Is it better to burn out than to find Jesus and excel at Golf alongside Pat Boone?
Those of us that on some subconscious level bought into the myth that I just misappropriated might be familiar with how glamorously masturbatory it can be to corkscrew oneself into the woodwork every night. But after a few years, as the herculean resilience of your youth begins to desert you, your early thirties turn into a nightmarish rapidfire montage of deeply regrettable bouts of bald-eyed sleep deprivation and burgeoning psychosis. Shredded nerves from screams piercing the wee small hours and shit smeared walls begin to take their toll and you find yourself rocking in a corner questioning who the hell you are. Then eventually the kid gets old enough to go to school and things sort of work themselves out.
This is a preview of
The Joup Friday Album: Alice Cooper ‘From The Inside’
. Read the full post (625 words, 7 images, estimated 2:30 mins reading time)
I’ve had it up to my stress-deforested bonce of the Pixies. I careen this horn-honking, screeching-wheeled hipster-admission headlong into your family’s stationwagon knowing full well how I’m going to come off, because this exhaustion is based on their ever-swelling fanbase. Yeah, that’s right I don’t like them because YOU DO! What galls me about this steady torrent of newb recruitment is actually Frank Black’s consistently overlooked solo back catalogue. This slight against Frank-kind deprives me of as prolific a period as he had when he was a Catholic while he predominantly ignores extracurricular activities and gives priority to lining his already sizeable coffers by being endlessly on the road with David, Joey and cardboard-cutout Kim.
This is a preview of
The Joup Friday Album: Frank Black and the Catholics – S/T
. Read the full post (622 words, 7 images, estimated 2:29 mins reading time)
Looking forward to it snowing this year? No?! Can you pinpoint the exact moment at which your sense of wonder blackened, crumbled and blew away on the breeze? Maybe it was the day you saw Channel 4’s 1982 animated adaptation of Raymond Briggs’ ‘The Snowman’. Every time the subject of snow comes up at this time of year I inevitably end up gnawing on the knuckles of my clenched fist as a means of both plugging my mouth and preventing me from raining a flurry of punches upon those balking at the fact that this astonishing annual phenomenon might prevent them from, wait for it, getting to work.
At 64, nobody needs or feeds Emitt Rhodes, whose legacy is unfairly aswim in comparisons to Mr McCartney. In this age of archeological appreciation for overlooked artists, Emitt Rhodes has come agonisingly close to being paid his long overdues but unfortunately fallen short at every opportunity. From inclusion on the soundtrack to Wes Anderson’s ‘The Royal Tenenbaums’ to being the focus of a documentary dedicated to his unjustified obscurity and aimed at setting the record straight, 5 years have passed since it’s plaudit winning appearances at independent film festivals – the stars periodically align but fail to influence a wave of reappraisal.
I wouldn’t advise that last one, they carry Tuberculosis and must be destroyed on sight. My friend Kurt and I were contorted in hilarity paralysis over the Bass player’s name a couple of years ago when we reminisced about our much berated appreciation of Extreme as 12 year old High School starters, then he bought me their second album which I hadn’t listened to for more than 15 years.
“Nuno, Gary, Pat and Paul.” we’d reluctantly submit in tandem to our chief antagoniser when fervently defending the band, furnishing him with the first names of it’s members at his request, to which he spat back without missing a beat:
“What’s with these homies jacking my appellation?
Why do they got it on their front?”
Those despicable “Geek” T-Shirts… as if ‘jocks’ hadn’t done enough to nerds throughout the ages, they have to re-appropriate their insult and adorn themselves with it, as well as other accoutrements like those clear lensed, thick rimmed glasses. I own a weezer T-shirt. Ain’t no one giving me kudos – ironic or otherwise – for wearing that testimony to social shortcomings.
This is a preview of
The Joup Friday/Saturday Album (by way of an unrequested Joup Confession) weezer: ‘Everything Will Be Alright In The End
. Read the full post (921 words, 7 images, estimated 3:41 mins reading time)