Oh so tired of the bore blands at Glastonblurry

This is a pure indulgent rant about the banality of so-called Indie music.

Before anything else, it’s male dominated and masculinised. On top of that, it’s bland, dull, repetitive and boooooring. I’m so bored of the Indie bore blands… I mean Indie boy bands; of The Arctic Flunkeys, The Boretomatic, and Razorfright. I’m sick of their smug guitar riffs, and shouty lyrics about ‘you’. I’m completely bored with The Plaquestones, The Fillers, and The (should be in) Holloways, and their predictable looks: the scruffy-sometimes-preppy-post-punk skinny arses in jeans with dirty pumps, and shirts with ties and neck-length brown hair with the over-long fringe that brushes to one side.




And I’ve had it up to here with The Spewtons and The Bore-all and their faux-rock-n-roll energy and purely performative, lazy-cos-we’re-being-ironic-innit, machismo on set, as they either swagger drunkenly around the stage, or bounce around, running at each other like lemmings on heat, and droop their shaggy hair and under-fed shoulders over their instruments.




They’re all poor replicas of far classier acts – they’re totally without originality and therefore without any identity, relegated to post-post-punk-post-indie-mostly-floundering non-entities, somehow garnering fans mainly, I think, ‘cos we are informed we like them – we are told we like them – the insistence put behind how good we apparently do think they are – convinces us that if we do not like them we are definitely not cool. Argh!!!



How can anybody go to Glastonblurry and pay good money for the privilege of standing in slime and listening to the dregs of our current music scene as we drag everything that’s been good about alternative music, very literally, through the mud?? If I was going to part with a couple of hundred quid to drive down the road and sleep in a damp tent in a muddy field and share toilets with several thousand randy alcoholics, I’d far rather go see Björk and then go home. Since she possesses more creativity, musicality and true ‘Indie-ness’ in her little luminescently-painted fingernail than any of those over-hyped, over-indulged and under-talented little boys, even if you put them all in a juicer and squeezed every rotting drip of talent out of them… Now that I’d pay to see!






There. Now I feel much better! Normal services will resume…

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