Wednesday, September 07, 2005

I just had somebody reply to my wee rant about Bush that called me a “gloating euro-leftie”. I was speechless for a few seconds then replied. Never realised that I could pass myself off as such a beast, maybe a career in identity theft beckons? Or maybe not. Sometimes US friends apologise for their president but they don’t need to. He’s not their fault. Like Blair isn’t mine. The blame culture is in full swing and that’s what’s wrong with our countries'. The finger pointing, the need to apportion the albatross of “It wis him/her mister/missus” clouds everything. I think the people at the coal face should be helped irrespective of who fucked up at this point. Having said that, that little smirking goon just constantly acts out in "That's My Bush" style. Are Trey and Matt directing him. He can't look sincere as far as I can tell. What happened to that show anyway? Why hasn't it come out on DVD?? Let me bask in my "authority" willya? When faced with pish like that, I wonder to myself - what is the point?

The South of the place they call North America has taken a bit of a pasting this past week or so. First its cultural capital is practically wiped off the face of this sorry earth and then The Dukes of Hazzard movie came out. Daisy Duke was never a skank like that Jessica Simpson? – Discuss. Anyway, that section of the country has gotta rise again and with representatives like The Drive By Truckers then they’re in with a shout.

Monday nights’ packed to the rafters show at King Tut’s in Glasgow was evidence of a combo on the upward trajectory. Even when the sound took a turn for the hairy, the sheer power of their ouvre came in loud and clear. They made the very mature audience very happy and it’s unfortunate that the auld Glasgow Apollo can’t be rebuilt to host the next time they breeze though these parts. Though it harks back to a specific niche, the delivery never comes across as being dated. It’s a testament to their sickness that it transcends parody to become a moonshine-embattled enclave in this world of shite we have to tholl. Like the Mike Rep and George Brigman sounds, the honesty of their toil shines like a stream of bat’s piss. No crappy support bands, just two hours plus of what people paid to see, it stretched my attention span a wee bit but I wonder if that concept could catch on? Mr Spence commented on the way out that it was “a bit Jon Cougar Mellencamp” . Ah, these spirited young punk rockers…

The winner of the Mercury Music Prize was the indescribably awful Antony and the Johnsons, sheep will now score said album and wonder WHY? Dinosaur Mahaffey will be sharpening his literary pitchfork when he finds outs about this methinks…

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