Of course, everybody is entitled to their opinion but sometimes that angle is just plain wrong. That intrinsic right, in such an instance should be vetoed. Take for instance the somnabulist journalism involved with a swathe of the bozos who have reviewed Amy Allison's new album. One gimp had the audacity to suggest that Catatonica's singer's chalk-board screech was bearable and Amy's unique style wasn't. Leaving the voice aspect to the side for a cotton-pickin' minute, there is NOTHING vaguely listenable about said singer or combo AT ALL. When I come into contact with them, I switch the appliance that is foisting 'em upon me OFF. Leave it for 3 minutes and turn it back on again (sometimes). Anyway, I've sent a note to the cyberpublication that printed said pish, suggesting that the idiot who wrote it be acquainted with the utensil known as the cotton bud.
My faith in just about everything has taken a severe tanking lately. The death rattle of what was once known as the music business is just the tip of a very, what looks like from this position (known as the arse-end), unscaleable iceberg. Still, forward motion must be attempted and that's the direction I intend attempting. It might involve some doubling back. Or a short-cut here and there but I've fucking had it up to here with this holding position. Moving and shaking. Movers and shakers. All trying to pile in to a lifeboat that is going down, down and thrice down.
Somewhere on the flipside, common sense will reign and said idiots will be washed ashore somewhere very far from my line of sight or sense of smell and that's about as upbeat as I can muster at the minute.
Myspace crashed my pc again a wee while ago as I was investigating the Girl Trouble domain. Such occurrances don't buoy the mood.
3 comments:
Who cares what a journalist thinks about Amy Allison? Only the downright idiotic would be swayed by a third person's views. This should not be the case for your discerning readership. Let's take the example of Billy Childish. It beats me how anyone who rolls Bo Diddley, Link Wray and the KinKs into their work doesn't register the vote of the head honcho at NBT. But then again when has life, particular in the case of musical taste, ever been rational?
It's not so much what the journalist thinks Steve and I don't think that I've ever torn into Billy Childish just because I don't register what the fuss is about. There's nothing much in the domain of rational making its presence felt here of late and that is further reflected in the perception that the downright idiotic are in the process of inheriting the earth.
But there are people out here who listen and are listening. You either hear the music or.....you don't.
Post a Comment