m so bored I can hardly live with myself. Once upon a time this lot were EXCITING. Some days, yes I do. I wish I was like you/easily amused. It’s trite, and a steal, but these idiots have been going on and on and on about their car radio for the last four minutes, and show no sign of stopping whatsoever.
Sometimes, when you base your values on those intangible qualities that hide just below the surface, pulling you in with impossible power, moving things inside you, even that can get stale. At least when it’s called a ‘MOVEMENT, and when you’ve given up that tiny little piece of your soul to four hundred different punk bands already, and it’s starting to spread a bit thin, you just have to look a bit further, for something a bit deeper that you wanted from Rock & Roll in the first place. You could be as pompous as the cretin playing an organ solo right now and call it meta-depth, but that, is bullshit. You can only use your sympathy vote so many times over.
And unfortunately, I just don’t care enough. I want to be excited.
