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In a strange way, whenever you listen to Malibu you’re always a little disappointed…

I met up with an old friend recently who I’ve not seen for literally a donkey’s years

who I obviously won’t name, because even if the chance of him reading this are slim I’m a great believer in data protection, so let’s just call him ‘J Theakston’…
No, that’s too obvious, let’s call him ‘Jamie T’…
No, not that Jamie T, who did one amazing song ten years ago and is still crapping out songs not fit to lick the sweat off Sheila’s boots to this day, a different Jamie T

When The Bloc Heads first arrived ‘on the scene’

they were immediate and absolute masters of the type of trojan horse experimental and idiosyncratic pop music that forces me into a trance like state as I rub my nipples and moan orgasmically yet always entirely rhythmically

Don’t you hate it when people ask you what ‘kind of music’ you like?
It’s awful to think that some people (most people??) only like a certain genre or style, which the question covertly supports

Be very wary of people who quickly answer the question with a definitive variety of music, increasing your wariness exponentially the more specific the genre they name. If they say they like ‘dance’, ‘classical’ or ‘indie’ music, then they are merely extremely boring people who only really interact with music when they want to escape all ties to consciousness, relax in their study while planning further expansions of their plantation, or just want to really magnify their dullness, respectively
However, if they get more detailed, and say they only like metal music made by Brummies without the full collection of fingers, or rock music containing no more than three chords made by two men in denim jackets with mullets, or by a band from Glastonbury with a strongly simian frontman singing songs about touching things, then they’re absolutely thinking of a specific artist and a specific time when they first heard their music and are cursed to spend the rest of their life searching in vain for that specific moment in their life when they were last happy

Oh! It’s MIA backwards! I’ve literally only just got that
+8

Hey ladies, hey fellas (you know you’re doing good because they’re jealous)

I’m afraid I’ve got some bad news: Mildred Ingrid Addison, whom you all may know as MIA, once one of the most exciting, ingenious, influential and visionary artists making music, is now around 86% ridiculous
Goodness gracious, children, do you know what this is?
Do you? Do you know?


Well, I’m about to tell you
Dow-dow-BOOF! Dow-dow-BOOF!
DEEEEE-DE-EEEEEEE-RAAAAAANG, dom, dom, dom!

Bow! Bow! BOW! Bow! Bow! Bow! BOW! Bow! De-ner-ner, der-ner-ner, der-ner-ner!



I used to hate the cover of ‘Princess’, I used to think it looked cheap, sordid and…
…
…
…this isn’t working, the picture’s too far up the page, I want it to be right on top of the writing as I’m dissecting it, y’know?

As far as I can tell

Drake is looked upon as something of a joke in some quarters, chiefly because he often sings about his emotions and feelings and other pussy wet shit like that

Yeah, that joke is so subtle I’m not even sure it’s there