19 Protomartyr: Relatives in Descent

Father in Distress

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I was never a fan of The Fall. I mean, sure, I didn’t hate them, I didn’t even dislike them: I was quite content with allowing their existence to continue. I once told this to Mark E Smith directly, when I met him while he was rifling through the tip at the end of my road looking for his other sock, which he mistakenly threw out the week before.

He replied as follows:

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and then ran off. I was glad that he appreciated my point of view, though it was always a shame I never got the chance to question him on some of the legitimate issues he brought up with my statement.

I am and always have been (and always will be), of course, aware of what’s hip and groovy. I know how The Fall are one of the most certifiably and officially cool bands to be a fan of. I know how professing your fandom for them immediately bestows upon you a veneer of high culture that automatically makes your opinion of culture far more worthwhile than everyone around you. Upon declaring that you’re a fan of The Fall every wannabe cool man, woman and child in audible proximity will immediately throw off all their clothes and rub their genitals up and down your leg. You are their new God. You are just so freaking coooooool!!

(How angry do you think Stewart Lee must be that Frank Skinner is the other most notable (living) Fall fan? He’s no way near as cool as me!!! Though, Skinner did tell a story about how he was set to interview Mark E Smith for some magazine article. Smith eventually barrelled into the interview three hours after arranged and said “Sorry I’m late, Stewart”. So I guess Lee kinda wins in the end)

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