Calling Dr Rock!

Woke up early awoken by my cat Holly gently clawing my face! Swearing and feeding ensued along with the realisation I still ached from Saturday night and worse than this the crap music that they were playing at Sandanestas was still echoing through my brain. The Streets , arrrghh! Franz Ferdinand, please god no! The Kaiser Chiefs, just say no to limp wristed indie gitar bollocks.

Temporarily brushed this aside by doing my morning Chi kung exercises, and while they nicely woke me up and started to sedate the pain I was resolved to a day of dull aches and poor temper. “Oh well these things will happen if you drink your shoe size in pints at the weekend” I thought morosely

Then an amazing thing happened. I brought my mp3 player back from the dead, by the simple act of feeding it a battery, and I causally put on the headphones the thump, crash bang whoop fish of System of a Down streaming through them. Suddenly energy and vitality started to return. Fast forward to a couple of tracks by britnoisemongers of yesteryear, Fudge Tunnel and Godflesh, and I was skipping round the room which was becoming more luminous by the moment. “Eh calm down lad, less giddy like, got to go to work” I thought as I quickly shaved before setting off.

On the train noise was the order of the day, with Strapping Young Lad’s latest Alien being enjoyed, a couple of tracks of the The Damned’s Machine Gun Ettiqutte all topped off with about 15 minutes of pure quality from keefybabe’s “Widnes Years”.

Feeling completely 110% now. I’m off to Vinyl Exchange (second hand record shop on Oldham Road in Manchester) this lunch to get me some Godflesh and/or Fudge Tunnel.

As the Damned once said “Noise is for heroes, we’ve got music for zeroes” Too effing right!

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