Saturday, March 27, 2004
I don't generally read music blogs. I can't see the point in reading half assed reviews of obscure stateside indie bands whose music I'll never actually hear. However I should like to promote Alice and the Enemies, as a band worth getting to know. They played the legendary Dublin Castle last night. Alice, as ever the queen of re-invention, was dressed as a Shirley Manson meets Lauren Laverne rock-minx. Armed with only a microphone, two guitars, and a drum kit, The Enemies slayed the Castle crowd. I won't tire your cliche-o-meter trying to compare them to other bands (Neds Atomic Dustbin on crack, Half-man Half-biscuit on ketamine etc etc), suffice it to say, they take the female vocal pop-punk sound and make in fresh and invigorating. CD available now from no reputable retailers, but I'll pass on your order if you email me.
The Independent published a piece today on the "50 best trainers". Their naive choices had me practically choking back tears of rage. One particular recommendation stood out:
"The Mostro, long established as a favourite of the style set, also makes it easy for men wishing to meet the lounge shoe challenge."
Reading that filled me with such dismay, I almost vomited blood across WH Smith's. No shoe exemplifies girl chav-dom more than the Mostro. (Well maybe pastel Reebok Classics). No shoe could possibly look worse on a man. Not only is it ugly prole shoe, but it's uncomfortable and has a stupid fastening system that gives Velcro™ a bad name. That anyone could put this shoe in a top 50 defies belief (except in the penetration of PR firms of UK journalism), but then to claim this as an ideal "lounge shoe", beloved of the mythical "style set". The only "lounge" this shoe should be seen in, is the kind your mother ought to have taught you to call a "drawing room".
The Independent published a piece today on the "50 best trainers". Their naive choices had me practically choking back tears of rage. One particular recommendation stood out:
"The Mostro, long established as a favourite of the style set, also makes it easy for men wishing to meet the lounge shoe challenge."
Reading that filled me with such dismay, I almost vomited blood across WH Smith's. No shoe exemplifies girl chav-dom more than the Mostro. (Well maybe pastel Reebok Classics). No shoe could possibly look worse on a man. Not only is it ugly prole shoe, but it's uncomfortable and has a stupid fastening system that gives Velcro™ a bad name. That anyone could put this shoe in a top 50 defies belief (except in the penetration of PR firms of UK journalism), but then to claim this as an ideal "lounge shoe", beloved of the mythical "style set". The only "lounge" this shoe should be seen in, is the kind your mother ought to have taught you to call a "drawing room".
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