Feb 032009

I haven’t been around lately. Been busy. Doin’ shit. So for those of you don’t know, I am the Mikey from the Life Cereal campaign. Here’s me then:

Here’s me now:

Anyhoo. I got that ad campaign because I’m supposed to be a cynic, right? I’m supposed to hate everything, right?! I swallow my anger, right?!! Wrong dillweeds!! Wrong.

I have the open mind of a newborn babe. That’s why I work in my birthday suit.

So let’s talk about The Big Bopper.

A cynic might say that The Big Bopper is the luckiest man in rock for if he hadn’t died in that crash, no one would remember him.

A cynic might say that in the triumvirate of Chubby CheckerFats Domino-Big Bopper, the Bopper comes up third no matter how you sort them: talent, fattest, most black…

I might suggest that we celebrate the fact that The Big Bopper wrote that White Lightening song and some song about a bear running that apparently deserve notoriety.

A cynic might respond, WTF are you talking about?

A cynic might say that the only people who truly celebrate The Day The Music Died are Don McLean and whoever inherited the royalties to Chantilly Lace.

But I’m not a cynic.

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Jan 042008

Here we go again. “Mikey hates everything,” blah, blah, blah, blah, blah. Shove it. That’s just you being all “Conventional Wisdom” and shit.

My man sammy hipped me to his Mystery Date and I gotta say, this time Conventional Wisdom’s gonna take it in the two-hole.

Those two tracks were from perhaps the most viciously maligned rock album of all times: Squeeze by “The Velvet Underground.”

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Nov 052007

The reports of my death have been greatly exaggerated. So have the reports that I hate everything. Unless of course we’re talking about this steaming piece of crap, appropriately titled Cut The Crap. Cut the Crap indeed.

Like my brave sampling of Life Cereal I took it upon myself to bravely purchase, listen to and do everything possible to find the light in the tunnel of “The Clash’s” last official release.

I’m a Strummer man. Always have been. Always will be. The Clash without Jones couldn’t be that bad, could it? Couldn’t be worse than Bad Audio Dynamite, could it?

You have no idea how much I wanted to find some gems in here to wave in your holier-than-thou faces. “Conventional wisdom” has it this album bites. And the lot of you gulp this second hand wisdom shit down without boldly going yourself. Conventional wisdom IS The Man. Fuck conventional wisdom. Fuck The Man! Let me hear it, I’ll judge for myself.

Sadly I have been put in my place. Conventional wisdom (CW) has made me his bitch. Those of you who took CW at its word have saved yourself time, effort, money, and dignity. This album = the sound of your post-coffee BM trudging and struggling its way down your far-past-due-for-rooting plumbing.

Please accept my apology. I too should have swallowed this CW shit. I fought The Man, and The Man won. Allow my suffering to enlighten you on this travesty without soiling your own fine footwear.

Here’s the closest thing to gems I could find. That is to say that these are as good as it gets. I might be able to find some tracks on Combat Rock that I like less but, I just showered this Crap off me and don’t want to have to Bactine-swab my nipple-ring holes again:

This Is England
Dirty Punk

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