“I only fucked you as a joke!” sing the ladies in Seattle’s Childbirth. Ow.
The system is bullshit. The system isn’t about music. The system is about marketing.
A foghorn of a Croydon singing voice, Quality Street-tin drums and curiously deft and layered guitars, almost tripping over themselves in their distorted rush to get to the end.
If a white man advertised for white bassist that would be seen as racist. Well, yeah it would, and they do.
Sleater-Kinney with a sense of humour but no loss of girl-girl power
In music, as in writing, brevity is a virtue. This song is 27 seconds long and it does more in 27 seconds than most bands manage in 27 years.
In summation, he mused, I was comparable to the vacant, mannequin-esque women in Robert Palmer’s video for ‘Addicted To Love’.
This EP was writing while I was in a place of anger. So lyrically it tells the story of my rage mixed with the love of embracing it.
The nastiness, the blackness and bleakness, is a lot of the attraction.
And the call? It’s OK to be you. The freaks, the nerds, the outcasts. The last ones picked, the ones never picked. Fuck! There’s power in that.