frank sidebottom feat. little frank – electricity (1988)
hilarious, sublime and quite unexpectedly beautiful. just flamin electric is this….fantastic stuff!
remember to pay your leccy bill folks!
…you know it is… it really is!
outlier contrarian postpunkprolepoet group dictator shambling frontman decaying philosopher pubdweller belligerent anti fashion non career career non musician of supreme attitude withering contempt of everything/nothing disciplinarian trend averse can fan beefheart boy iggy pop slurred secretive uncanny caustic mystic documentarian quasi almost pop star lysergic leader reluctant influencer prolific purposeful caustic working class wit drunk speed merchant violent velvets repetitive gnarled ex-schoolteacher dipped in spirits wheelchair bound ranting prophet raging rockabilly mocking coughing stubborn strange curator orator preacher threatening worshipful disdainful repetitive rock pinprick twat genius chaos channeling mundane rumble and rant discordant ordinary madman psychic groove grabber outsider forever pain in the arse broken down conductor comedian dole queue dancer chancer rebel writer autodidact artrock maverick mancunian
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tofillthatblackholewithdagodzoflustfooddrinksexselfloathingenymusicmoviesvolunteerescapelearningdropouttunawayreturnsound = learn how to breathe, accept what you ( and other) are good bad indifferent??!! Continue reading
the fall -hark the herald angels sing
its those feckin carol singers again maggie…will i answer the door or just ignore the feckers?
just ignore them sean….they’ll only want money…probably spendin on drink or drugs the thievin bastards…charity me hole…
yeah, they do that every year dont they? never learn…bit wait, hang on a minute maggie…i think i see…no, it can’t be! mancunian alternative rock icon Mark E Smith singing Hark the Herald Angels Sing!!!
‘get out the fuck sean…can’t be…let me see…jesus christ on a stick…you’re right? that’s him! what’s he doing singing carols with a bunch of bumfluff pudge merchants?’
‘its a mystery to me mags…shouldn’t he be putting the finishing touches to his 547th The Fall album, firing incompetent band members or giving drunken dyspeptic interviews with a naive music journo at the local boozer?’
‘fuck! tis a christmas miracle sean….get me purse…maybe we can get him to sing the title track of the falls 1991 album Shift Work?’
‘good thinkin maggie…how much do you think we should give him?’
‘ah, a fiver should do it…if he asks for more than that, he can ponce off to his indie rock pals…
*twas the night before christmas, and not a creature was stirring except for those human ones who like to get pissed on this festive eve then go home and take out their frustration on their families or those who shop like like a mad bastard in the vain hope it will fill up the hole in their tiny little souls…
it’s all about the kids innit? well, hang on a minute there frank…
who the fuck is frank?…
oh, sorry….what the fuck is your name anyway? (glasses him with festive pint of fosters)
you don’t even have kids ya wanker!….(to the rest of the shocked and silenced crowd gathered in the local alcohol dispensary)
‘frank’ lies on the ground moaning and bleeding…
look at you now….can kids do this on christmas eve ya prick? (kicks him in the stomach)
this is christmas for adults!!! put on some fuckin tunes now!!! ( shouting to no one in particular)
the barman with a santa hat drooping off his bald potato head is cleaning glasses, responds stonefaced…
the band is on soon terry, calm down….
the fuckin band? playin poxy christmas shite for the little children….ha! fuck that shite! get up frank ya cock!
‘frank’ slowly staggers to his feet.. two women dressed in elf and santa gear help him to his feet. they look suspiciously glamorous in this setting.
sheepish families begin to scuttle out of the bar, dragging their whining kids along with them and out onto the cold street outside
‘yeah, thats right…get da fuck…happy christmas ya bastards…santa says it’s time to…..fuck off!!! another pint and a whiskey….lets get this going!
‘havent ya had enough terry?’
terry eyeballs him for several minutes that feel like an eternity whilst the band enter the estabishment and begin to set up their gear on the small stage beside the main bar.
go home terry…
go home to what? me wife fecked off on me…dont have any kids…me cat loathes my very fuckin being the little furry shitbag…and me dog committed suicide last week…
he didnt commit suicide terry…yer man over there knocked him down in his car remember? it was an accident mind…
who knocked him down? ah frank? so thats why i was beating the living shite out of him….ive only had a few today…
(a loud voice booms through the PA from the stage)
five pints, three whiskeys, two gins, two rums and a poncy cocktail actually…
what the eff, me ears…and whats it to you music man?
nothing mate, just there are other ways to enjoy the holidays…
what you need is a good woman…
pfff…oh right, i shall go and fucking get five for a euro at lidl will I? who is this wannabe rock star fuck?
for christmas time, get yourself something fine, dressed in red at the bottom of your bed….
a guitar riff and drum beat start up…
what you need, what you want is a….
1…2…1..2….3…4…..yeeeeaaaahhhhhhhhh!!!!! ( a piercing howl that could shatter several snowmen emanates from the gob of the bands frontman)
terry explodes, franks recedes….heads go bang!!!
ac/dc – mistress for christmas (1990)
*this true story may seem like horseshit but in fact did happen at some point in time, the misanthropic tone and veering into drunken violent fantasy an accurate depiction of certain type of white male, not so privileged but still a complete twat when alcohol is around.
Dream Academy – Life in a Northern town (1986)
Written as an elegy to the tragic and influential late folk musician Nick Drake (1948-1974), Life in a Northern Town was a UK and US hit back in 1986 for UK pop trio Dream Academy and one later sampled to much success and aural irritation by club DJ trio Dario G for their 1997 European smash ‘Sunchyme’.
the horrors =- something to remember me by (2017)
the dream syndicate – glide (2017)
male gaze – tell me how it is (2017)
as time twirls and hurtles through dimensions, alighting the cosmos with dying fireworks, all i know is that i know nothing….