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Safety Goodlookingstrippedsingers Girls Good Looking Stripped Singers Family Good Looking Stripped Singers Ko Hilfe:Personendaten Good Looking Stripped Singers Blog: Why I strongly dislike singer-songwriters « The Man From Mitch and Murray

Safety Goodlookingstrippedsingers Girls Good Looking Stripped Singers Family Good Looking Stripped Singers Ko Hilfe:Personendaten Good Looking Stripped Singers

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Yet despite the many and varied influences they have within the sphere of mainstream rock music, their music still maintains a sound which you never hear in the charts.  It exists solely at acoustic nights, local talent shows and regional late night radio.  I can’t explain it, I genuinely can’t.  It’s the kind of music you imagine someone would make if they’d never really heard music but knew roughly how it was supposed to go.  The guitar is strummed like Noel Gallagher (or if it’s a ballad then they may use that picking pattern from Nothing Else Matters by Metallica).  Sometime they might “funk it up” but plucking the strings too harshly and then slapping their hand down to mute them to try and create a percussive sound- like RnB bands always do when they do a special “stripped down” performance for T4.  You know the shite.  All of this is delivered with a profound gravitational smugness that seems to draw every ounce of life and love from the room into the hole at the centre of their guitar that they spent hours picking in a guitar shop, probably playing the same pre-prepared trills and solos over and fucking over.  The face is often deeply earnest and pained, despite the fact that each set of lyrics seems to be referring to the same event.  In some weird existential negation, they sing about an event that never occured but which seemed to have a deep effect upon them: some woman (called Baby or Child) has gone away.  Then something about the morning happened and something about the bed, and the sunrise.  And there’s various descriptions about being next to them in various places.  However, none of this relates to a real person.  They just know that when you write a song that’s musically as generic as beige then you need some nice non-descript inoffensive lyrics generally about love and/or heartache.  And lots of metaphors deriving from nature. Of course, none of them really have souls because they’re all painfully middle class.  They live in massive houses in villages just outside of town centres that manage to retain a certain inbred rural charm despite being a stone’s throw from civilisation.  They can see fields from their houses.  They roll up their trousers past the ankle and walk around barefoot, sometimes outside.  Their parents know French people.  They actually picnic.  They were educated at a place called The ___________ School and engaged in strange homoerotic practices during lunch breaks.  The closest they come to an urban lifestyle is their local town centre where they nip out to buy incense sticks for their hippy parents who work in IT but think they’re boho because they get to work from home two days a week and get to wear jeans in the office.  They probably attend all of the festivals that no one likes: Womad, Witness, V.

And of course there’s the “album”.  They’re normally promoting an “album” with a “tour”.  I’ve written a whole blog about this before so I’ll keep this down to an abstract: the explosion of home studios has meant that a lot of great musicians are able to spread their music cheaply and efficiently.  However, this has also made any old fucker bang out an “album”, which makes life for the struggling musician hard.  I hate to be all fernickety and stuff, but I have to sell albums to pay money to the record label.  It doesn’t help when you say “We’ve got an album out” and everyone goes “yeah, me too”.  And you say “no, wereallyhave an album out.  It costs x amount of pounds” and they say “yeah, me too”.  And, as elitist as this sounds, you kind of want to shout “NO YOU FUCKING DON’T! No more than a photocopied manuscript stapled together and handed out at creative writing classes is you ‘promoting a novel’”.  And the tour?  Fuck me.  The tour is very often a cluster of dates in pubs around their home town, maybe as far afield Birmingham or Wolverhampton.  That’s not a tour.  Where is thetouringaspect of going to a pub and then going home every night?  At what point did you travel from one venue to the next?  It’s like saying that each week I do a tour of work and the shops.

Their facebook and myspace pages are full of whimsical shots of them looking into rivers and pondering something special.  Fire escapes and derelict buildings are reserved for bands, but SS have the monopoly on natural surroundings (especially as they all live in the country.  They probably own the fucking field).  They advertise the tour, the album and the gigs- which are predominantly open mic nights that they’ve “booked” a slot on- with a somewhat admirable self-confidence that actually verges on dellusion or downright dishonesty.  I hate those awful bastards.

I imagine that if you asked them what they did they would either say that they were an SS or as a whatever “but my main thing is being a singer-songwriter”.  This always puts the emphasis on the songwriting, the actual production of the material.  But this is the precise problem.  They see it as a job or a service.  They’d probably have business cards printed with it on.  Professional songwriters are normally dead and soulless because they are forced to write generic trash so that anyone can sing them.  It’s like producing comfortable one-size-fits-all trackie bottoms.  Even if there is a story behind the song it’s usually quite insipid.  If you’re lucky you’ll be treated to a cover of Damien cunting fuck balls Rice. 

Anyway, that’s why I stopped playing them, but in honest I have met some lovely musicians who’d describe themselves as singer-songwriters and I almost feel under an obligation to stop them and tell them that they’re not.  They’re not the aloof, pretentious, bold yet somehow petty minded, parochial hippy twats that frequent the “all day acoustic show” or sit in the park forcing you to listen to their jams.  They’re actually decent talented people who are musicians who play folk or indie or whatever it is they do.  But they’re not that.

By the way, rather than name and shame people, I decided to record my own “singer-songwriter” song.  I actually did this before I wrote the blog and everything is pretty much an extension of this song.  I could have put it at the start to save you having to read the last 2000 words, but what else had you got planned today?  You may as well just leave it a bit and come back later for maximum impact.  It’s also a useful abstract to send to people to say “this is what he wrote about, you don’t have to read it though, because he squeezed it into a couple of verses and a chorus”.