What A Week with John Kerrison #1

Mental Courtney and the Infinite Madness

Courtney Love seems like a nice lady doesn’t she? The kind of girl you could take home to your parents, enjoy a nice Sunday roast and a game of Ludo with before watching her do a fuck-ton of drugs, take her clothes off and try and wrestle your mum in the garden whilst she’s tending to her begonias.

Never the quiet, retiring type, Love has once again hit the headlines after throwing a hissy fit during a Hole gig in Brazil. I know what you’re thinking, ‘Hole are still playing gigs? Who goes to see them? And do they do it ironically like when hipsters play Gameboys or do they actually like Hole?’, but that’s because you’re a cynical bunch with malignant souls and cold hearts. I’m joking, I was as surprised as you.

The video below shows Love storming off stage because a member of the audience holds a photo of Kurt Cobain aloft, which to be fair is a bit insensitive. After a tense forty seconds or so some of her entourage try to coax her fans into encouraging her back on by chanting ‘Foo Fighters are gay’, a sentiment only matched in its literal inaccuracy by its puerility. Do adults still call things gay when they don’t mean very good? Is that still a thing? What happens if something’s just average, is it then by comparison bi? Bi-curious? Did it just have one night of experimentation after a few too many Mai Tai’s? It’s all very confusing to those of us that haven’t been in a playground for a decade or so.

Apparently before photo-of-Kurt-gate inspired said rattle-throwing, Love flashed her mammaries* at the crowd and also explained how a huge selection of Billy Corgan’s back catalogue was inspired directly by her, including the entirety of ‘Melan Collie And The Infinite Sadness’, which is a different take on the old “Corgan wrote ‘Celebrity Skin’” rumour, but still equally as uninteresting.

*I’d like to point out at this point that I don’t have anything against boob-flashing as a concept. I just think that at some point during your forties exposing them in public becomes less like a carefree rock ‘n’ roll statement and more like a public disorder act, or the kind of thing that would prompt the nurses to take you back to your room.

Smashing Pumpkins MK13

Speaking of Billy Corgan, the-only-man-to-have-fired-more-people-than-Alan-Sugar’s Smashing Pumpkins are currently on tour, and after the first of two apparently excellent gigs at the O2 arena their Twitter account released this slightly odd charisma-deficient interview.

There’s nothing particularly interesting about it apart from the fact I’ve never seen four people look like they were having less fun in my entire life. It’s like the interview was filmed in a joy vacuum, the palpable tension only on a par with the pretentious nonsense spouted by the nervous looking chap at the back. In particular, the line, “I think as a band you’ll see us more philosophically assume that alternative position in music and just play differently than most other bands…” made my bullshit-o-meter fly off the scale, which is weird in itself because I don’t have a bullshit-o-meter as they don’t exist and would be impossible to invent. Anyway, have a look for yourselves and notice the fear etched on each band-member’s face. It’s the look of people who spend each morning nervously checking their mail for a P45.  I wonder what would happen if someone told a joke in there. Or farted. Or sang a Hole song under their breath. It looks like some shit’s about to go down. Luckily if it does it will probably be some really philosophical, transcendent shit that will assume an alternative position in being shit with a downward trajectory.

I think as a human I just philosophically assumed an alternative position in wishing the Pumpkins were still the way they were when I was 18.

Non-News News Story of the Week:
Petergeist

Pastry-faced Peter Doherty, a man seemingly never short of either a headline or a mainline, is apparently being haunted by Amy Winehouse’s ghost, who happens to think his songs are shit, an opinion probably not exclusive to those from beyond the grave. I’m not entirely sure who leaked this story – presumably one of Pete’s friends who was in need of £20 and stumbled across a journalist – but in future, if Pete sees ghosts, aliens, the son of god or the devil himself, I think it’s important to point out that the hallucinations of a drug addict probably shouldn’t be considered newsworthy. And yes, I’m fully aware of the irony of me then choosing to write about it, but in my defence the ghosts of Elvis, Biggie and Tupac all bullied me into it. And Elvis carries a piece.

In Other News:
Gaga, Urine Trouble

It seems not a week goes by in which I don’t feel compelled to write about Lady Gaga. This week, top quality hamster-cage-filler The Sun printed a story about Lady G doing a wee in Alan Carr’s bin before appearing on his chat show, which to be fair he probably had coming.

She was quoted as saying, “I quite often pee in my dressing room in the trash can. The bathroom is down the hall and you must get redressed. So I said: “F*** it!’ Otherwise, I’d be Latey Gaga.”
Granted, it’s disgusting to pee in someone else’s bin, not to mention rude, unhygienic and unnecessary but

I’m not overly bothered by it. That ‘Latey Gaga’ gag on the other hand, is fucking inexcusable.

Non-Music Stories of the Week:

Blah, blah, blah, blah, sentences are for losers. Look at this surfing goat.

I’ve learnt this week that when a video is titled ‘Goat Surfs In California’, it really means ‘Goat Is Forced To Surf In California And Runs Away From The Water As Soon As It Can’. The interview afterwards, for those of you not fluent in the dialect of the West Coast, can be translated thusly:

“I have far too much time on my hands. Man, I should really get a job. My dad was right, if I’d stayed in school then I could have had my own accountancy firm by now, but instead here I am putting a goat on a surfboard so I can get on the local news. That’s so typical of me. I’m going to change, though. From this day forwar… Hang on, I wonder if I can get that dolphin to drive my truck…”

And Finally…

With recent allegations of racism having plagued the Premier League, Sepp Blatter, the Baron Von Greenback of FIFA, has announced once and for all that there is no racism in football, before declaring that if there is some racism in football it should probably be sorted out by a firm handshake after the game. After all, that’s pretty much what Martin Luther King Jr’s dream was, wasn’t it? – that his children could one day play in the street with white kids, be racially abused by them and then shake their hands afterwards in the pretence that nothing happened. Congratulations, Sepp, you otherworldly cunt.