So you’ve listened to the mix and you noticed a track that stuck out a little bit? Yeah you did and its Cum Sucking Whore. Cold Stone Wins by Misericordiam. Its time to introduce the man who put that song in there, our resident writer Joe!
Some say… that he has an active hatred of anything pretentious, Indie or otherwise mediocre, poorly produced rubbish and that, if he had a time machine, he would travel back to being fourteen again because everything was like totally awesome then.
Bio: Male, 22, currently looking for work and in his spare time looking after his cat. D’awwww.
Music: Metal, Metal and more Metal. Joe has also been moving across into Wigga Slam. Aside from this, thanks to the traumatic daily struggle that is living in Manchester, Joe has fallen in love with Rap. Listening to some sick beats whilst riding his bmx, all his neighbours see him cruising around Longsight sporting the latest wigga gear. They see him rollin’, they hatin’.
Generic Stereotype: The outcome when you crossbreed a middle-class metal fan with a wigga slam attitude and a working class neighbourhood. There’s nothing generic going on here
If I grabbed your headphones right now who would I be most likely to be listening to?
Something really heavy or really gay. My Zune’s been off too long to have any reliable up to date info on the matter, but I think my last use was The Black Dahlia Murder’s ‘Deflorate‘ while cooking either chicken or beef from a Jamie Oliver recipe. Deathcore makes great cooking music.
What is the music event of the year?
I have no idea. I don’t see music as being something particularly preoccupied with “events”, and the emboldened ‘the’ is scaring the hell out of me in its mounting pressure on having something everyone can agree on. Despite the ominous nature of the sentence and that ‘the‘, I’m gonna go with something personal, as I haven’t really been aware of many music events this year, other than the usual bland smorgasboard of festivals, gigs, and releases. No, the most memorable music event of the year, for me, was when Papa Roach’s ‘Last Resort’ came on in the club I worked in, and in front of my till, a hilariously obese man, roughly resembling a stack of clumsily made jellys, looked up like a small child on Christmas day, with a face lit up like a festive tree, and screamed, nay, Bellowed, with Joy at the choice of song. He then gestured, arms outstretched, towards his (also hilariously obese) girlfriend, and bellowed again, before stampeding to the dance floor. This memory sticks with me like no other, the Joy in that fat man’s face will lift me up whenever I look back for years to come.
For you, when does music begin?
Fuck The Beatles, fuck Bob Dylan and fuck 4/4 timing. Music began when Gustav Holst composed ‘The Planets’, the most epic body of music in existance, written 1914-1916. Why would you phrase the question like some faggot Indie kid talking like a self righteous prick by overstating the cultural importance of whatever bullshit it is he chooses to listen to.