the youthful bard of Bardwell Road and his faithful teddy bear

November 29th, 2007

Plunking along the BQE, one cherishes Sir John Bejtman’s* flamboyant call for the destruction of publicly funded shitholes rather than a cheesy epic sonata celebrating their existence. The English have some sort of knack for grand explosions, which probably includes some lame excuse for why their bars still close at 11pm and something about the War of Independence and gunpowder, though I’m in no mood to do any real research about it. That’s why, then, it comes as no surprise that a bomb-worthy megahit comes in the new Kate Nash song about kissing boys and not getting into relationships. Where would-be clusterfucking Americans reach transcendent heights by trampling each other for discounted spatulas, Nash’s bomb eviscerates any kind of real connection by just being a cheesy bitch. And that’s pretty cool.

Kate Nash - Pumpkin Soup
TS Eliot reading Love Song of J Alfred Prufrock

* This link indicates quite nicely why Brits trained at the Oxbridge institutions are the biggest wanks in the world. Read it and see if it makes any fucking sense.

Tags:

Entry Filed under: dance, pop-fuck-electro, rave, spokenword