REVOLUTION REVOLUTION REVOLUTION REVOLUTION
Here I am. Blogger's been arsing about, and I was too busy to update this load of rubbish regularly, so here's a quick entry for no reason at all.
On Friday, whilst I was happy in the haze of a drunken hour, a load of poorly stapled sheets of paper were thrust into my hand. Being as I was too drunk to read, I stuffed it in my pocket and gave no further thought to the matter. The following morning, as I rolled over to the sound of a million tiny pixes dancing on my head, I picked up said poorly stapled sheets of paper.
This fanzine has become somewhat of an inspiration, and the realisation has hit me that they are my NME, and I am the pre-Smiths Morrissey figure. If you don't know who I am, no doubt you believe I have nowhere near as classy a writing style as SPM, but that's cos this computer hurts my brain. Mr Fanzine Man, expect a written manifesto/letter/whatever to arrive on your doorstep sometime soon. I always believed this dirty old town was too small and backwards looking to do anything original, but you have given me some hope. Our musical tastes are irrelevant. The point is something is coming, and I refuse to wallow in apathy any longer. People are sick of bland pop. We may not be a London, NYC or Manchester, but if Seattle, Detroit, Omaha, New Fucking Zealand (I know it's a country, but you get what I mean) can put together movements that are relevant and exciting, I don't see why we can't.
Everyone has their 15 minutes, I think it's time for ours.
Here I am. Blogger's been arsing about, and I was too busy to update this load of rubbish regularly, so here's a quick entry for no reason at all.
On Friday, whilst I was happy in the haze of a drunken hour, a load of poorly stapled sheets of paper were thrust into my hand. Being as I was too drunk to read, I stuffed it in my pocket and gave no further thought to the matter. The following morning, as I rolled over to the sound of a million tiny pixes dancing on my head, I picked up said poorly stapled sheets of paper.
This fanzine has become somewhat of an inspiration, and the realisation has hit me that they are my NME, and I am the pre-Smiths Morrissey figure. If you don't know who I am, no doubt you believe I have nowhere near as classy a writing style as SPM, but that's cos this computer hurts my brain. Mr Fanzine Man, expect a written manifesto/letter/whatever to arrive on your doorstep sometime soon. I always believed this dirty old town was too small and backwards looking to do anything original, but you have given me some hope. Our musical tastes are irrelevant. The point is something is coming, and I refuse to wallow in apathy any longer. People are sick of bland pop. We may not be a London, NYC or Manchester, but if Seattle, Detroit, Omaha, New Fucking Zealand (I know it's a country, but you get what I mean) can put together movements that are relevant and exciting, I don't see why we can't.
Everyone has their 15 minutes, I think it's time for ours.
posted by Matt at
9:40 PM
