love is all

I saw countless bands on Saturday. Countless. But to speak of, there is Love Is All.

They are, of course, from Sweden, and they are a little like the Go-Team with less rap, less samplers, less tracksuits, and more of everything else including mad sax skills. They played in some kind of tent in some kind of an attic in what felt like some kind of a basement, off a dark alley in hackney. I think Nathan Barley and a hundred of his children were there, dressed as wurzel gummidge. Their attempts to pen my brother and I between trendy-haired grumpy people scowling at anyone that moved and slightly less trendy-haired drunken giants gallumphing around violently were to no avail. We bounced around anyway, enjoyed our £5 bottles of Heineken and listened to glorious swedish pop. Listen to spinning and scratching, from Rough Trade’s Indiepop compilation. I know I have used the phrase ‘mad sax skills’ to describe this band, but this isn’t ska. Do not be alarmed. This is frantic Swedish dance-pop made by people who can play their instruments and can play brass without pretending they are stuck to the floor by a spring. Which reminds me Jens Lekman is currently touring with the Bill Wells trio, playing a bass with a drummer, a brass section and bill wells on keys. It’s just what we all need.

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All I do now is dick around

I got up this morning rather early, and all of a sudden I was listening to the new Sparks track! It’s brilliant. get Dick Around free on the midheaven mailorder mp3 sampler. In one sense it’s the replacement for Bohemian Rapsody everyone has been dying for so they never have to listen to queen again. But it’s much better than that. Like many great lyrics, they look rather pathetic written down.

I don’t care

what you do

i’ll dick around

next to you

An interesting position to take, but not really a philosophy you would want the leader of your country to follow. So why the hell did Mr Kurt Walker of Deal, Kent, get fined £80 for saying fuck all?. Yes, he had the temerity to answer his friend’s profanity-free question of “What have you been up to, mate?” with the dangerous and subversive reply of “Fuck all, mate.” Fair enough, I thought at first, we can’t have people saying that to the queen (who has a wee castle in neighbouring Walmer to keep her cannon collection in) but she was nowhere nearby! The poor kid was overheard by some pig who has such an alarming capacity for gross misjudgement that she thought that reverend blair’s 2003 RESPECT agenda was a real law and not just a Daily Mail centre-fold.

You can imagine my relief. Finally, the gratuitous and offensive manner of speech abused by millions of people daily can be consigned to history. I myself must even admit to occasionally abandoning my composure in the face of peer pressure and exclaiming “Buggeration!’ when stubbing my toe in public. What a delight it shall be to know that anyone using such vulgar language will recieve the punishment they deserve. I only hope that the powers that be have thought this one through. I have taken the trouble of compiling a four-point plan to ensure that all profanities are banished from our fair isle by christmas. To wit:

1. Television must be brought under control. The night before I heard the joyous news of Mr Walker’s publich shaming I had the displeasure of watching Channel 4’s Shameless. While admittedly a heartbreakingly accurate portroyal of the bleak life on a Manchester council estate*, my viewing pleasure was obliterated by such phrases as “you f-ing** James Blunt***’. How are the public to extend their vocabulary when such filth is shoved down their necks? If not my own family, then certainly the great unwashed shall become deeply confused. Whilst everyone will surely be sensible enough to keep their mouths clean in daylight, there is the danger of an unofficial watershed developing where people think they can abuse our language on the streets as soon as it turns 9pm. And while any sensible parent will have their children under lock and key, sometimes mine escape.
2. Now anyone who has met my parents will testify I am about as far away from a dissident as it gets, but shouldn’t clean and clear speech start at home? If our own Reverend Blair permits himself to comment on the sexual proficiency of our brothers and sisters of the daffodyl, is this not likely to inspire a rash of ‘copycat profanities’. Sources close to David Cameron’s brat offspring have coaxed them onto the record with sweeties to declare their dear father muttered “those yankee pigfuckers”when no-one turned up to their Washington press conference. Where will it end? How can our nation sleep at night until Rev Blair has publicly gagged his potty mouth?
3. An £80 fine for abuse of our nation’s innocent air molecules is all very well for the toerags in Deal, but is it really going to stop the aristocracy mouthing off their esoteric vulgarities whenever they wish? Balderdash. Should the fine not be related to income?
4. Bang up repeat offenders. For life. Some people just have no respect. How are we going to fulfill this nation’s great dream of quietly and purposefully hanging on to as much money as possible whilst offending, upsetting or getting noticed by nobody whatsoever if speech terrorists are out on the street opening their mouths with no regard for public safety? Fuck em. Fuck em hard.

*I myself have a time-share in Oldham, I spend five minutes a week there to ‘keep it real’.
**original phrase abbrievated for the sake of decency
***he’s a CUNT, innit.

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