Post Pardieuw Procrastinations: A straunge Interregnum is now upon us; now thatte My Lord’s Reeve, Pardieuw hath but gone to Ye South where he can Indulge in signynges of players like Shelvey. Back upon ye Barrack Road, there is a profound lack of anythynge in ye air. A most Confusynge Miasma hath settled upon us; and tyme seemeth to drag like a dog’s arse upon ye pavement. At boardroom level, My Fatte Lorde doth carry on acting like he’s a cross between bloody Stalin and Arkwright from Open all Hours.
Worse, ye footballe played by Ye Lads is Most predictable in its unpredictable predictabilitye, with all sorts of shite being served uppe. A game against a Feisty Burnley side for instaunce, which but did include a Pantomyme owne goal by Dummett and hid the facte that them Lankies could have had 4 or 5. To wit, agaynste Burnley FC we end up being lucky to scrape 2 points out of 6; from a side that’s going to scrap for its life all season. Surely the Mystic Megs of Ye footballe betting world must be giving us a wide berth at the mo.
In many Respectes, this period doth remind your Aged Scribe of Ye periode of Jim Smith and our Benevolente but ineffectual Señor Ardilles; where cut price Bargaynes and Young and Ganymede-like Knaves did but populate Ye first team and Ineffectual players like Scott Sloan, David Mitchell, Gavin McGuire (and that little Jimmy Somerville lookalike from Spurs, who missed an open net from 2 yards out against Wolves) did but fleetinglye appear, moreover to little effect; much like the lad in the office on work placement, who is meant to be management material but who ends up photocopying HR’s Christmas do invites. Take for instaunce our cup defeat against Leicester, where our first team did butte resemble a pub team replete with players too younge to Suppe, or those who had notte got sufficientleye wankered after ye annual Yuletide party. Even with a better showing at Chelsea (and a proper run out for Cabella) it was obvious that ye team would be beaten as their frailty and uncertainty is but a scratch away from the surface.
Oh well, ‘twould be better now if we all banned ourselves from Ye Scurrilous Electronicke News Pamphlette that is Knowne as Twitter, as the news thereon will be Evil, and involve nothynge but untrue and Knavish rumour, with the onleye Certaintye that Ye longe-nosed and Alsatian double trickster Wenger will sign Sissoko on January 31.
Herewith; 10 songs of dolorous, quiet, puzzling or uncertaine import.
- Adrian Crowley – The Hungry Grass https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HQJ4rS8xDGA
- The Sound of Yell – Scuttling https://soundcloud.com/sound-of-yell/scuttling
- Kevin Morby – Parade https://soundcloud.com/woodsist/kevin-morby-parade
- publicservicebroadcasting – Yin Ta Ko Mel – Ko Aunt Gyi https://soundcloud.com/publicservicebroadcasting/yin-ta-ko-mel-ko-aunt-gyi
- Viet Cong – Continental Shelf https://soundcloud.com/jagjaguwar/vietcong-continental-shelf
- Fat Supper – Grotorro https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-KhHSEl18gk
- Michna – She Exists in My Mind https://soundcloud.com/ghostly/michna-she-exists-in-my-mind
- The Drink – Microsleep https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EjMK6hMIFuo
- King Ayisoba – Wicked Leaders https://soundcloud.com/makkumrecords/wicked-leaders?in=makkumrecords/sets/king-ayisoba-wicked-leaders
- Fawn Spots – New Sense https://soundcloud.com/firerecords/fawn-spots-new-sense
RICHARD FOSTER, INCENDIARY MAGAZINE