Posts from February 2002
DUEL 2002 — Round 1 Match 4
For the fourth day in a row, the lumpen roar of US nu rock is confronted with the effete preenings of Britain’s dreary alternative elite. And there can’t be many artistic gulfs wider than between today’s contestants, two outfits united only by a general ghastliness — oh, and by being ugly bleeders. With Slipknot, at least, it’s intentional. The crow-huffing showmen of sports metal clearly realized that dressing up as Troma film rejects and calling themselves things like The Shape would distract from the grotesque sludge that passes for Slipknot music. And it might have worked, too — except unfortunately Slipknot gigs don’t come with a volume knob (though 9 other kinds are supplied).
As for Muse – well, we at Freaky Trigger don’t generally approve of the word ‘pretentious’. It may be the longest word most Haven fans know, but it routinely gets hurled at anyone trying to bring a bit of colour, style, imagination or difference into pop. In fact we can scientifically determine that the last time the word was actually applicable was in 1983 with the release of Ultravox’s Rage In Eden. Until, that is, last year’s Muse opus, Origin of Symmetry, an unpleasant farrago of prog chops, bad poetry, and grating art-metal moves fronted by a cross between Edward Scissorhands and the ‘BEFORE’ part of a Clearasil ad.
Yesterday’s Result: DAVID GRAY 53% – Linkin Park 47%
The closest Duel! yet, but still Linkin Park become the first nu-metal band deemed just not quite bad enough to go through to Round 2, and the head-shaking troubadour slips into the last 16. Here’s what you had to say:
‘I can only hope our American voters put aside their visceral – if justified – dislike of nu-metal and back Gray as the worst. Linkin Park are basically a feeble version of Limp Bizkit – they’re bad, but they haven’t single-handedly kicked off a movement of badness the way David Gray has. Burn all his CDs on a colossal bonfire of coffee tables!’
‘If Linkin Log were as big as the Bisquick they’d be just as annoying.’
‘nothing worse than baby faced AOR. And, hell, i even *like* “in the end”‘
‘The hip-hop stations play park. Those must be like the only white dudes they play. Gray wins.’
‘well anyone who was brought to market by d. matthews automatically wins, duh, right? plus i really think ‘in the end’ is a pretty great song and i like the way the singer-guy screeches all phlegmy-like.’
‘Hmmmm….David Gray = yawnfest. He is more boring than the Beautiful South, and more annoying than Star Sailor. Please let him go through to the next round. Please. Please. I’ll be your best friend.’
‘Bad as I’m sure Linkin’ Park are, I don’t have to listen to them every time I go to a cafe or shop of any kind. And they never recorded a whinesome version of Say Hello Wave Goodbye.’
‘David Gray Vs. Tom McCrae. Now that would’ve been a match-up…’
‘finally a worthy battle! gray wins by a hair, those linkins are just too cute.’
‘Linkin Park asserts superiority through nu-metal posturing combined with an inability to spell (see ‘Korn’, ‘Bizkit’, etc.) Mr. David Gray, in contrast, really and truly believes that what he does is Great Art. The man also bears striking resemblance to the Antichrist himself, Mr. Phil Collins. Thus, Gray will inflict his successful songwriting career on us for decades to come; Linkin Park will not. Linkin Park will learn to spell, move to NYC at age 20, form a bad garage-rock band because it gets more girls than nu-metal ever did, and then thankfully fade from existence.’
‘nasty nasty music for accountants and teachers who want to be a bit ‘alternative’ BASTARDS’
1: Have sex.
2: Get up and have a cup of tea.
3: Try and think of a first line. Fail.
4: Notice that your tea has gone cold and frankly you would much rather be back in bed shagging the bloke who has given you that ear to ear (and exceptionally punchable) grin.
5: Write this down and fifteen other banal things that come into your head.
6: Go back to bed for some more sex.
Ker-ching : you are now the richest woman in the country bar the Queen – and frankly since you are posher than the Queen the anti-monarchists will all be baying for your blood anyway. Along with anyone with half a brain.
Just a quick note to anyone this might apply to (and its none of the regulars round here) but if I can hear your voice distinctly while I’m in the toilet – you are talking too loud.
bloated US version of the Brits. Sure the BAFTA’s are the Oscars poor relations – but the Grammy’s look like the dullest thing ever. 101 awards in one night – I’m not even sure how they fit all that in. How many catagories are there too? What is worrying is that with this constant stratification of genre what happens when new one come along. The Grammy’s have it easy – they just invent a new catagory – for U2 to win in. Still can any awards where Alison Krauss, Ravi Shankar, Nelly Furtado and the London Symphony Orchestra win awards be all bad? Damn right it can.
DUEL 2002! Round 1 Match 3
YORE CORRESPONDENT FROM THE FUTURE AKA STARRY SARAH SPEAKS. “A tosspot which came bearing a particularly imbecIlic gimmick of wobbling and twitching his head out of sync to his acoustical guitar, David Gray came to trouble in years which are yet to come to innocent Duel 2002! voters. In 2006, with the advent of the ‘for the sake of little baby Jesus in his little baby ROCKER stop TWITCHING’ Law, David Gray was prosecuted and canned in stinky fish brine and kept as Art by Bubbles the Chimpanzee. Incidentally, Gray’s acoustical guitar was also purchased by Bubbles, and now brings harmony to his bowel movements as a spare ‘comfort station’. His records have been put forward for the good of society to be used in Space Jails to keep prisoners snoring The Sleep Of The Unjust.
I Can Be Your Hero, Baby: After halfheartedly swapping spit with actresses Shannon Elizabeth and Jennifer Love Hewitt on the sets of previous videos, Mr. Enrique Iglesias took another step towards securing his Luckiest Sumbitch crown by invading the intimate personal space of one Anna Kournikova, renowned tennis professional, in the video for his latest single, “Escape”. Jokes involving the words “serve” and “love” shall be stricken from the record. Jokes involving Ms. Kournikova’s status as a professional tennis player, though plentiful, are always encouraged.
Zombie Taps Corgan for Ramone CD: Okay, so now we can add Billy Corgan to the roster of the Ramones tribute album along with Marylin Manson, Static-X, Motorhead, The Offspring, Green Day, The Red Hot Chili Peppers, Rob Zombie and Eddie Vedder. Zombie is still awaiting confirmation from Bruce Springsteen, Joe Strummer and U2.
I don’t know about anyone else, but I think that my aural equivalent of pure, unadulterated hell is just on the verge of realization!
Pete’s being overly harsh about the George (and the Market Porter for that matter). The George is a fabulous-looking pub and serves fine beer. I agree that the service leaves a good deal to be desired when the place is busy, and I’ve never eaten there. But the place is best thought of as a big, moderately touristy, City boozer, and the prices are in line with that, as is the mode of service: they just let you get on with it. That’s no excuse for a lack of attentiveness to customers’ lemon requirements, of course. Notwithstanding the ventilation in the little room we took over, I think it’s surprisingly comfortable: it needs to get very full before there’s nowhere to lounge.
The George is by no means my favourite London pub (in fact, there are several I prefer within quarter of a mile of its HM Prison Slade portals) but it’s a long, long way from a bad boozer. What’s more, it’s unique in being a surviving galleried coaching inn. More important, it’s unusual in that it can accommodate quite large groups of drinkers while remaining usable for others and retaining real character along the way.
Apparently the Brits were an embarrassment. Especially that bit at the end when the old fella did a Half Monty and pranced around the stage. Oh – its Sting who said it was an embarrassment, well I would certainly be embarrassed if I was him. Only click on the link if you have a strong constitution.
There is no need for Sting ever to go to the Brits again anyway. He has won the lifetime achievement award twice now (for The Police and solo) which surely should be read as a big fat hint. You have achieved in your lifetime. Now stop it and leave us all alone.
THE GEORGE – Borough High Street
“Hello: I’m a London pub guide – would you mind if I fawn over you?” An imaginary conversation held twixt The George and every bloody pub guide out there. Why? Well undeniably the George holds many attractions to the writer of the Trad pub guide. It is very old. It has loads of poky rooms, nooks and crannies. It is undeniably popular (though being popular with the rougher type of Millwall fans is not necessarily a plus point). It serves a nice pint of Timothy Taylors Landlord Bitter.
Because someone has to say it. The George has rested on its laurels for too long. Surly and not very good staff greeted me on Saturday night. A big bucket of lemons provided for the spirit drinkers which we constantly had to prompt for. Prices way above average and spills which did not get mopped up. The cosy little room nearest the courtyards entrance had its quaint but quite useless bar window in the cold I had to go to get my rounds in. Said quaint room had no ventilation and even smokers were coughing. Whilst our very large party had dominion over this room we never really felt comfortable – darkness and tight seats prevailed.
The George has been and possibly again will be a very nice pub. But the publog has to dissent from the typical fawning. Yes in the summer the courtyard is nice and crowded, and in the winter it has the cosiness of a very old building. But it feels like all the humanity has been ripped out of the place. Get some good staff in and start thinking about your customers. Or turn into the equally unpleasant Market Porter over the road.