for old fuckers like myself, a wonderful evening of feeling old with old punks being old and drinking pimms and spitting it at the
Happens to us all. Keep buying the tickets
stage. That’s right Stretch is attending the wonderful Wire in Dubalin…come along too
Sometimes things that are young and beautiful can make you feel old and blue, but that’s why littul ol monkeys like me return to the thingys that make us happy. That’s right old fucking bands.
It’s like when you haven’t seen your best mates for a while and you drift through what you forget is your life and develop weird tendencies, affectations, habits etc.. Then you meet the people who literally experienced most of the stuff you did as a kid. The drink, the drugs, football, death, girls, more drugs, ska, absinthe, smashed windows, smashed hedges, smashed mates, the awful Saturday nights in the pub wishing you were somewhere else, the awful Sunday afternoons in the pub watching football wishing you were somewhere else The endless days playing football, sitting on that fucking wall smoking endless cigarettes talking shite, telling each other the personal shit that is killing you as a teen. Getting slagged, slagging back, fighting. Watching girls, talking about girls, meeting girls, fucking it up. Wearing a RIDE t-shirt and getting fed up as the girls think you are the vainest person in the Willage, and you wondering if you’ll meet anyone who listens to shoegazing music, coz all the girls here listen to Garth Brooks and whatever the local NiteKlub tells them to.
A whole littul society of yourselves. You meet them now and the saw, “Alright dickhead?” “Alright ya puke?” “Fuck off Nazi!” until you end up having conversations about babies and mortgages and taxes and you look at each other for some kind of recognition and maybe it’s not there. It’s all very sedate and understanding, and you wonder have you gone completely nuts, because that’s the way you feel most of the time anyway. Then after a couple of drinks at a party and the people who are blow-ins start to stare and wonder what the hell your little society is talking about. You get more and more and more and more and more surreal. The drinks get thrown back, the hugging begins, the jumping on things, the memories flood in, the unresolved things from the past get dredged up. “Ja remember, ye prick?”
The people at the party slowly start to leave as you turn into whirling dervishes, being levelled by the actions of the others and things get knocked over and the drink turns hard and the music goes on, the fight over the music begins. Selecter…Anthrax….fucking Aslan….Luke Kelly…Pavement…Wire. Insisting on reduction of sound meets with smirks, the brains are fried now and there’s no stopping and now things get energetic and kinda violent and something gets broken, recrimination for a minute then falling around laughing and more drink and tired eyes and realisation that no matter who you meet in life, these fucking morons will always be available for embarrassment levels unknown before.
THEN SOMETHING GETS FUCKING SMASHED!
A rake of stuff from the new album Red Barked Tree and other stuff too as a treat. What a great band, totally underrated.
this from the last more noisey album, Send
here they are back in 1979