Nothing much to see here, just for reference’s sake:
“Give me a pop-song, mate. Give me a fucking pop-song. Not only is it more fun, it’s pretty fuckin’ hard to write as well. You can bung in as many out-of-tune oboes as you want, but putting chords together so they sound pleasant isn’t as simple as it might appear. It mightn’t be the Sistine Chapel, but what is? Ollie fucking Olsen with his stupid feedback and cough mixture? The Jesus and Mary Chain, with their stupid feedback, and their stupid stage show with 800 powerful stupid lights and enough stupid dry ice to enhance their stupid stupidity up its own bullshit crappy teenage pretentious one dimensional dick witted puissant artistic enigma?
“So … what have you listened to for a good time that isn’t, after all, a ‘traditional’ song? Still playing the Mike Oldfield records, huh? Still whipping Yessongs on for a good time? Wanna count on one hand how many people have fun at a Sonic Youth gig? I’m not supporting The Choirboys, old man, I’m just saying that the day some jumped-up over-paid self-important post-modernist cocksucker puts his foot upon his Fairlight computer in the middle of his 47-minute opus “The Silent Forgiveness of the Pig-God” and belts out the chords to “Johnny B. Goode” is the day I’ll join you at the footlights of post-modernism.
“Besides which, pop songs sell more.”