Getting down to the Chollie Wollies.
It's a strange ol' day indeed. The internet is occupied with only one singular subject - the pros and cons of the Chili Peppers. Seems that for every person that's stoked over the moon to finally see their musical heroes, there is another incensed by their very existence. Whatever - they were certainly deemed an important act in my youth. That fact alone should be some form of indication as to how dated they are. I wouldn't call myself a fan, but I was briefly interested when Dave Navarro played for them. And I have a tatty old VHS copy of Suburbia, which stars a pubescent Flea, as well as 'Scar Tissue' - the awesome autobiography of one Anthony Keidis. Thankfully though, the full impact of their music passed me by rather unnoticed as I immersed myself in trying to look cool and be associated with general glumness back in the day.
But I don't begrudge them their Big Concerts put-out-to-pasture tour. The fact is they're probably going to put on a super professional show and the people are going to go buck wild. Just not my cup of tea, dear. I'm more than likely to discard my briefs in the direction of the stage for a Morrissey writhe-fest. And let it be known - to all the naysayers out there that insist that younger, more relevant, acts should rather be brought out to our shores - that Ramfest is already doing this. The fact that your taste is oh-so-unique-and-different just means you're a prick, not a connoisseur. Come back to me when the first eiderdown fluff starts sprouting in your nether regions. Only one man is allowed to be as caustic as he has been on the net about the Chili Willies, and that's L.I.Am, because he's earned the right to be Cape Town's resident Miserable Old C-word. Even although he's actually just my apprentice by virtue of age difference.
Here's a fun thing to try when they sing "Dreeeeeam Of Californicaaaaa-tion!" Sing along - at the top of your lungs - with all your friends - all together now - "Preeeeee-mature Ejaculaaaaaa-tion!" It cannot be unheard. You may thank me later. All major credit cards and most locally brewed beers are accepted!
Oh, "By The Way" the Chilis vs Die Antwoord will always be won by the Chilis. They have a song called "Zephyr", which clearly trumps the only thing Die Antwoord have based their entire career upon.
Whatever. It's got to be better than having to endure Andre Rieu. Or some of our more banal local acts, because local is not always, simply by virtue of the fact that they're from here, lekker.
And speaking of Ramfest, the wonderful people at TicketBroke don't want to take my money. Do you think the organisers of Ramfest - who are paying a sizable commission for a very important service - would be enamoured with that? I don't think so. I wouldn't be.
So instead of going to sit a million miles away from a band I don't really want to see, or fight with a virtual ticketing machine that refuses to work, I have chosen physical torture. Yes, you guessed it! Tonight Commander Conker takes me - kicking and screaming - up my beloved mountain. Well until the air is permanently expunged from my collapsed lungs and I cry the rest of the hellish journey. And Mr Cheerful Chops is having a good chuckle at my expense.
Besides, I have my own failed music career over which to fret. (Ha! I'm an alleged guitarist - see what I did there?) I don't have time for the has-beens and the never-will-bes. I'm trying to be a somebody, damnit!
Here's someone who's most certainly a somebody.
NGDG: When BMTH tour I'll upload one hundred blurry photos. Seems to be the done thing.
Spread The Love. "Preeeeee-mature Ejaculaaaaaa-tion!"