13 Lambrini Girls: Who Let the Dogs Out

The epitome of everything, I’ll tell her how I really feel
She’ll realise that I’m homo for sure
I like your face but not in a gay way
No homo

No Homo

Who! Who who who!!

Heeeeeeeeey, all you Dr. Who fans, that could be a new chant for you! Whenever the new Dr. Who episode about planets having the right to defend themselves (with genocide), or whatever, you could all chant “Who let the dogs out! Dr. Who, who, who, who!”! You can have that. Mind you, I don’t really watch a lot of Dr. Who, but I don’t think dogs feature too heavily in the core plot? Do they still have K9? Is that still a thing? You could maybe try to fit K9 into the song? “Who let Daleks out! Dr. Who, who, who who!”. That kinda works? Listen, it might need a bit of work, but I am officially relinquishing the intellectual property of that chant, so it’s public access now.

You know what mate, you stay the fuck away from me

#58 Riverby: Absolution

Now, as longtime readers (hi Mum! I told you to stop reading, I just can’t have that boring conversation about so called “Disturbing psychosexual imagery” with you yet another time) will no doubt already have noticed, I’m something of a literary genius. Not fully appreciated in my time, no, but neither was Vincent van Gogh. Also, I’m not going around simping over prostitutes so hard that I send them parts of my body that I’ve sliced off. That is so cringe. proper beta behavior, whereas I am obviously an alpha chad. I have lots of the sex and talk to loads of women. Like, all the time.

Anyway, yes, I am a literary genius, and what I’ve done on this year’s list – one hundred percent intentionally!! – is design it so two things that I’ve already been discussing this year finally come together and interweave on my post concerning the second album from Philadelphia ‘punk’ band Riverby.

DO GO ON, BLESS US WITH YOUR INCREDIBLE INTELLECT

#76 Aunt Sally: Aunt Sally

Before we criticise the gross and indefensible spectacle of the 2022 World Cup – where perhaps billions of people around the world tune in to watch a spectacle so polluted by decaying capitalism that hundreds or perhaps thousands of ill treated migrant workers have forcibly sacrificed their lives in order just to provide us global ruling classes our shits and giggles – let’s at least compare the quality of competitive entertainment to what it was a few hundred years ago. The game Aunt Sally dates back to 17th century and was played at fairgrounds in pub gardens across the middle English counties. It involves participants throwing sticks or battens at a ‘doll’ placed upon a pole. Traditionally, that doll is an old woman named ‘Aunt Sally. It has also been suggested that the doll eventually got its name ‘Aunt Sally’ because it was at one point meant to be in blackface and inspired by the character (sigh) Black Sal in the 1821 novel ‘Life in London‘. So, essentially, it was a game where drunk middle Englanders would throw things at an old black woman. But don’t despair at missing out on such good old fashioned competitive hate crimes – the The World Aunt Sally Open Singles Championships takes place every year in Oxfordshire. The first event in 2011 was attended by David fucking Cameron, because of course it was.

“Take this, you little pickaninny…”

An ‘Aunt Sally’ is also what you’d call an easily disprovable fallacy, so maybe I’ve been really clever and nothing I said in the previous paragraph is true and wouldn’t stand up to even the briefest of research. However, I know I’m safe, as none of you fat lazy slobs can ever be arsed to extend even the most minute of effort. It’s also the name of a 1938 film English film, which given those two pieces of information is also likely to be extremely racist. What I’m saying is: it’s not easy to Google the extraordinary 1970s Japanese punk band Aunt Sally.

That Aunt Sally rereleased their 1979 debut album in 2021, and provided more evidence for my reasoning to fucking hate punk music.

BAIT AND SWITCH?? ONLY ONE WAY TO FIND OUT!

Necessary Evil 2021 (70 – 61)

70 Kings of Leon: When You See Yourself

(2016 #104, 2008 #17, 2007 #1!)

I’m allowed to still have Kings of Leon, right? You people will still consent to this? This is still OK, yeah? Nobody’s feeling mistreated in any way? I don’t want this to be one of those things where I was almost sure you were OK to me playing with my gross old man testicles while you watched holding back tears.

Remember that Simply Red song Holding Back the Tears? Well that’s what it was about. Mick Hucknall was so ahead of his time. He was trying to teach us, why did we refuse to learn? What’s that? It was actually called Holding Back the Years?? Well, shucks… Ah well, I’ve written it now.

I’ve done well, haven’t I? I’ve, like, mostly irradiated all the bullshit white guy rock that was honestly the entirety of all music I consumed before the age of about 19. I like to think that my end of year lists, while being a no way near exhaustive list of new music, is at least a forward thinking and progressive exercise in highlighting new and exciting progressions in style and presentation and in many different (and often new) genres. What’s your favourite Turmeric Trancotone album of 2021? Gotta be #26, right?

Continue reading “Necessary Evil 2021 (70 – 61)”

My Life in Albums (part 1 83-96)

Yeah, sorry, no more Bumble Rumble. Possibly… ever…? Listen, I’ve pretty much decided that I hate Zero Hour dating- I happen to still believe that I’m relatively attractive, so to have an app on my phone that frequently reminds me that I’m actually not is not good at all for my already inflated yet easily pricked sense of self-esteem. For now, my official stance is that I know that I’m a highly fuckable piece of hunky man meat who could grind genitals with pretty much any woman he wants, but I just choose not to, OK?? The official stance is that I’ve decided to concentrate on the more important things in my life, such as this blog- which has never been more popular- and my actual job- which I’m technically supposed to be doing now*. Remember this blog? It used to be about music, didn’t it? I mean… kinda… Let’s do that again. Basically, it’s time for:

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Just wanted a photo with my eyes in it. Have they always been that colour? More after the jump!!

Continue reading “My Life in Albums (part 1 83-96)”

78 Lil Yachty: Nuthin’ 2 Prove

 

Longtime readers of this blog (hi, Mum!*) will know I have a bit of an obsession with Lil Yachty. I honestly think he’s a fascinating figure who has the sufficient lack of self-awareness and disregard for the supposed former statesman and accepted tropes of his genre that he could potentially create something very special. His sound is obnoxious, flagrantly disrespectful and nonchalantly artless. But then, I’m a depressingly old white idiot: the sound of 2018 should sound borderline offensive to me! Lil Yachty is 21 years old, he’s already released one stone cold classic song (fight me) and a patchy and imperfect debut album that nonetheless showed flashes of the buoyant/obnoxious/genius/overjoyed style that is all his own and that could see him take over the world before too long, to the fabulous irritation of old farts everywhere. Whether you like it or not, this was evolution and it was frickin’ exciting!

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(*My Mum has far too much self-respect to read my blog. Only people with a base level of pitiful self-respect would ever waste time reading this shit. Yeah, I’m talking about you. Aunty Cheryl, however, loves it! She is, however, a shameless crack cocaine addict and, if I’m being completely honest, has been dead for 12 years next April)

Continue reading “78 Lil Yachty: Nuthin’ 2 Prove”

42 Alicia Keys: HERE

Don’t you hate it when people ask you what ‘kind of music’ you like?

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It’s awful to think that some people (most people??) only like a certain genre or style, which the question covertly supports

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HERE

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

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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

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Continue reading “42 Alicia Keys: HERE”