Those Frenchies, eh? When they’re not surrendering to invading forces and eating cheese, they’re sitting in cafes on the left bank of the Seine mumbling about existential torment. And when they’re not doing those things, they’re waggling their frilly knickered bottoms about here and there or being all cultured about the highbrow arts whilst sticking…
Tag: Moggy
Ill-Advised Rocking Out #3: Does Your Mother Know? ABBA.
Sometimes it seems like the world can’t make up its mind about what to do with ABBA. At least, there’s no consensus. From kitsch, Scandinavian eurotrash to teutonic laser guided Stormtroopers of melancholy, the opinions differ widely. I appreciate that even with things like The Beatles, you get some attention seekers who pretend that they’re…
Unsigned, Peeled, Bequivered. A Small Story Of A Local Band: Part 2.
The timing of The Drummer’s sacking and the recruitment of Moggy was what you might call ordinary. We’d been working towards a date at the end of Hull university’s academic year when they had a festival planned. Demos were being taken in by the organisers in order to establish the lineup and running order…
Unsigned, Peeled, Bequivered – A Small Story Of A Local Band – Part 1.
This is the the story of the last real band I was in. I say ‘real’ band because since then I’ve played here and there with bands who play covers at weddings, bar mitzvahs, birthdays and what have you but I don’t consider those to be real bands. Real bands write their own songs and,…
Dave: A Prayer. Or, The Tragedy Of (Steven) King Fear.
This post is about the best friend I ever had. That and fear. We’re not mates anymore because he doesn’t want to know and I don’t really blame him. It’s also about the usual sorts of things I write about: being confused; being stupid; not knowing how to put things right; not knowing how…
