Monday, September 2, 2013


Free the puppies?

Unleash the dogs of war! That sort of thing. The new Ramfest line up has been published. Or, at least the international acts that have been booked. So far we are set to be entertained by none other than Killswitch Engage and Trivium. Prepare for the barrage of righteous indignation and people who know better despite their infancy in the industry...

... but hark! What is this?

As the late Karen Carpenter would say: "There's a kind of hush..."

Could it be that the bands have met the variety of criteria necessary to warrant the stamp of approval? Could it be that everyone agrees? Not one meme about it one way or the other yet... It's particularly eerie on FacialBoobs. (Watch now, as soon as I want to post this, one or other vapid vandal will have something to say...) Well if no one else is going to complain about something, then I may as well. Well, not "complain" as such... It's just that I realised the other day that I have lots of opinions on music related subjects and not enough people have been exposed to my particular brand of lascivious logic. So here, something over which to pore while you slurp down lunch:

Music - Art or Industry?

Flogging A Dead Horse - The Music Industry Today

Give You A Gun. Blow Me Away

A Noteworthy Note Of Note

I'm going to write a book one day. Not the great American Novel. I believe Twain beat everyone to it and the current edition would just read "Kill, Fuck, Maim For Oil!" No, I'm going to bring out a literary tome detailing the modern music industry. It will speak of the ups and downs, the ins and outs, and the seedy underbelly of an art form gone wrong. I think I'll call it "Tweetin' And Twerkin' - For Tweenage Twerps".
I know what you're thinking. You're thinking "why on earth is he giving that shit even more undeserved airtime?" Well, it's like this. I am so disheartened and disgusted by the depths to which modern musicians have to sink - in order to get somewhere - that I tend to fixate. Take Die Antwoord. No please! Just take them.
I like to think of myself as somewhat of a purist. I'd take Adele over Allysa Milano any day if it were purely for recording a voice. But then I remember Cristina Scabbia and the world is once more whole. Fuck the Butcher Babies. That's all they're good for. Hannah Montana - you fucking amateur...

Ok, I'm going now. Being ill with the plague is taxing and I need to conserve my strength for at least one or two more barbed responses. Also, there's this pesky work thing.

NGDG: I must be very liberal because the only thing I find disturbing about a girl with a lolling tongue mock-masturbating with a huge foam finger is that she looks eerily like Robin Thicke when he sits down with his crayon to write lyrics.

Spread The Love. Take My Scars.

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