Her trawlin’ days are long gone – Blakeney, England
Smansmith has apologised for his recent lack of posting with a comprehensive covers post. No need to apologise S, every now and then we’re forced to deal with our real lives, but gosh darn it, don’t you wish sometimes they’d leave us the hell alone so we were free to wallow in our introverted antisocial online existence?!
Tart had a good ol’ rant last week about Ticketmaster and the US economy or some such nonsense – I don’t really have any idea what she was going on about actually, I was too busy checking out the placating picture of the white singlet wearing Johnny Depp to pay too much attention.
I don’t know a lot about 90’s Britpop to be honest, mainly because I was a kid in the 90’s, but for those of you who’d like to tiptoe back down memory lane, or for those of you who are just as ignorant as I am, head over to Muzzle Of Bees to check out Cool Britannia: The Birth & Death of Britpop In The 90s.
Captains Dead posted a live Prince gig from 1981 last week. Not being an expert on Prince, I don’t recognise a single one of these songs…but then I wasn’t even born then so that might have something to do with it.
Are you tired of these digs yet, those of you whose age is slightly greater than my own 26 years?
It’s ok, I’ll be old one day too.
But by then you’ll be dead.
I’m sorry. I’m sitting on the deck as I write this and it’s 21 degrees here today – I even got sunburnt on the weekend (yes it was warm, but I also have red hair, pale skin and, clearly, a monumental lack of self-preservation). This week has been the first time all winter I’ve been warm without the aid of a heater or a hot water bottle or a 5 kilometre jog or a shirtload of whiskey. I think all this sun has gone to my head.