Management are, like,
you got to start work on the new record
And I’m like, what
the fuck you talking about?
We just released one.
And they’re, like, we need to
capitalise on your yada yada yada
And I’m, like, sure,
I understand, but genius can’t
And they’re like, do
you actually have any new songs?
So I’m, like, shoot,
only about seven hundred -
and every one of them better than
Bohemian fucking Rhapsody.
And they’re like cool, cool, cool
because the studio and producer is
booked for tomorrow.
And I’m like tomorrow? Tomorrow?
No-can-do, mon amigo. I got this thing to take
care of tomorrow.
And they’re, like, but that’s what we’re
here for: to take care of things
so you don’t have to.
And I’m, like, no, no, you don’t
understand, I’m doing laundry and then
I gotta go see…
And they’re like, well, that’s going
to have wait a while. We’ve got more
And I’m, like, are you fucking serious?
You want me to record in dirty shorts now?
Dude, that’s inhumane.
In the end I humour them and we go cut
a bunch of shitty acoustic B-sides with
The next day I drop by management
and throw down the tapes and my stinkiest
And I’m, like, here you go, I got an
ass rash, I hope you’re fucking
happy now, huh?
Eleven months later the shitty acoustic
B-sides comprise fifty per cent of our
And even now every time I hear it I think of
my own stinky ass crack and the personal pain and
suffering that went into that record.