Never Trust a Rock Star
“I know rock and roll had to start somewhere, but did it have to be so fecking gay?” said Jenni, listening to the Beatles (live on the BBC) playing some slight variation of “Surfin’ USA.”
Yesterday morning I saw our landlady and her loyal subject scraping gig posters from streetlight poles, a type of neighbourhood beautification that leaves the poles looking patchy and scalped, not nice, shiny, and new. I’d like to apologize to all my Rock friends for her actions. When I returned home last night, a fresh layer of posters had been applied, and everything looked much better.
The Spock’s Beard mailing list has been abuzz all week with (a) theological debates and (b) breakup rumours. Well, both threads came together last night when the band released an official announcement. Lead singer/songwriter Neal Morse is leaving because “God wants me to do something else.” Neal’s been all about the Jeebus for a while now, and I’m guessing the CCM scene will become his new stomping ground. Good luck to him, but I hope he remembers that The Beard saved him from a lifetime of playing jazz synthesizer in Holiday Inn lounges.
The rest of the band are gonna keep being the Beard. Nick the drummer can carry a tune. If my worst fears come to pass, maybe he’ll come up front and be Phil Collins. Blargh.
So I just wanted to send out an Abba/Alan Partridge-style “Thank You For the (Secular) Music” to all concerned. Boy, the Glitzy Capers are going to have a field day with this one.
Rock and roll can still be pretty gay. Especially the bands that I like.
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