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Thrashspey
Decline Records
F.O.D. Zine
Mondo Bizarro
Some, er, humour
Anti-capitalism and freedom
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Hi friends ... Thrashspey is, er, no more.
The number of times I've had a band fall apart in front of my eyes - it doesn't bear thinking about - but this time it's MY side project and MY band that have been fucked around, by none other than... KK. I thought me and KK were in this rural-punk-rocker business together. He had came to Moray as a clueless twat; I lent him CDs by NOFX and bands like that; then he wanted to write for F.O.D. and even started up his own zine! - then he went off punk rock, went mental and started speading shit! Once I thought we'd always thrash on at full force while others dropped out, pussied out or licked arses to get to the top. I was wrong. Basically KK has hated my mate Laura for ages, and he is a sadist and wanted to see me get a slap in the face from Laura. So he spread shit about me. If there's one thing I can not abide, it's shit-spreading. Last year, when I was at a low-point, I was made to feel even lower by a bunch of neds and people who I thought I could trust. Those who know, know. So this latest bunch of attacks is unprovoked, I approach KK, he announces he quits Thrashspey, and it seems he is in love with a boy in our class, namely Graeme Carney. This type of split always happens; normally I grab an acoustic and perform my Thrashspey songs acoustically, but at the moment, I can't be arsed. I haven't played my bass for 4 days (which is unheard of) and I am feeling so weighed down, dismayed, sick and tired and pissed off with so many people ... I can't be arsed. Right now, I'm sitting swigging a beer and listening to heavy fast hardcore and I can't be arsed with this website, Thrashspey or life. Maybe I'll pull myself together, meet some punks from far places and have 24-hour long practices (I've always thought this was possible - sign my guestbook if your band have done a practise for 24 hours!!!) but now I can't see that happening. I am surrounded by pissheads (absolute pissheads!), neds, meatheads, dickheads, crackheads, deadheads and seem to attract the feds. I feel out of place, been spat in the face and would feel less alienated ... in space. So life is always rosy? Life can never be that bad? Depression's all invented by the mind? You should always look on the bright side? What if there is no bright side? OK, now some lyrics! PRIVATE BRY. "He'll steal your hash, coke, speed and snow When you ask for them back he'll JUST SAY NO Pieces of cake are what he eats and pies (AND PIES!) He's just a guy who gets over-protective Chasing dogs and impaling them on fences Maybe someday he'll grow the fuck up and stop being such a kid. Every day it's the fucking same 'I fucked her' 'I stole this' and 'you're to blame!' He has nipples with steel and arms with ink He makes beer bongs out of my kitchen sink 'This is lame' 'this is lame' 'this is such a fucking bore' He just ran through my front door Smoked reefer and drank bromine it's private Bry! And in Station Rd he's doing crime He's making songs that don't even rhyme He's a misfit and he likes doing it With anyone but you And in Northfield Place he's doing crime Pranking dudes and wasting time You know he won't stop throwing bricks at cops Who else could it be but our private Bry? Our private fucking Bry!!" As ever, encouragement, coupons for free face-lifts, applications to be the new Thrashspey guitarist/drummer/backing vocalist/nose flutist to the usual email address or on my guestbook. Please.