Got an opinion on the local music scene? We want to hear from you! Call or fax 271-RANT (7268) or RantonLine online. |
|
"EDITED" BY AL SOUTH This week: When doves cry, the Unaranter's manifesto, the city's cutest band. Plus: Satan worship & phenomenology uncovered at local high school dance! m Yeah, I just came back from the DJ Shadow show. Oh man, it sucked big time. After the first band played, DJ Shadow came out and started mixing and stuff. I went, "Whoaa, he's mixing between sets, this guy's COOL." But then after 45 minutes, he took his vinyl and his turntables and got the hell out out of there! It turns out THAT WAS HIS SET. Oh man, that sucks. Shadow, you owe us big time. [BLEEP!] m This is to the New Bomb Turks and what they said in their [Mirror] interview. What is up with you guys insulting snowboarders? Snowboarders support your ass! You also dissed polished punk, when in fact you're on Bad Religion's record label. Get used to it! I was going to go to your show--but now I think you're a bunch of LOSERS. [BLEEP!] m Hello. I saw something disturbing at Bal en Blanc last month--I expected someone to rant by now, but since no one did, here I go. One of the competitors in the fashion show segment ended their presentation by releasing two DOVES into the hot, loud, crowded room. Big surprise, the birds were disoriented. One flew within inches of a lit torch and crash-landed on the stage. The other flew onto the dance floor, shit itself and was launched from person to person before it disappeared. The fashion ARTISTE then asked the crowd to return the bird because its partner was lonely. This is directed to you, artiste: if you want to keep your birds, keep them SAFE. Not only do you NOT deserve your bird back, you deserve a swift kick in the ass for stressing these animals in the name of your clichéd art. In related news, I think whoever had the idea to keep piranhas in a tank at Coliseum, where even human beings can be driven insane by the noise, should be tossed into the tank immediately. Arf, and good day. [BLEEP!] f Hi, this is a rant for Sissy Havoc. They are the hardest working and CUTEST band to ever be involved in the Montreal music scene. The cutest band ever! We just thought there should be some happy news. [BLEEP!] m I hope this is a welcome change from the pettiness I usually read in this column. Here goes [clears throat]. The sonic winds of change are seeking justice and wreaking havoc upon the self-serving pen droppings of angst-ridden enigmatic self-made demi-gods peddling their hopeless poisonous self-destructive manifestos, with '70s arena rock riffs as their mediums. How long has it been since a collective whole has moved towards the artifice without power-mongering control freaks who have to manipulate and persuade the masses for their own bidding and glory? Thank god the winds are clearing away the spoilt seeds of the romantically envisioned Plateau music scene of yesteryear. The taps are dry, the rock celebrity stories told and the loud and proud sound merchants are now closing shop. Let unfettered openly interpretive music be the river of change in our veins. All other means of creativity are synthetic. To quote Henry James, "In the deceptive atmosphere of art, even the highest respectability may fail out of being plastic." Thank you, sincerely, Una. U-N-A. [BLEEP!] m Hi, I have something I'd like to say to all the promoters in this city of raves and other such events. You people better get your acts together, because after DWO1 by Channel Productions there should never be a shitty party in this city again. I have never EVER seen a such an incredible party pulled off so professionally. All of you other people better be up to their par or there's no way you are going to achieve any success. [BLEEP!] m HELP!! It's Friday night, I'm at a HIGH SCHOOL DANCE and my friends are all doing the Macarena. Help, help, I have no life... [passes phone to m friend]... yeah, I want to talk about the little green men... Ed: And so begins a marathon rant, direct from an unidentified high school. As REM songs drone hollowly in the background, 18 youths [11 f, 7 m] in varying states of intoxication take turns talking about topics that include: the existence of aliens, the inherent evilness of the phone company, the fashion sense of the Irish, the Sex Purity Test, the game of spoons played for tequila shots, weight problems, the philosophy of phenomenology [f: "How do we know what is really real? How do we know we are not just a figment of somebody's imagination? If we fall down, do we, like, really fall down?"], the Backstreet Boys [f: "Nick is the cutest, AJ has the best body"], and, inevitably, MARILYN MANSON [f: "Oh my god. He is so hot. I don't see how people can be afraid of him, I just love him. I'd do anything for him. He's so sexy. Oh yeah. He is divine. Mmm mmm mmm"]. [BLEEP!] m Roses are red, violets are blue, HAIL SATAN my liege lord and master. Satan rules the universe, here's some music to listen to [blasts unidentified Satanic rock selection]. [BLEEP!] Next week: Does Satan have too much influence on the local music scene? Or not enough? |