Tagged: shampoo


Three things, then:
1. As a coda to my overthinking-it series of posts on Welsh history, identity, and the Manics, I did an interview with Studio Hiraeth on roughly the same themes; it is here.
2. The Quietus ran a piece from my upcoming rant about representations of class and gender in the 90s, featuring Shampoo and Kenickie. (By the way, if you thought that was tenuous overthinking-it pseudo-academic bollocks, wait till you read my take on S*M*A*S*H.) The band themselves have all been positive about it, which makes me wish I had some means of time-travelling back a decade or so to tell my late-teenage self to cheer the fuck up.
3. Sticking with 90s nostalgia, this Wales Arts Review interview with Simon Price is a good read, if bleak and suspicion-confirming.

How I Stopped Worrying and Learned to Love the Bo(m)b

So the next scheduled Apocalypse isn’t until October. Good; I have stuff to do before October, but little to do after it, and at the current rate of Armageddon I won’t need to pay off my student loan. More importantly, Dylan was 70 on Tuesday.

One of my favourite theories/lies/facts about Dylan is that the lyrics to ‘It’s a Hard Rain’s Gonna Fall’ consist of titles or opening lines for other songs which Dylan felt he wouldn’t have time to write before nuclear conflagration moved these matters rather lower down everyone’s list of concerns. In similar manner – and because I’m quite aware that most of my writing is what you’d get if you fed ‘The Libertines’, ‘class war’, ‘wank’, ‘appalling pun’, and ‘cultural history’ into a Random Lyrics Generator – here is a blog post consisting of titles for other blog posts which I doubt I’ll ever get around to writing. Only about two of these are serious proposals, of course, and the rest self-parodic. But the two keep changing. Continue reading

Being a female music fan online and offline

While the 1990s weren’t the greatest decade for feminist comings of age, as a small-town girl who loved her music, I didn’t do too badly. I’d grown up on the leftovers of punk, awed and enthralled by women like Poly Styrene, Patti Smith, Ari Up and Gaye Advert. Closer to home, I had Shampoo’s deadpan, dead-eyed bubblegum-punk and Kenickie’s bracing uber-proletarian blend of grit and glitter.

Continue reading