Sinister: How I learnt to love Julio Iglesias in Transylvania

[Tag]

Hello Little Sisters and Brothers in Jesus,

Good article about Belle and Sebastian in Sweden's "Pop" magazine
(thank you lovely lovely Tyskan, I'm still waiting for your first post
to the list).  They put 'IYFS' at Number 15 in their LPs of the year,
(in a wonderfully Radiohead free chart) and said ...

"Independent as fuck" är hip hop trion Company Flows slogan men den
borde användas av Belle and Sebastian, Glasgows skyggaste
sjumannaorkester.  De ställer aldrig upp på bild och bannlyser A&R män
från sina konserter.  "If you're feeling sinister" fylls av blås,
stråker, vänliga melodier och underfundiga texter.  Ljudet av det
Skottland ekar fortfarande.

... which I'm sure you all agree with wholeheatedly.

What's all this about the Scatman, then Keith?  I heard those songs
too many times on holiday.  Of course this can be a good thing.  "Mr
Vain", and that Bailando song that haunted me last year, for example
are classics of out time.  I managed to embarrass my fellow DJ by
playing Bailando at the end of my set, then just walking away so it
looked like he had put it on, leaving him to wave his arms and mouth
"it wasn't me, honest" at ridiculing punters.  But as a result of
holiday overexposure, I now despise (with every inch of my being) that
bloody Sash and his clown of a mate who hollers 'Ecuador'.  As for
poor Scatman himself, I'm afraid it's "Oi John - NO!  I admire your
Stephen Hawking like triumph over your speech impedement, but if you
come round here with singing your catchy yet irritating brand of Cleo
Laine meets Johnny Dankworth Eurodisco, I shall have to give you a
slap".  

Mind you, I got really into Julio Iglesias (a footballer like Albert
Camus) in Romania, they played him in cafes, on the buses (including
the evil Vampire Bus of Death with doors that remained open for the
entire journey while I hung on to the rail for dear life watching the
tarmac speed below me and closed only in an attempt to sever my arm).
Riding on these particular city buses for a hobby is fatal.

Oh and Northy's so-called friend, I have no wish to see a picture of
our dear departed, I would rather savour my own image of him, radiant
and gently smiling his all-knowing, all-loving smile, like the angel
he undoubtedly is.  I guess he just couldn't deal with the loss of
Enoch Powell.

Love
Tag xx
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