Really, someone who’s written a blog posting about triple j, complaining about the fact that we’re trying to monopolise Australian music, really doesn’t keep me up at night. I really don’t worry about it.
I have a new slogan for the corporation: Triple J. Setting music back for a new generation
Kimbra. She’s like Lykke Li, only really fucking perky.
The best bands, the true greats, created their work because they had to.
Is there anyone out there brave enough to stand up and admit something’s wrong – and do something about it?
Shouldn’t the triple j slogan be “We love music (made by men)”?
Pop music that shits all over the tired, tepid male rock posturing of the other nine videos from a wonderfully giddy height.
Maybe Brisbane acts are less careerist than their southern counterparts, playing for fun rather than playing the game and trying to move towards world domination.
As I watched you play, Stonefield, I took in the crowd around me. Toward the front – up against the barrier – were groups of males in their 20s and 30s, beers in hand, cheering and leering at you. You probably noticed them.
I was going to focus my article on examining the way language is used to present women in the street press. Until I encountered a problem. There are none!