wally baderou is one of those ones where sometimes i'll be listening thinking yeah baby do your thing keep groovin' and other times the same song will make me think what is this shit its totally unacceptable
nice post good writingI can't be the only person who had layers of pop shit hurled at them during the 80's. Hideous. Stupefying. Trite. Cunts like Paul Young and the Kemp gimps. Fans of the Breakfast Club and The Lost Boys with mullets and perms. Crimes against jackets at cliched meat markets. Always a threat of it kicking off, somewhere, anywhere, everywhere. Sounds of breaking glass and glass under foot generally. Dissonance, amplified by the north of Ireland, meant 1988 was a mountain of an abyss. New lows and not from depression, you're too busy trying to get a ride. A sense that everything, everything, just out of the peripheral range of your hearing was turned up to 11. Volumes unheard red-lining, feeling the rip tides and ripples in your psyche like air and sound.