by Nevs Coleman

Fuckin’ Rocks!

Tomorrow, I’m dyeing my hair black. I own many, many pairs of black jeans. The most difficult thing in my life is how I’m going to shift lots and lots of music books. Biographies. Autobiographies. Collections of music journalism. Tell-all tales of backstage. My mind doesn’t work right unless I play gigs on a frequent basis. Yesterday a woman stopped me in a branch of (insert branch of popular sandwich chain here) and asked if she could photograph me because I ‘looked music.’  The day before, a girl I know mocked me for owning slippers because they didn’t seem ‘rock n’ roll’.

I don’t think that my obsession with music is that odd, in that most of us are probably listening to some tune or other as you read these words. It’s a thing that literally alters my thought patterns. The guitarist in our band once asked me after a particularly hopeless gig at a folk show (don’t look at me, I didn’t book it, I just show up and sing), “Why didn’t they like us? We played well, didn’t we?’. My only answer is that if you don’t fancy someone, you don’t. No matter how nice they are (mind you, to me, a good gig is one where at least three people exit in disgust and girls are possessed to write lurid things about us on facebook when promoting our next gig).

The Jesus And Mary Chain make me dye my hair black. It might be sad. It is true. I want to belong to that church that doesn’t exist. I slept a lot of nights with my Walkman running low on batteries and then I’d go and get some more batteries in the middle of the night. All my life I wanted to be somewhere between this:

And this:

And sound like this:

I came to this conclusion a few days ago. All writing about music is almost unnecessary.
If you’re cold, you’re cold, right? There’s nothing you can do about how you’re feeling in that second. You can shift yourself to a heater or put on a scarf to alter your perception, but at that point, you’re cold. Equally, if you’re hot, you are. You can take off some clothing or go near a fridge or something. But your physical reaction is yours, regardless of whether someone else to you has a different idea of the temperature. This is how I feel about music. You can spend weeks, literally, as some tried, telling me that the Smiths aren’t shit. It’s been tried, and then you come up with counter arguments to why they are shit. Lord knows I can deconstruct anything with a few pints and a narky mood in me. But to be honest with you, what  it all sounds like, really, is this:

‘This band turns me on, and you are stupid if they don’t turn you on too.’
‘No, they do not turn me on because they are rubbish, and you are stupid to be turned on by them.’

Repeat. A lot.

Now, I think it’s akin to sex. There are things that turn me on and things that don’t.  The good stuff actually lifts me up, makes me more…MORE. Electric currents spark up my arms. Makes me drink, makes me want to exist in an orangey glow and hope that the last day of my life looks like ‘Rainy Night in Soho’. Okay, I’ll admit, been caught out a few times. Drawn in by pretty pictures and interesting articles, but in the cold light of the morning…

After the right combination of drinks and the right tunes, you can be seduced into a lot of things you might not the next morning. Cause THAT’S the litmus test. When you wake up and you got moss on your teeth, the smell of dry sweat on your armpits, the make-up smudged and the hair a mess. Do you want to fuck THEN? Cause if you don’t, it’s not going to work. So many phone numbers deleted. So many cds sold for pennies down the Record and Tape Exchange…
No academic argument, no matter how well structured, is going to make me fancy a fat hairy bloke. It just won’t. Does nothing for me. All you can really do is present a picture or upload a youtube piece and hope. You can make people aware of things. That’s it.

But you can’t make me fancy a hairy bloke. No matter how many syllables you use.

To me, this:

Is akin to this;

Practice safe music, and turn up your shagging..

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One response

  1. Nevs, we adore you anyway, but thanks for the mention ^_^
    And I thought you didn’t like my lurid plug for the orfs?

    Heart You :-X

    March 3, 2010 at 13:35

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