“Look at her with her washing line smile. Look at him with his dog dirt eyes. Look at her with her rabbit spare teeth. Look at him with his dressing gown nose. Look at her with her cul de sac arms. Look at him with his wheelchair heart.”
This song deserves to be yelled from every rooftop in every street in Britain. Its lyrics deserve to be carved into every desktop in every schoolroom in Britain. Its tune should be yodelled from the terraces. Its video should be put into constant rotation on every last fucking meathead video channel the world over, and replace Arcade boring-as-fuck Fire as the hipsters’ sensitivity of choice. (Imagine if The Lovely Eggs were U2 or the Pope. Wouldn’t the world be surreal and wonderful and full of delicious turmoil and laughter?) The video co-stars John Shuttleworth (Jilted John to our American cousins) and that should be enough recommendation in itself. Its video is loved by Huw Stephens and The Bobby McGee’s, and is on Cherryade Records, and that too should be enough recommendation in itself. There’s a touch of the Cobains about it somewhere. The Lovely Eggs would have been so fucking loved by John Peel if he was still alive, it makes me want to burn all the brighter to try and convince you. There’s a touch of the Scout Niblett‘s (turned totally Technicolor and Richard Brautigan and upside-down by pervery) about the forthcoming album too, honest. I mean, it’s grunge – but not as you know it. Grunge, as me old mucker Leighton Beezer from Thrown-Ups once wrote it.
Lordy, I can’t believe I still haven’t caught them live after all this time. I mean, this is absolute heartland Everett True territory if you must know – this husband/wife duo would have made old Frank Sidebottom (and of course Moldy Peaches) proud. Fucking brilliant.
My name is Everett True. I am a music critic. This is what I do. I criticise music.
The clue is in my job description – music critic. I do not consider myself a journalist, as I do not research or report hard news. I do not consider myself a commentator as I believe that everyone should be a participant. I criticise people and in return I am not surprised if other people criticise me. It is part of the whole deal of being in the public arena.
I am Everett True. Believe in me and I have power like a God. Quit believing in me and I no longer exist.