Monday, February 10, 2014


Hi. How was your weekend? I was in a car accident, but don't worry, I'm fine. Better than the Cape Cobras, at any rate... And my beloved Man Utd... Speaking of franchises that are bombing.

Create a sustainable demand. Or ensure that one exists before over investing in something on a romantic notion. And even then, if you choose to sink your money into something that isn't viable, do not lament your ill fortune by surreptitiously blaming that very lack of demand.
Musicians are the only people allowed to waste their money in pursuit of dreams that can never be...
Perhaps the regrettable business decision should have been made in the beginning.

And AS I say all that, another one bites the dust! The demise of Dead Lucky has just been announced. The small part of me that isn't dumbfounded and grief stricken secretly hopes it's a particularly poor prank or publicity stunt. So much so, that I will gladly eat some worms if it is indeed a hoax. But sadly the overwhelming feeling I get is that of profound loss. They were hands down the best thing to happen to local music in the last year. In fact I'll go so far as to declare their debut album 'Sons Of Lazarus' the best release of the year hands down. I have no idea why they have decided to call it a day. Perhaps internal ructions made working together unbearable, but their brand of low-down, mean and dirty pure fuckin' rock'n'roll thuggery will live on in my broken heart...

First Th'Damned Crows. Then Sabretooth. Now Dead Lucky. What's next? When will this madness end? What fucking travesty can befall us next? The Parlotones decide to move back? God help us.

Ok, this post started out with me trying to make a valid, reasoned point regarding business, in particular the entertainment business, and ended up with me making wailey-wailey, tears running muddy rivers down my soot stained cheeks. But it goes quite some distance to proving that no matter how hard we try, no matter how good our intentions, sometimes certain shit just cannot be avoided. My advice? Stay as far from the splatter zone in front of the fan as you can. And accept that true art comes at a loss.

And on that rather glum note, I have an entire afternoon of grimy rock to engross myself in, so if you'll excuse me...
Then I have the Banshee Brigade over later for dinner. Dead Lucky will be drowning out their shrill shrieks and red wine will be dulling my insurmountable grief.

NGDG: Remember when retarded people started liking the Matrix and you were forced to deny your initial enthusiasm to dissuade the misfits from befriending you? I feel that I need to shave my beard now.

Spread The Love. Hug A Local Muso...

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