The apocalypse is upon us.
I just watched The Cure be inducted into the rock and roll hall of fame, lower case deliberate. I actually think that Robert Smith deserves the accolade having enjoyed his whimsical sense of despair from a distance for many years.
Then suddenly it goes all Janet Jackson on me and I reach for the balm of discord and heroic Wagnerian posturing that Godpseed! You Black Emperor provide.
I am still not sure why we were watching the hall of fame other than it may have been better than CNN recreating the eighties which I lived through and was not so bright and breezy as the commentator was making it sound. It was also not quite so fluffy either.
‘Allelujah! Don’t Bend! Ascend! you have to enjoy any album that comes with instructions, play this way A1, B1, A2, B2 with the B parts being on the enclosed 7″ record. Enjoy the inscrutable poster and the vaguely terrifying lonely square building that appears to be the subject of an impending disaster as you listen.