tiger by Simon Aulman
.
Move along now, nothing to hear here - this is maybe the laziest stupidest worst piece of music ever on Bandcamp. If Mrs Thatcher hadn't disbanded the Music Police during the 80s I'd probably be arrested for this crap. But because I think it's bollocks probably means that "lots" of people will think it's brilliant - it's the way life is - and I really feel this is bad enough to be my breakthrough album. I could handle the fame.
I could do the interviews. I'd be quite good. One of the very few musos with something to say. I could do the collabs. After all, what else is there to do all day ? I could do the gigs. The car's a bit crap and the screw-top to the placky water tank thing that fills the radiator lets out a steady jet of steam but so long as the car keeps moving it doesn't overheat.
And when the dipsters who only latch onto music when the muso has stopped making his/her good stuff latch onto me I'll happily keep them sweet with further doses of similar lazy shite. I still look okay for my age and could handle the Pop Star world better than I handle the No Mark Music world of sour zerosyllabic self-conscious miserable twats. I'd look good in photos with a leggy legging'd camel-toe'd twenty-something pumping up the front of my Bermudas in LA.
Ladies where were you when I was young and scintillating and talented and virile - but no worries, I'm this much closer to death now and two years of my company before my heart pops it and I pass the pop millions on to you is a small price to pay. The photo was taken this sunny Monday morning among our acres of Himalayan Balsam at the bottom of the garden.
The local Eco-nazis want to remove every foreign invasive plant and they're particularly anti the Himalayan B. They're plant racists. Himalayan Balsam is tall and colourful and clean and beautiful and exciting - it has flowers a bit like a foxglove - and when they go all seedy they also go all explosive - you brush past them and they literally go POP and shoot their seeds out yards in all directions. If the Himalayan B wasn't there there'd just be the usual nettles and dock. Boring. It's a weird county.
On the pavements we have the sexy slim intelligent charming Eastern Europeans upping our gene pool but old Cameron wants them all gassed and leaving space for the indigenous native Brit scowling and fat and inbred and ugly and stupid and this is the sad audience this bad music is sadly aimed at.
.
