Rock stars have a pretty fucking wild life. It’s all snorting coke off stripper’s boobies this, and biting bat’s heads off that. Well I for one am yawning my tits off with their cliched (and probs false) tales of debauchery. Just settle down and watch some fucking Emmerdale will you? (JOKES! No one should ever have to be subjected to Emmerdale). So when LA bitches goddesses Warpaint breezed in like the illegitimate love children of Kurt Cobain and Stevie Nicks, I just about WET MY PANTS. And then Jo Whiley started playing them on the radio and I got pissed off that Jo Whiley liked them but it’s okay because I’m totally over it, Jo Whiley’s a bit of a don anyway, despite dropping inane Glastonbury anecdotes into every conversation on the abhorrent Radio One. Ugh. I digress.
So first, on record they’re cooler than er, Ice T standing on the word ‘COOL’ next to a fridge (yeah?) but live they’re on another level of psychedelic fuzz-rock that I just can’t iterate on the white space of this site, dear readers. Having caught them at a festival a couple of weeks ago – where there were actual crowd surfers, how retro! – I came to the massively surprising realisation that I am so gay for Jenny Lee Lindberg. In case you’re unfamiliar with this bloody beautiful specimen, she’s the sister of Shannyn Sossamon (the one that had Josh Hartnett tripping (over his) balls in 40 Days and 40 Nights) and incidentally, plays bass like she’s Marvin Gaye on a love-making marafon. Have a listen and watch in awe. If all girls were this chill, I would trade in my hetero card and tip velvet for life.
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Holly
To borrow a phrase from the Man Repeller, I have a lady boner…