Stretch-UP on the wild thang
When I was growing up, indie was normal people playing abnormal music.
When I was growing up, indie peoples wore t-shirts an stuff.
When I was growing up, cords; beards; sculpted sideburns; cardigans; hats; silly glasses (apart from Morrissey) and BO were not an alright thing to be involved with.
Suddenly everybody indie looks like they walked off the set of Lord of the fucking Rings.
Everybody looks like they live in one-bedroom flats, each night gathering the downy fluff that falls off their stupid clothes and with the spittle that collects on their beards, they create a self-important nest to sleep in with a large round front door.
Stretch finds that when he attends concerts these days, the furry set make him feel so like committing things like strangulation and clawing.
I was talking about my claws the other day. How I would love to do that again and again and again.
Are the Rolling Stones actually good live? I need to know.
Here’s a live treat from the way back when. Remember! The bassist’s moustache sorta qualifies him for my rage, but I’ll let him away with it coz it’s Husker Du (without the dots).