The Foundations – Baby Now That I’ve Found You/ The Hollies – Carrie Anne

Despite them not really sounding anything like each other, it’s not just me that’s merged these two songs into one in my mind is it? Tunes, both of them….

We should probably talk about that Raygun YouTube clip, then.

Dear American readers of ILB: I apologise, but this post concerns some inane UK indie bullshit that you could only possibly care about if, as a kid, you timed your Sunday baths to ensure that you wouldn’t have to watch Last of the Summer Wine on the family TV. Just be happy your nation has More to Love and leave us limey cocksuckers to it.

Remember when Perez Hilton told you Fidel Castro was dead and Michael Jackson was alive?

The next NME editor will be Stool Pigeon gaffer Phil Hebblethwaite, making him the first editor of a publication with an ABC figure of over 30,000 to have a name like a gentleman cricketer from the 1850s. You heard it here first.

IchLugeBullets Video Hall of Fame: #1 Smut Peddlers ft RA The Rugged Man – Bottom Feeders

 

Remember the good old days when this blog was more than just me writing about music videos? Well, get used to it, I’ve been so aggravated by the fact we’ve lost the extra 50 hits a day we used to get from people searching for pictures of Christina Hendricks (to a dead blog called ‘Meaningful Distractions’, of all places) that I’m on boycott of anything other than pith and snark. Plus in the past week I got twitter messages from both Fat Rab from Consolevania and the dude from the Indelicates. Certainly one for the LivingSocial update feed, that.

Anyway, this is different. I actually uploaded this video myself, with my own bare hands, having had the original on my hard drive since back in the days when a Soulseek connection was the height of the P2P revolution. Of course, the reason that this wasn’t on YouTube when I searched for it is almost certainly because it’s violently obscene and really just 4:36 of hardcore pornography featuring very unattractive cracker rappers, but still. The uncensored version is here, for comparison’s sakes.

What with Asher Roth now basically being over, it’s possibly time to think about white people. White people don’t just make death metal, they sometimes rap as well, and there’s an argument to be made that all white rappers fall into three distinct groups. 

Firstly, there’s the “nice” white rapper. He’s either polite or educated, in the late 90s he was “conscious”, both before or after then he could have been distinctly middle class. So there you have your Asher Roths, your Ugly Ducklings, your dudes who travel around the world then come back and send you a demo of their album that samples some CD they bought off a Moroccan panpipe player on the streets of Al-Hoceima, and the Beastie Boys now.

Secondly, there’s the dirty white rapper. Pornocore, horrorcore, ironic ign’ant, frat rap, and so on and so forth. So here you have, as hinted at in the video, your Smut Peddlars, your RA The Rugged Man, Beastie Boys back when they were any good, and our good friends on Psychopathic Records.

Thirdly, the rapper who has another gimmick that overtakes his whiteness. This is usually nationality (House of Pain, Lordz of Brooklyn, Hilltop Hoods) or locale (200000000000000000000000000000000 shitty “rapper from out of the woods, son” MCs who existed solely between the years of 2002 and 2005 and seemingly all died with the advent of MySpace. Someone please ‘Where are they now?’ Lee Harvey for us all, we worry about him).

What this all leads me to say/think is that a) call me a fucking idiot but I honestly think that Big City Philadelphia is gonna be a legit prospect going forward into 2009 and b) “Bottom Feeders” has to be the best music video ever. I mean, the only way it could be improved is if it would be combined with the second best video ever, and you had a dying Johnny Cash snorting coke off a fat stripper’s cuntlips with Cage.

Ironically enough, there’s actually more chance of JC dropping a new hot joint than Cage these days. How a man can go from a nonsensical line like “I got a dog named Kubrick/It’s obvious I like his flicks/ Filming them with human chicks” (which is fantastic, as a) he makes sure you know he doesn’t mean baby chickens and b) really hoping this means he fucks them while riding an A-bomb) through to the cold mess of emocore bullshit he peddles now. I’d link to his latest video here, but all you need to know it was directed by Shia Le Bouef. I know, right? All I know is nowadays he won’t be ending verses with “You wanna talk shit and not get fucked up? That’s a faggot’s dream”.

The rest of it is just as wonderful. Rugged Man fucking a nun in the ass with a gun. One girl, one cup, one Mr Eon. RA jacking off in what’s meant to be the MTV Awards’ bathroom, but actually looks like a store closet. The fact that when Eon goes “E rains? Fuck it, E hurricanes” it sounds like “Fuckity hurricanes”, a much more middle-class profanity. Just everything about this video is wonderful. I know I should have put “NSFW” at the top, but if you get fired because of me, at least Twitter about it, I could do with the hits. Gotta recoup those 50 lost ones…

 

Remember the good old days when this blog was more than just me writing about music videos? Well, get used to it, I’ve been so aggravated by the fact we’ve lost the extra 50 hits a day we used to get from people searching for pictures of Christina Hendricks (to a dead blog called ‘Meaningful Distractions’, of all places) that I’m on boycott of anything other than pith and snark. Plus in the past week I got twitter messages from both Fat Rab from Consolevania and the dude from the Indelicates. Certainly one for the LivingSocial update feed, that.

“Portobello Road”, from Bedknobs and Broomsticks (1971)

Because it’s Bank Holiday Monday, and this is probably the finest Bank Holiday movie imaginable. It was also the favoured flick of IchLugeBullets between the ages of seven and twelve, when Pulp Fiction overtook it in our affections. Realest of talk: Bedknobs and Broomsticks, despite its obvious failing (ie, the eldest son from the movie, with the mod haircut and market stall accent, is an unlikeable prick), smokes the hell out of all Tarantino movies ever, and there’s a strong argument for it being the best non-Pixar movie in history. This was always my favourite scene from it. Further thoughts after the jump.

In which we apologise for a weekend sans content

ILB liveblogs The Apprentice

Paul Torrisi memorial livelog after the jump.

In review: The Athens Polytechnic

Don’t call us a Nah Right for the pasty twee fuck crowd, IchLugeBullets.com has always sought to bring you reviews of bands that aren’t covered anywhere else. But before we provide a critical service, lemme dim the lights and speak to the ladies in the audience first. These are difficult times to have ovaries. There’s economic uncertainties out there that are bound to hit working mothers and those still struggling against the glass ceiling hardest.There’s a health scare a week, be it from increased obesity rates through to higher risks of breast cancer.  And then there’s Alan Pardew’s solemn promise to rape every single woman in Britain by 2015.

Legends of UK hip-hop #1: Too-Hype Posse of Oxted, Surrey

I appreciate that one of the great pieces of ridiculousness of IchLugeBullets, other than the fact that a week later we’ve still not written that anecdote about the indie musician trying to brainwash us into being addicted to his semen, is that it is in effect a blog written by a Britisher dealing with, for a good 30% of its content, American rap music.

In review: Notorious (2009)

As a rapper, Christopher Wallace was always a man with a message to deliver to his audience, whether it was about the emotion effect that a woman’s breast cancer can have on her son, or the benefits of grabbin’ yo dick. Accordingly, Notorious is a movie that contains three explicit messages. Here they are, in ascending order of screen time afforded them:

1) Irrespective of whether you’ve been cheating on your girl or just going Chris Brown on her ass, all you need to do is beatbox to win your lady’s heart back
2) Despite heaps of circumstantial evidence, rumour, industry supposition, and that one song Papoose did, Sean Combs had no role or implication in the jacking or murder of Tupac Shakur, or the latter murder of his friend and employee The Notorious BIG
3) Lil Kim is a cunt