Eish!

It is unwise to criticise the youth.

Specifically if you’re criticising their music. It shows how old you are.

I recall how my own parental units turned up noses and plugged up ears (and unplugged radios) at my music when I lived under their roof. And I was listening to such innocence as Duran Duran, OMD, Big Country and Gerry Rafferty. OK, admittedly I interspersed it with bouts of Halloween, Quiet Riot, G’nR and vintage Metallica but normally when I was hiding at Gerald’s house. The days we’re long, the summers warm, my t-shirts torn and my neck whip-lashed stiff.

I kind of wish someone had criticised me properly, intelligently (with force if necessary) and shown me the Path. I mean, honestly, Big Country? Was that just a phase or did Gerry Rafferty lead me to harder drugs like the Waterboys?

Either way, it’s not wise to criticise the music of the youth for fear of ridicule if nothing else. Unless of course they are listening to utter shite. This is altruistically acceptable. I can name a few:

Read the rest of this entry »

While the home-town blazes, I packed up the belongings in a wet cardboard box and hit the Moederstad underbelly for some Afrikaans cultural stylings.

While Gardens is not exactly the musical epicentre of Cape Town’s indie underground nor the bastion of Afrikanerdom , it is still apparently dom enough to enjoy some mindless post-punk or neo-grunge or alternative rock or whatever the young folk of today are calling it.

I got to attend a music video launch for Van Coke Kartel. I was impressed. There was free Jagermeister.

Read the rest of this entry »