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Tuesday 30 August 2011

How To Fuck Boys And Not Be Gay

Note: This blog is aimed at straight males, not girls or gay men, smartass.
Also, some of this article may come across as homophobic. Believe me, it’s all in the name of comedy, and if you are boy who loves da cock, I’m sure you can tell that offending you was never my intention. Otherwise, just email me and tell me about your feelings.


There Are Ways To Fuck Boys And Not Be Gay
I think it’s fair to start by saying that I’ve never fucked a boy before. Hell, I’ve never even touched a penis that wasn’t mine before. And besides my Doctor and I’m sure my parents (when I was younger, not in a sexual way, I hope) there is only one man that has experienced the joy of touching my magnificent cock. His name was Mike, and immediately after he placed his index finger and thumb onto my pee-hole, he shoved a needle right through the middle, giving me my Prince Albert piercing. This I wore with pride for 5 years or so until my then girlfriend told me it hurt her bum. So I took it out.

What I’m getting at is this - I’m not gay. Not because I am opposed to the idea mind you, but because I haven’t found the right boy yet, you dig? Ha, no seriously, I’m not gay. However, I have come up with the following 10 rules which would allow any man to experience a little homosexuality without jeopardising his heterosexuality. But if at any time this article makes you feel uncomfortable, you might want to ask yourself... what part of your sexuality makes you feel this way? Hey, faggot? Here are the rules:

Rule#1: First Time’s Free
There are people out there (as in here) who are experimental by nature. They want to try everything at least once because they recognize that life is short and its very essence lies in experiences. This, more often than not, includes many weird and wonderful sexual acts, which could very well involve messing around with your same gender just a little. Look, if you’re sucking cock and getting rammed every weekend and trying to maintain that you love vag, then you are lying to yourself buddy. But if you've always wondered why you feel a strange spark from the guy behind the counter at McDonalds, I reckon you might as well give it a shot. I mean, it’s not gay, it’s experimental, and just another dark secret for your book of dark secrets.

Rule#2: What Happened Last Night?
If one night you find yourself on the dance-floor of some squat party; you’ve drank so much alcohol that you’ve already pissed yourself; you’ve swallowed more pills than you can remember; that gram of cocaine mysteriously disappeared into your face; and then suddenly you find yourself connecting on a deeper level with some stranger of the same sex... well, you wouldn’t be the first one. And if you end up going back to their place and partaking in some naughty adult scenarios, I wouldn’t over-think it too much. You’re not gay, you’re just totally mashed, and I think this is probably one of the most common forms of hetero-slips-homo. And in all honesty, the confusion and guilt you feel the next day will be enough torture - you don’t need to start questioning your sexuality on top of that.

Rule#3: Take One For The Team
I’m not afraid to say that I’ve kissed boys before, WHAT OF IT? If you knew me you would assume this to be the case anyway, among many other worse things which aren’t true, but I’ll pretend are true just to sound cool. However, none of these acts have been homosexual, and that is because of two specific rules on this list. The first of these two rules is this one: girls love it. Look, if I’m in a room with two girls (or more) and another guy, and shit starts to get freaky, I have no worries and I am open to whatever. All the porn I watch is that way anyway, one big mash-up of people of all genders, races, ages and disabilities. Who’s leg is that? Is that her arm? Which hole is that one? Is that even legal? I love that crazy shit man. The point is, it’s not gay, it’s a fucking party, and if some girl is getting pleasure out of it somehow, I'm all for it. Everything I do, I do it for the pussy anyway.

Rule#4: The Show Must Go On
The second of these two rules I previously mentioned is this one: any sexual act between two guys isn’t homo if it is done in front of people. Consider this: pretty much the gayest thing you can do in THE WORLD is to fuck boys in private and keep quiet about it, do you not agree? But if you fuck a boy in front of a load of people, it’s not gay, it’s a performance. And I would recommend this too, because it will FREAK YOUR FRIENDS THE FUCK OUT. However, if you feel this is too much, you can just film it. You are not gay, you are an actor! Bitches love actors.

Having Sex With This Guy Would Not Be Gay
Rule#5: Cross Wires
I imagine the general gay man to be attracted to stuff like stubble, a larger frame, a deep voice, a giant cock... you know, a man. However, if you suddenly find yourself balls deep into a pretty boy who by all means looks like a girl, do not fear! This proves you are even more straight than most men, because (a) you love the look of girls, and (b) you don’t fear penis. Because the fear of penis is directly related to homophobia is directly related to the homosexuality. You’re not gay, you were just a bit confused. The same goes for trannies, because chicks with dicks are still chicks... kinda. To a lesser degree, you could also argue that it’s not gay to fuck a really really hot guy, for example: me. Wanting to fuck me would not be gay, it would be understandable.
Rule#6: Star Above Your Bed
Almost in the same vein, it is definitely not gay if you fuck a celebrity. Personally, I would probably fuck Brian Molko. Or Topher Grace. Or River Phoenix, if he was still alive. Leonardo DiCaprio back in the day. Marilyn Manon just for lols. Johnny Depp, Justin Pearson, Michael Cera, David Bowie, Orlando Bloom, Anthony Kiedis, Zac Efron, Brandon Boyd, Russel Brand, Gerard Way, Paul McCartney... wait, what was I talking about again? Oh yeah, boys. But I’d also fuck Jack Black, Boy George, or Rowan Atkinson... basically any celebrity. Why? It’s about the STORY people. You could even make money off that shit! Even the most homophobic of fucks would have to agree this is quite an achievement, because how the hell do you even manage something like this? Anybody? Please tell me, I need to know. I’m not gay, I just appreciate talent. And I’d be an idiot not to wrangle myself into a rich and famous person’s life, whatever the cost.

Rule#7: Send, Don’t Bend
What’s the difference between putting your willy inside of a girl’s ass or a guy’s ass? A little bit of hair? A lot of hair? Regardless, it is essentially exactly the same thing. Its primary function is to expel poo and it feels warm inside. I would even say that the same goes for blow-jobs. Basically, put your cock into anything that will have it, and the only thing that should stop you is if it’s illegal, unsafe or isn’t going to feel very nice. You are definitely not gay, you just like to ejaculate inside things, and that’s perfectly natural. On the other hand, if you are hiding penises in your bum-bum, or brushing your teeth with cocks daily, you are committing a homosexual act, and homosexual acts are gay.

Rule#8: Gay For Pay
This one ties in with #3 a little bit. There are many porn actors who participate in homosexual videos because it pays better, and then they get better girlfriends cos they buy them shit. This goes for everyone: if someone is paying you to do something sexual, as degrading as it may feel, you are not gay, you just like money. How is money gay? Especially when it’s just for half an hour of your time. And believe me when I say this: EVERYONE has their price.
But on the ugly side of this point (and it’s not very nice), is when the pay is your life. If there is a gun to your head, and you are forced to do some shit you aren’t too keen on, you’re not gay, you were raped. I know this paragraph wasn’t funny (and by God I hope this is never the case for you) but at the end of the day this is another way homosexual sex has taken place without affecting sexuality. And besides, it’s no worries anyway bro, at least you’re straight right? lol.

Rule#9: Sex And Violence
Some of you may disagree about this one, but I reckon that if you fuck a boy, it would justify the homo in you by beating the shit out of the person after ejaculation. This would work especially well if, while smashing the teeth out of their face with your fist, you call them derogatory terms like “Faggot” or “Pansy”, and then spit on them while they look up at you with bloody eyes. And if they whimper “but why?” just tell them that you’re not gay, you’re a macho heterosexual who just fucks boys on occasion mainly to hurt them, and he should just shut-up and get used to it. Actually wait, scrap this one.

Rule#10: Just Do It, You’re Not Gay
Basically, if you need an excuse to fuck a guy, you’re doing it all wrong. Fucking a guy doesn’t make you gay despite what your friends might think. Put it to you this way: if a gay guy fucks a girl (and almost every gay guy I know has done this) does that make him straight? How many girls do you know that have made out with other girls (and more)? Does that make them lesbo? Bisexual? No dude, sexuality is a much more complex thing, defined by a lot more than just actions. If you want to fuck a dude, just get it out your system, you’re not gay.

Conclusion
The truth is, as a white straight young male adult, I feel pretty excluded in life. There is nothing special about me, nothing in my life has ever been a minority. If you’re a black lesbian granny, you are so fucking awesome because you have basically stuck your finger up to life, and the history of your traits has risen from so much oppression that you win at everything and can be seriously proud of yourself. Part of me wishes I was gay, I would be so stoked, I would wear ladies underwear and go to the girl’s bathroom. I’d dress in pink and wear my make-up better than my girlfriends. Being gay is so hot right now. But instead, I am doomed to a life of boob-slavery, because boobs always win. I guess what I am getting at, (and if you remember nothing else from this article, remember this) my girlfriend is and forever will be hotter than yours. Now suck my balls.


Wednesday 27 July 2011

My Mouth


Jared Woods And His Juice Nothing Mouth
I am totally rushing this, because I wasn’t supposed to be here today. I had prior arrangements.

JUICE NOTHING
In fact, I was planning to only write my next blog at the end of August, taking a month off writing to focus on bigger things. I have been slaving away over a short story and another much bigger blog, but due to my little sister visiting my London home all the way from South Africa, I much preferred indulging in other things. Like Love Box Festival. And Thorpe Park. And drinking. Oh how we have laughed and gaily skipped around the London sun which looks a lot like rain.

And then Amy Winehouse died. I won’t go into too much detail here about what this did to me, because I have covered it extensively in my latest blog The 27 Club, but I will say with all modesty that it is one of the best bits I have written this year. And if you don’t read it, I literally BEG you to at least read the conclusion, as that is what I feel is important in a time like this. I also want to point out the beauty of symbolism, as this blog came together on this day, the 27th of July.

Other than that, I noticed how out of date The Future section was. So I rewrote most of it, more accurately stating where I am at and where I am going. One thing I want to quickly talk about is a thing called LU**U*******U*D which I remember talking about at great length near the beginning of 2010, and now it is never going to happen. So I will reveal for the first time here, the uncensored name is: LUNDUNDERGROUND. My plan was to make little comical like collages which presented themselves as a puzzle, each one representing a different tube station. I wanted to sell them to The London Paper, but that died and so did the idea. I didn’t get very far anyway, and only ever half-finished one. See if you can guess the tube station:

Guess The Tube

Give up? Highlight the text below to read what it is:
(Shepard's Bush, duh)

Anyways, most effort lately has been devoted to


COMING DOWN HAPPY
A lot of time has been spent working on this, and yet I am only roughly 24.6% done of the final stretch. It’s such a big project, killing me softly with its songs, but I have been previewing it to some people. Each one have let me fuck them afterwards, so I take that as a very good sign. Maybe next time I will tell you more secret stuff.


THE FUNPOWDER PLOT
Nothing to report here, but literally as I type this a meeting is taking place, so I will deffo have some news for next time, if not, a full video. A big one. A good one.


ALBUM CHARTS
Despite taking a week off this side of J0 this month, July has stacked up and is pretty much up to date. The top ones are brilliant and relatively unknown, so do yourself a favour.

I have also been fine combing February, which is pretty damn near perfect right now, and should be 100% complete in a few days.

I must say, as time has gone on, I have grown to hate this shit. It is putting so much stress into my life that it makes me depressed when I think about it. People close to me are telling me to stop doing it, but I feel I must see it through. It does suck to have that feeling tho, and as a result, I might start taking things a bit slower, if you don’t mind. I mean, just look at it. No one should be listening to that much music. No one.


FORMSPRING
I am taking an indefinite hiatus from Formspring. If you have questions waiting, I am sorry, but as Coming Down Happy became my priority, I knew I had to cut some stuff out, and this was the first to go. I will probably get back on it sometime, but don’t hold your breathe.


And that’s all. Sorry for the rushed nature this was done, but follow me on Twitter and you will get a little bit of Jared everyday. That’s me. I’m Jared.

Jared.


The 27 Club


The 27 Club by Jared Woods
My obsession with The 27 Club began in the mid-90’s with the sudden passing of Kurt Cobain, who had recently and swiftly become my main inspiration for all of my existence. I wanted to grow my hair long, stop showering, and inject heroin into my cock - much like any pre-teenager of that era. Even more than that, it became my goal in life to get famous and die at 27, which at the age of 11, seemed achievable enough. Now, as a 26 year old a few months shy of the age in question, it does seem a little less smart and a lot more complicated. Mainly (or rather, exclusively) because I am not yet famous. But who knows, right? There is still time, and it is a fantastic way to go.

Last Saturday, the first properly recognizable figure in 17 years had joined the ranks among these legends. A group of exclusive individuals, in which the membership fee only entailed three things: (1) You had to create music; (2) A fair amount of people had to be aware of your music; and (3) You had to die at the age of 27. Many musicians have “achieved” this feat (the list actually much longer than most people realise), but there are definitely a select few who are consistently referred to when The Club comes up in conversation. And this new member could very well be one of the right calibre. In case you are struggling, I am talking, of course, about the smooth and sultry voice of one Amy Winehouse, who was announced dead less than a week ago. As one would expect, every single Trending Topic on Twitter was somehow related to the news. It seemed everyone on the Internet had something or other to say about it, as if anyone actually valued their opinion unless they had a verified account. That said, my own opinions are coming soon enough.

But for now, this whole media frenzy has resulted in a somewhat new global awareness of The 27 Club, and in turn, has inspired me to finally finish a piece that I started years ago. This very piece. I wasn’t even planning to write a blog this month at all to be honest. I had nothing to say and I had far too much work to do. But this event shot thoughts all over my brain and heart, and I felt I needed to pay homage to those talented souls who influenced us through their art, and left us alone before they were completely done.

So these are The Big Ones, and Amy, this is for you.


Brian Jones Died By Drowning

BRIAN JONES

28 February 1942 – 3 July 1969

It is somewhat fitting that our story begins with a founding member of one of the biggest rock ‘n roll bands ever to exist, none other than Brian Jones from The Rolling Stones. Brian was a very fancy guy with his multi-instrumental wizardy, and contributed a lot to The Stones’ early recording career, including: the guitar, harmonica, sitar, marimba, keyboards, trumpets, mellotron, xylophone and banjo - to mention a few.

But while this band as a whole were famous for their raw and unique sound, they were just as well-known for their wild partying and problems with the law. This was not uncommon for musicians of the hippie era, but it was always their guitarist Keith Richards who was the prime candidate for complete self-destruction. And yet while Richards is still alive and kicking, it was Brian who took the punches the worst. His passion for all things alcohol, pot, pills, meth and LSD put him in hospital more than once, in jail once, and a hefty load of other serious drug-related law trouble on top of that. As it turns out, none of these things are very good for a person’s well-being, and Brian became introverted and anti-social. His behaviour was erratic and he was known to have terrible mood swings, which put a tense amount of strain on his relationship with the band. The world watched in pain as this once key songwriter had become almost incapable of doing anything - even his gums would bleed when he played harmonica. My favourite quote from this era was when The Rolling Stones were cutting their track You Can’t Always Get What You Want. While the members were finding their place in the song, Jones asked Mick Jagger “What can I play?”, to which Jagger responded "I don't know, Brian, what can you play?"

Due to his legal issues and his disintegrating mental and physical health, Brian was unable to go on tour, and the band felt they had no choice but to kick him out of the band on the 8th of June 1969.

Under a month later (midnight on the 2nd/3rd of July) Brian was found motionless at the bottom of his swimming pool. Despite Anna Wohlin (his then girlfriend) attempting to resuscitate him, he was pronounced dead on arrival; the official cause as "death by misadventure" as his liver very swollen due to years of abuse. His girlfriend was quick to say that this was not the case, claiming a builder who was renovating the house had killed Brian. Some have even stated that the builder (Frank Thorogood) confessed to the murder on his deathbed, and many other anonymous eye-witnesses apparently exist yet never came forward. There was also a load of expensive items missing from the house, but none of this was ever really proven.

Two days later, The Stones played a free concert dedicated to him. Pete Townshend wrote a poem about him, as did Jim Morrison. Jimi Hendrix dedicated a song to him and reportedly Bob Dylan paid for his coffin. He was 27 years old, and at the time, this meant nothing more than yet another rockstar dying far too young. Little did anyone know, Brian was just the first domino to fall.


Jimi Hendrix Choked On His own Vomit

JIMI HENDRIX

November 27, 1942 – September 18, 1970

One year later, it happened again. This time it was the “best guitarist that ever existed”, a title Jimi has been given more times than anybody else in history. And for good reason, as Jimi blasted onto the psychedelic scene just in time, shoving insane riffs of feedback and wah-wah into heads filled with acid, setting the world and his guitar on fire wherever he went. His complex and innovative studio trickery was only second to his live shows, one of the most notable being at Woodstock ‘69, where it is often stated very matter-of-factly that he stole the entire legendary show. His name has been honoured in some of the biggest respects in the industry, namely: induction into the US Rock and Roll Hall of Fame; induction into the UK Music Hall of Fame; a star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame; induction of his album Are You Experienced into the United States National Recording Registry; and being named the number 1 best guitarist of all-time according to Rolling Stone magazine (and many other publications and myself and everyone else.)

But of course, Hendrix had a dark side. He was widely known as an avid LSD user, but he also loved the weed, and had been known to do amphetamines on tour. But alcohol was his real evil, becoming a very angry drunk at the best of times. One girlfriend named Kathy Etchingham claimed that Jimi had beaten her with a phone receiver because he thought she was talking to an ex-boyfriend. Another girlfriend named Carmen Borrero claimed she needed stitches after Jimi hit her with a bottle. I am sure there are other girlfriend stories like this, because Jimi had many, many girlfriends. He had also been arrested a few times, once for wrecking a hotel room under the influence, another when customs found some hash and heroin in his luggage. In his defense, Jimi claimed that he had no idea how it got there and a fan must have slipped it into his suitcase. He was acquitted because this was surely what happened. Surely.

And then one night, boom, niggah dead. The facts have never been entirely clear as to what happened that night, except that poor Jimi suffocated on his own vomit whilst sleeping. Beyond that, it’s purply hazy at best. John Bannister (the surgeon who attended to him) stated that it was red wine Jimi’s throat had regurgitated, but Bannister was already being investigated for another case of malpractice, and he eventually lost his licence in 1992 for fraud. The coroner report contradicts this finding too, claiming that very little alcohol was in Jimi’s system at the time, and none of it could be found in his vomit. For this reason, a more agreed upon story was the one from his then girlfriend Monika Dannemann, who claimed Jimi had taken nine of her prescribed Vesparax sleeping pills unaware of their strength. However, she also claimed that when she found him, he was still breathing, and that she rode with him in the ambulance. The ambulance crew disagrees with this statement, saying that she wasn’t even present when they entered his flat. In fact, Monkia’s story changed so drastically from interview to interview, that it is very difficult to take anything she said seriously whatsoever. Her word has been even further question when, after being found guilty of continuously defaming the character of another one of Jimi’s ex-girlfriends, she committed suicide.

These kinds of circumstances can only spur rumours, and one such rumour was that some lyrics found next to Jimi’s body were in the form of a suicide note. Another even worse rumour was sparked by former Animals roadie James Wright, who wrote a book claiming that Hendrix's manager, Mike Jeffery, confessed to him about murdering Hendrix over a contract issue. While some considered this to be plausible, majority have brushed it off as a publicity stunt to sell the book, and it doesn’t really matter in the end. The world had lost a God.


Janis Joplin Died From A Heroin Overdose

JANIS JOPLIN

January 19, 1943 – October 4, 1970

The very following month, we have the Queen of Rock ‘n Roll and Psychedelic Soul, Ms. Janis Joplin. I didn’t even make those titles up, they are pretty much official, a point strengthened when Rolling Stone magazine ranked Joplin number 46 of the 100 Greatest Artists of All Time, not to mention number 28 of the 100 Greatest Singers of All Time. All this from someone who only released one real solo album in her short lifetime.

But Janis loved her substances as much as any good rockstar should. By the time she had gone solo, she was already injecting about $200 worth of heroin a day. When she was asked to perform at Woodstock ‘69, she got so nervous that she shot the smack, and played so badly that her show was never even included on the documentary or the soundtrack. This was not the only show like this. Besides the junk, Janis had also developed a taste for speed and a huge adoration for what became her signature drink: Southern Comfort. A lot of it.

Three days before her death, Janis recorded one of her best known tracks Mercedes Bends, along with a birthday greeting to John Lennon (which he hauntingly only received after her death). The former track was for her up-and-coming album Pearl, which she was very excited about, and scheduled a return to the studio the following Sunday to record some more of her distinct vocals. When the usually punctual Janis didn’t turn up for the session, producer Paul A. Rothchild grew concerned and went over to her place to check on her. It was there that her body was discovered, dead on the floor next to her bed. She had overdosed on heroin.

Unlike her fellow 27 Club Members, there is very little conspiracy surrounding her passing. However, it's well known that Janis was a very lonely girl, once stating that “On stage I make love to twenty five thousand people; and then I go home alone.” This weekend had been especially emotional for her as she found out that her coke-dealer boyfriend had been entertaining some ladies at her house that he had just met, which upset her even more because he had broken a promise to spend the previous night with her. One of her best friends Peggy Caserta regrettably admitted that she too had blown off Janis the same night before. These two friends abandoning her coupled with her drug dealer giving her a much higher quality gear than usual (a few of his other clients had overdosed that week) was probably the reason why she put just a little bit too much into her veins that time. Peggy Caserta blamed the dealer very publicly in a book she wrote, which angered the guy so much that he sent someone to kill Casterta. The intruder got the wrong girl though, and ended up stabbing Caserta’s friend instead, who luckily did make a full recovery.

All these things aside, the music world shook, especially because it was such a high profile death only 16 days after Mr. Hendrix had kicked it. Her inspiration ran thick, being the main influence on people like Fleetwood Mac’s Stevie Nicks and Aerosmith’s Steve Tyler. Leonard Cohen and The Grateful Dead’s Jerry Garcia each wrote a song about her. She was inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame in 1995, and was given a Grammy Lifetime Achievement Award in 2005. But her greatest legacy came in the form of the posthumously released album Pearl, considered her greatest, ranking number 122 on Rolling Stone magazine's 500 Greatest Albums Of All Time. It also went straight to number 1 on the Billboard 200, where it stayed FOREVER. I might be thinking about something else though.


Jim Morrison Had A Heart-Attack Or Something

JIM MORRISON

December 8, 1943 – July 3, 1971

Less than a year later, a true shooting star tore the sky in two, completely on fire and leaving a trail of destruction behind it, only to disappear as fast as it had come. It was a bright light, blinding and then leaving you before you even registered it existed. But you would never forget it. I’m talking, of course, of one of the greatest, most charismatic, influential, iconic, and pioneering performers and poets in history: The Lizard King himself, Mr. Mojo Rising, the one, the only, the Jim Morrison.

Morrison rose to superstardom as the frontman and lead lyricist of The Doors, who by the end of 1967 were one of the biggest bands in the USA, and impressively released 6 (generally) critically acclaimed albums in only 4 years. What have you done in that time? Nothing.

But as one would expect (it was imperative to the nature of Jim’s character) the guy had an ego of note. He saw himself as somewhat of a prophet (or shaman, rather), and was known to take loads of acid, reportedly living on canned beans and LSD for years before The Doors had even grouped together. Which I’m sure didn’t help the personality complex in the slightest. But who can blame him really? He was super good looking, and said things of such a deep nature that one could only assume he was Jesus, or something equally as blasphemous.

It didn’t take long until Jim started to show up to recording sessions and gigs completely wasted, and often very late. Bored of his sex-symbol status (which he felt devalued his urgent message), he had started to gain a lot of weight, grew a beard and dressed more casually. His performances became more erratic, as he attempted to spark riots, harassed the security and allegedly exposed himself once too. That particular incident lead to many legal issues with the man, which were never officially resolved.

Because before they could be, Morrison was found dead in his bathtub, in Paris 1971. There was no evidence of foul play, resulting in no autopsy being performed, which in hindsight was a mistake as it left many questions unanswered. Generally believed to be a heart-attack brought on by a mix of heroin and cocaine, Pamela Courson (his girlfriend) became the main source of information on the situation, and yet her account varies each time she tells it. She has often claimed she killed Jim, having taken the same drugs and nodding out whilst Morrison was puking up blood (which he was known to do anyway), resulting in his death. Another rumour was that Jim actually overdosed in a bathroom at the Rock 'n' Roll Circus nightclub, causing his dealers to panic, hastily dumping his body in his apartment and then swearing to secrecy. But the most delicious rumour of all stemmed from Jim’s fascination with faking his own death, which is something he had expressed interest in for many years. These ideas were fuelled further when nobody could attest to actually seeing the corpse, and when The Doors' own drummer John Densmore publicly exclaimed that "the grave is too short!" at the funeral. Even their keyboardist May Manzarek said that if anyone could pull it off - Jim could. It was also a little strange that the news only hit the media 6 days after he had died, which would be the right amount of time to sort out all the finer details. Of course, these notions sent the public into a bit of a mass-hysteria, and Jim was sighted many times all over the world almost immediately. We are still awaiting his official return.

Regardless, his legacy is massive, becoming the biggest influence on many superstars, to the likes of Iggy Pop from The Stooges, Eddie Vedder from Pearl Jam, Layne Staley from Alice in Chains and Julian Casablancas from The Strokes. He was also ranked 47 on Rolling Stone's 100 Greatest Singers of All Time, and 22 on Classic Rock Magazine's 50 Greatest Singers In Rock. The Doors as a unit were inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame in 1993, and 3 of their albums were included on the Rolling Stone list of The 500 Greatest Albums of All Time (their debut at number 42). He was also once the face of some German stamps, which is a pretty cool place to be, so I guess it all turned out alright or something?


Anyway, at this point of our story, The 27 Club was in full public consciousness. Within 2 years (exactly, to the date!) 4 champions of 60’s rock had passed tragically at the same age, and the phenomenon was forever cemented into rock history. Some believe that it ends here too, as their strict definition of The Club includes the short time between these occurrences. And, to their credit, it did seem like it was over as fast as it had begun. Because, besides many minor characters joining the ranks, no one was at the level of The Big Four, and the story was somewhat forgotten in later generations. This is because the more modern day heroes are pussies, too afraid to indulge in the excessive nature a rockstar should experience by default, as it was in the late 60's/early 70's. That was, of course, until


KURT COBAIN

February 20, 1967 – April 5, 1994

Born merely 2 years before the death of Brian Jones, we have the most recognizable member of recent decades. So much so, I hardly feel it’s necessary to relay his story to you, but I will anyway. He was the singer/primary songwriter for Nirvana, a band who has been known for changing the alternative scene permanently, by inventing grunge, popularizing depression, and single handedly leading the 90’s by its throat. The album Nevermind, just for example, topped almost every critics’ top list of the decade; it has been placed in the National Recording Registry; and was at number 17 on Rolling Stone's list The 500 Greatest Albums of All Time.

None of this sat well with Kurt, because he was a bit of a miserable cunt, and he didn’t want to be the voice of the generation because he didn’t have all that much to say. This, coupled with terrible stomach pains, lead Kurt into a deep depression. He was diagnosed with ADD at a very early age, and bi-polar at a later age, not to mention mental illness ran in the family as two of his uncles had committed suicide by shotgun. Kurt battled these demons with drugs, having a big taste for alcohol, pot, and LSD, but eventually settled on his lifelong romance with heroin.

In the meantime, Nirvana continued to thrive, Cobain continued to struggle, and in 1994 (after a stint in rehab) Cobain’s dead body was found in his green house, head blown off with a shotgun which lay on his chest. There was a mess, there was a note, and there was REM’s Automatic For The People in the stereo. I remember this day. It shook almost every teenager and young adult in the world, and the pain felt in the music industry was undeniable, comparable only to the likes of Presley or Lennon. Some people were next-level distraught, and they committed suicide themselves, which is as sad and pathetic as it is touching and even a little beautiful. But who didn’t see it all coming? He was a self loathing junkie with a chronic illness, shoved into a height of fame without any coping tools, and so a suicide like this was predictable and a black-and-white open-and-shut case. Right?

Well, depends on who you speak to. The conspiracy theories surrounding this 27 Club Member are possibly the strongest of them all, a menacing story revolving around the theory that Courtney Love had hired someone to kill her husband, who was looking to divorce her. The “evidence” is intriguing to say the least, and some of the highlights are as follows: he was on so much heroin at the time that it might have been difficult for him to operate the weapon; the “suicide note” had very little reference to an actual suicide; parts of the handwriting were “inconclusive” to Kurt’s own handwriting; the brisk process in which the incident was ruled as a suicide left for very little investigation; there were no fingerprints on the shotgun; many of his friends said he was in good spirits in his last days; Courtney Love had reportedly tried to hire someone to kill Kurt before the episode; and much much more. The list of people who believe it was a homicide is extensive, and include Kim Gordon of Sonic Youth, Kurt’s godfather and Courtney’s ex-husband James Moreland from The Leaving Trains, who said Courtney had threatened him with the same fate before. For more information, check this site out: Justice For Kurt

What do I think? Nothing. I don’t think. It’s not healthy to give too much belief into these conspiracy things - it will drive you crazy. And like, what you gonna do? You gonna solve the fucking thing? No. But I will admit, it is very plausible, and much like those who came before Kurt in this tale, it is a very interesting little twist on his premature death. But suicide or not, one thing that always stood out for me was a quote from his sister, Kimberly Cobain, who claimed that Kurt had always admired The 27 Club, and expressed interest in joining it.


And he did. And that was that. Over 20 years later, and without argument, The Big 4 had become The Big 5. And since then, there has never been anyone to remotely scratch the surface or even cause a debate amongst The 27 Club experts. That is, until last Saturday.


AMY WINEHOUSE

14 September 1983 – 23 July 2011

As far as being synonymous with modern train-wrecks go, no celebrity has shit on two young Brits, namely Pete Doherty (who just got out of jail) and Amy Winehouse. But while both of these stars were immensely popular tabloid material due to their reckless everyday decision making, Amy reached a height of recognition that Doherty could only dream of. Her awards include (but are not limited to): 1 Brit Award, 2 Echo Awards, 3 Ivor Novello Awards; 1 MOJO Award; 1 MTV Europe Award; 2 NME Awards; 1 Q Award; 1 World Music Award; and 5 Grammy Awards. This alone places her in a very different sort of league than all the entries before her, at very least when alive.

But even if you wish to disagree with that, you cannot deny that she was in the same league as all of them as far as her personal life was concerned. Her domestic violence issues with ex-husband and current convict Blake Fielder-Civil were well documented, the two often shown in the press covered in cuts and bruises. She attributed her appearance to self-harm (which she was known to do) as well as an eating disorder, but she also admitted to becoming very violent when drunk. And of course, there were the drugs, and she knew them all. According to her father, she had smoked so much crack that she had developed emphysema. In 2007 she was hospitalized for an overdose of heroin, ecstasy, cocaine, ketamine and alcohol. That same year she was arrested on a marijuana charge, and again the next year for slapping a man in the face. In 2009 she was accused of punching a woman, spitting on another, and then was arrested later again for a separate incident of assault. All the while she was in and out of rehab, her final attempt being one week at the Priory Clinic on the 25th of May, 2011.

And then on the 23rd of July, Winehouse was found dead at her Camden home by her security guards. I purposefully held out writing this blog for as long as I could, hoping that some clarity on the reasons for her death would surface, but the first autopsy proved inconclusive. However (and it would be nice to be wrong), it seems fairly obvious this was a drug related death, and statements released by Russel Brand among many others seemed pretty convinced that this was the case. While we wait for an official verdict, some even more interesting stories have been released by the press, including some from her former stylist and flatmate Alex Foden. He was quick to point out Amy's generous nature (having paid for Alex to go to rehab himself), but also shared details on her £1000 a day habit (which he did say had improved in recent times). He also told of a time when Amy swallowed £300 worth of heroin wraps just to smuggle them into the Caribbean. But most interesting of all was when Alex explained to reporters that "Amy always told me she thought she would die young and that she knew she'd become a part of the 27 Club,” much like Kurt had.

So far (as with her female 27 counterpart) there are no insane conspiracy theories just yet, but suicide has been pondered by a few.

Jared Woods Outside Amy Whinehouse's House
Already U2 have dedicated a song to Amy in concert, and MIA released an entire new song devoted to the star. Almost every celebrity on Twitter has paid their digital respects, including George Michael, Katy Perry, Ashton Kutcher, Eva Longoria, Rihanna, Moby, and of course, her producer Mark Ronson who said “she was my musical soulmate & like a sister to me. this is one of the saddest days of my life.” Microsoft were a little less sensitive, urging fans to download her Back to Black album for free on their website. People didn’t like that. But the greatest tribute of all was at Amy’s house, where fans wrote on the road signs, posted notes on trees, left guitars and filled the road with portraits, flowers, cigarettes and alcohol - which (like it or not) was so Amy in the true spirit of Amy. I was “lucky” enough to be outside her house only 2 days after her passing, and the somber mood was unlike anything I’ve ever experienced before. So many people; candles flickering in silence; sadness all around; and yet a touching aura surrounded these fans who recognized her as the broken angel she was. Now get ready for the record label to rape her reportedly massive catalogue of unreleased material. Meh.

Of course, one common thought that seemed strewn across my social feeds (and no one can really disagree with this) is that there was some degree of inevitably surrounding the death of someone who built a reputation of being off the rails (especially when watching her recent painful performances at Belgrade). But as an optimist (and due to the general fairy tale hope most of us have when looking up at the stars) I had the best hopes for poor Amy. I mean, she had literally just come out of The Priory rehab, she had almost finished her third record, and her recovery seemed somewhat promising on paper. Unfortunately, this was not the case, and I for one have been heartbroken these last few days. I had such a soft spot for her which seems to have amplified in her absence, which is understandable. She was inspirational to many female artists well before her death, who (by their own admission) include Adele, Duffy and Lady Gaga. Jay-Z himself stated years ago that Amy had managed to almost exclusively revitalise British music. So despite the sadness most of us feel now, we can pin-point some pride in the fact that she is now officially cemented as a legend, forever. Only time will tell to what extent, but all of this is out of our hands, and hers.

The debate now screaming throughout the Internets is the question: Why should Amy be included in The Big 5, complicating it to The Big 6 (a much less of a rounded number)? What makes Amy deserving of such a legendary title when her musical weight is still not as obvious as those who came before her? The argument stands strong from both sides, and the main point against her inclusion is that, yeah, she was by no means as influential as any of the other artists we have already spoken about here. But my vote is a definite “yes, let’s put her in”. I feel strongly about this because she is a much bigger and more popular star than any of the lesser 27 members who missed The Big List, and she doesn’t deserve to be lost among them. And while The Big Stars may seem bigger, you have to remember how much of this stardom escalated after their deaths, the consequence of Amy’s still being uncertain. And when you compare her to the likes of, say, Kurt Cobain, it isn’t that far off. Nirvana’s peak was 1991, Kurt died 3 years later. Amy’s peak was 2006, dying 5 years later. It's not that different. Further more, both of these artists technically only had 2 successful studio albums (Bleach wasn't commercially successful, Incesticide was a b-side album, Unplugged was live) and yet it was Amy’s final album which gained her the most recognition, which proves her time was far from up. Another interesting point was that Spin magazine’s music editor Charles Aaron was quoted years ago as saying "Amy Winehouse was the Nirvana moment for all these women”, which is extremely interesting in context of recent events. And then if you compare her to, say, Brian Jones, who’s peak had most definitely come and gone, you might even say she deserves it more than him. And finally, by very definition, you cannot deny the pure rockstar power Amy embodied. Not by genre, given, but by her lifestyle, as she was as insane and as self-dangerous as all of them - if not then more so.

There are no official rules to The Big Members of The 27 Club, only a public debate that doesn’t turn into a voting system but rather gets decided after time. But seeing as most publications including The Guardian; TIME and Forbes have already placed her at the top, I feel I can say with all clarity: Amy Winehouse, welcome as The 6th Big Member of The 27 Club. You are now a legend among legends, my girl, and you will be missed greatly.


The 27 Club Conclusion
CONCLUSION

In times of a big celebrity death, I am always reminded of the insensitivity a large portion of the human race has. While the majority of Tweets and Facebook posts I have read were saddened by the musical loss, there will always be those who feel a need to poke fun at the situation. Almost immediately, I heard Amy being labeled an idiot: a junkie who brought it upon herself and it shouldn’t be a surprise to anyone. The jokes about “Re-hab” this and “No, no, no” that were as tasteless as they were far too obvious, and not really funny if you think about it. I mean, I did hear some funny ones, but I hardly feel like this is the place.

I am reminded of the recent passing of one Ryan Dunn, that crazy guy from Jackass. Everyone was quick to point fingers at his drunk driving, calling him a fool as if he deserved his early passing at age 34. It is here where I must remind you that dying from addiction, suicide or any type of misbehaviour is a no less tragic than your usual ways to go. People who loved, and people who were loved, are left behind. Families and friends still mourn and feel the pain without the need of heartless kids who have no idea what or who they are talking about. I have lost a friend to cocaine overdose, and I have come to realise there are just certain people in the world who are special. People we should envy more than frown upon, who lived fast and died young. These people are in many ways better than you. While you play it safe and make sure you don’t misstep onto something that might hurt you, you end up dying anyway, even if it is considered a “safe” way to die. But the minority of whom run with flailing arms and voices screaming, unafraid of death and willing to take it head-on, truly understand the thrill and blessing we have with this life. And that is nothing to look down upon. Particularly in the entertainment business, this is even more important, as their whole lives become a source of interest to us. And I for one believe that the entertainment industry is the most important industry in the world. Whilst it's overrated in the way we place these normal human beings on pedestals, it is underrated in the way that we forget how much we NEED these people to escape the 9-5 mundane life we otherwise experience. And the truth is: you know who they are, they don’t know who you are, and they have achieved more than you ever will. So who is the real loser here? The known who dies? Or the unknown who has a weightless opinion just like everyone else?

However, there was one more intelligent remark that was less frequent but still floating around in the air of this news. It was the fact that the attention on the star’s death overshadowed the mass murdering by Anders Behring Breivik in Norway. The day before Amy died, this man placed a bomb in Oslo which killed 7 people, and then 2 hours later (disguised in a police uniform), he traveled to the Utøya island and opened fire on a youth summer camp, killing up to 80 people, mostly teenagers. This is horrific by any opinion, and one could never say that Amy’s death was anywhere near this magnitude. However, I am reminded of the quote “The Death Of One Is A Tragedy, The Death Of Millions Is Just A Statistic” which is very applicable here. It all depends on what is more important to you: Politics or Entertainment. Neither choice is more right or wrong, but I personally lean towards the latter. My reasoning is as follows: while more deaths had occurred in Norway, I never think of Norway and have only given them a thought now due to this terrible massacre. I had never even heard of Oslo or Utøya, had you? Amy Winehouse, on the other hand, crossed my mind fairly often, I’d say at least every month when I visited Camden; when her face was in the newspaper; when her song came on the radio; or just when I felt like some great Soul Pop. She was in my brain, as she was in yours

I think if we wish to focus on those terrible acts of violence in Norway, it is only fair to then spare a thought for those millions who have lost their lives in war in recent times, all over the world, even right now. And these deaths were not from the hands of “mad men” but our nations’ leaders. What is the fucking difference? I don’t like thinking about these things. Because while politics or religion is hardly ever filled with good news, entertainment is designed to give us hope and make us smile, allowing us to latch onto a feeling someone created for us, showing us the beauty in life the newspapers choose not to. Think of all the people who fell in love with their partner for the first time while listening to Amy; the people who fucked each other for the first time while listening to Amy; the couples who use Amy’s music to represent their relationship; or even to dance to at their wedding. I mean, the last thing I want to do is undermine the Norway murders, as they will certainly be placed in history somewhere, much like those High School shoot-ups, terrible diseases or natural disasters that have left scars in our psyche. But another incident just like this will take place very soon (mark my words) while a death like Amy's only happens once every 17 years or so, as we have just discussed. Think about it: music has the potential to touch millions in a much more positive way; to bring people together in song and dance; or yes, even save a life which had nowhere else to turn. What it comes down to is that we have lost an artist who gave us joy and distractions, and for this reason we cannot place an incident that will be lost among all the other mass tragedies, above the death of one artist who will forever be remembered for her contribution to music. We must mourn both, for both are a loss for the world.

But I guess all of this opposition, questioning, and even the nastiness and cruel joking, is human nature. People like to think they are funny when, in time of a famous death, they are shocking and blunt, brushing off a troubled individual as someone less than human. And I guess that is your right as a contributor to the global consciousness. Nobody can stop you, and there are many more just like you. But know this: if you have disregarded Amy Winehouse’s death as a joke, I hope your entire family and future kids die as crackheads as soon as possible, all the while the whole fucking world laughs at your misfortune. And believe me, they will. Goodbye.



Some Lesser Known 27 Club Members Like Robert Johnson and Richey James Edwards
OTHER NOTABLE 27 CLUB MEMBERS

Robert Johnson
May 8, 1911 – August 16, 1938
One of the most criminally overlooked members who influenced almost every blues songwriter ever, murdered by strychnine poison. Often considered the very first member as well as one of the best cases of someone selling their soul to Satan.

Ron "Pigpen" McKernan
September 8, 1945 – March 8, 1973
One of the founding members of The Grateful Dead, playing keyboard and dying of gastrointestinal hemorrhage.

Dave Alexander
June 3, 1947 – February 10, 1975
Bassist for The Stooges, dying from pancreatitis due to excessive drinking.

Pete Ham
27 April 1947 – 24 April 1975
Good friends of The Beatles and prime songwriter for Badfinger, Pete hung himself due to personal and financial issues.

D. Boon
April 1, 1958 – December 23, 1985
Guitarist and vocalist for Minutemen, dying from a broken neck in a car accdient.

Pete de Freitas
2 August 1961–14 June 1989
Drummer for Echo & the Bunnymen, died due to motorcycle accident.

Richey James Edwards
22 December 1967 - 1 February 1995 (presumed deceased)
One of the highly debated should-be-shouln’t-be members of The Big 27’s, Richey was the guitarist and lyricist from The Manic Street Preahcers. The main reason for his exclusion was that he just went missing, and was never found again. I wrote more about Richey on my blog The Top 20 Naughtiest Musicians, Ever.

Jeremy Michael Ward
May 5, 1976 – May 25, 2003
Sound technician and vocal operator for The Mars Volta, dying from heroin overdose less than a month before their debut was released.

Bryan Ottoson
1978 - 2005 (not famous or talented enough to have his own wikipedia article)
Guitarist from American Head Charge, died from an accidental prescription drug overdose.

There are many more, most of which have been noted here.

Wednesday 29 June 2011

Toe Cleavage


Juice Nothing Talks To Cleavage
Believe it or not, when I originally made the decision to start Juice Nothing and write blogs for my billions of fans, the first topic I ever wanted to tackle was toe cleavage. I felt it was the right kind of important yet fairly unspoken about to be my first release. But I got cold feet, so to speak, and wrote about the birth of Jesus instead.

But now, over a year and a half later, I have decided that the time has come to produce my quick thoughts on the subject. And ever since Twitter came about, all my thoughts are quick.

When you live in London, you see a lot of people. I get off a train, walk through Liverpool Street Station, and get on another train twice a day, during peek traffic. This means I literally see thousands of people pretty much everyday of my life, none of whom I ever recognize.

It’s fascinating as it is annoying, and in these situations I tend to try and amuse myself as best I can. That’s when this observation came about. Toe cleavage. Was it on purpose? Was it a crime of fashion? Do these people even realise what they are doing? What is the meaning of it all??

At this point, I know some people would be asking if I have some kind of a foot-fetish. And the truth is, I have an everything fetish. No part of a woman doesn’t turn me on, so just think about that next time I look at you.

Now, there are four kinds of toe cleavage. The first being none at all, which is nice, but useless for the topic on hand. The second (and much more interesting) is the most subtle form of toe cleavage. Maybe just one or two creases, the pinkie and ring-toe, peeking ever so slightly out the top of shoe. This is HOT, and I am not alone in thinking so. In fact, it is recommended by many stylists, including Spanish fashion designer Manolo Blahnik, who said that "the secret of toe cleavage (a very important part of the sexuality of the shoe) is that you must only show the first two cracks." It’s sexually suggestive, much like traditional cleavage, and I salute any female who embraces this style on purpose.

Then there is the third type of toe cleavage, which is also known as “a LOT of toe cleavage”, every toe making itself present with 4 lines sticking out from the shoe. This only works if you have super nice feet (and let's face it, you don't) otherwise it is a bit overkill for me. What's the matter honey, did they not have it in your size? Or do you not realise what you have done? That said, there are probably tons of guys who get off on it, but then again tons of guys get off on granny poo too. For me none of this really works.

Finally, there is the proper mess, and I have only ever really seen this once. This rather large African lady had shoved her foot into a shoe like a pack of sausages into a shot glass. There were toes bursting out everywhere, her pinkie itself was fully showing, squashed almost underneath her foot as if it was deformed. Maybe it was. I mean, why wear the shoe at all? I CAN SEE YOUR ENTIRE FOOT AND IT LOOKS PAINFUL AND DISGUSTING.

And I hope with that, you feel more conscious about toe cleavage. Look out for it on the next escalator. Decide what you like. Judge people by how much of their toes you can see. Put them into a categories. Put yourself into a category. Think about this for the rest of the day.

With that, here’s this:


JUICE NOTHING
First things first, I put a little roof onto the website's header, do you like it? I love it! For a year or something, those two yellow characters seemingly floating in mid-air bothered the shit out of me. But now I feel like I can leave that be for a while, thank god, especially with the introduction of another character you may recognize.

Second of all, a new blog was just launched called “The Best Songs Of 2011 So Far (according to me)". I am very happy with it because I have finally figured out a secret formula to writing a new style of reviews, which will serve me until I die. Stoked.

Besides that, I have the working of 4 other blogs in progress, ideas for millions of others, and have got pretty far with the rough draft of my next short story. It’s going to be a harsh one.


THE FUNPOWDER PLOT
Literally a few days after the last news piece, we launched our video The First Date. The response has been thrilling to say the least, and here I will reveal for the first time what is exactly going on. Basically, I have a “chronic eating disorder” or so they say, called Rumination Syndrome. What this means is that my guts want to puke after every meal, but it doesn’t stink or taste like puke, and is quite effortless. I told my girlfriend Lizzie about this, and she said she would eat it if what I said was true. I had the idea to film it. A few discussions and a load of jelly later, we had this clip, filmed in less than an hour, post-production in less than 2 days. It recently hit 1000 views on YouTube, meaning: more hits than any other video we’ve done, besides that David Lynch one.

But with great awesomness comes great plagiarism, and within 24 hours, some guy stole half of the video to promote his company ClassiPhix. In fury, we pulled the weight of our friends together and shut it down in 35 minutes. Take a look by clicking this:

It's a bit boring, but still, I would like to thank everyone who helped us out, you guys rock my world. Honestly, it was one the most beautiful things I’ve ever seen, and proves the power of social networking once again.

Anyways, it seems the hibernation period for us is over, and everyone in the FPP (including Loose who is back from the battle in Austria (he didn’t win)) have been actively discussing our next move, which will be the first project where everyone will play a major role. Excited is an understatement, hopefully it will get done in the next 2 months at most. Gonna be a biggie.


HELP JARED WOODS MEET LILY ALLEN
So as I mentioned last time, I had news, which was an interview on Belgium Radio about this project. It was a little bit awkward for me, and in hindsight it does sound like they thought I knew Lily personally, but it’s a small dream come true and you can listen to it here:



I thought this was going to propel me into stardom, but instead, I got a 14 extra hits on my website. The power of modern radio huh? Blergh, back to the drawing board.


COMING DOWN HAPPY
I have been working SUPER hard on this and I can say that if my progress was a circle with 2 points heading in opposite directions, they are finally turning the corner to face each other. I have also set-up a specific way of measuring my progress based on a heavy equation, and I can say with almost full surety that I have 17.5% complete of the final stretch. Which looks real small, I know, but it will only get faster, and especially the final 15% will be done in a few days, I think. I don’t have a deadline any more, I can’t rush this, but I am hoping to get it done before October. September. December. End of 2011 at max. But it's better than anything I have ever done before ever, including being born.


ALBUM CHARTS
Things are still going strong, passed 300 albums the other day which is great! I also went back and fine-combed the January section, which meant re-listening, reordering and rereviewing every single one of them, resulting in a much more accurate list. To give you some idea, Cape Dory by Tennis went up 34 places. I also lowered the quality for all of Jan’s images, leaving it uglier but with a much faster loading time. I have started this process for February too now. Loads of fun mate. Loads of fun.


FORMSPRING
As if everything above isn’t enough, I did manage to answer one formspring question. And despite the lack of response, it is one of my favourites of all time, and don’t be surprised if I make a comic of it one day. Read it here:
Madonna vs. Lady Gaga: Street Fighter Style!


Shew, I think that’s it. I am not sure when the next update will be because my little sister is coming to stay with me for the whole of July, and I don't know if writing blogs would be enough entertainment for her. But I'm sure I can get some shit done.
As per usual, follow me on Twitter (I’m really funny) and check back next time for more stuff I say.

Love Jared
(and I know you do)

Tuesday 28 June 2011

Best Songs Of 2011 So Far (according to me)

1st of January to 1st of July

Not to sound dramatic or anything, but there are two tragedies involved with the writing of this blog. They are:

Tragedy number 1: This list is far from perfect (as anything based around an opinion that could change tomorrow would be). I refused to get caught up in this one, and didn’t research popular opinions or hide behind the stuff critics have already said. The majority of these songs were off the top of my head with no help from anyone, for better or for worse. It was also really hard to narrow it down to 20, I can’t tell you how close I was to doing 30, and how my heart ached as I dropped some of them off. Songs are people too you know, and I hope the neglected ones forgive me.

Tragedy number 2: Even though this is from the 1st of January to the 1st of July, there won’t be a second part. If anything, this is the prequel to the Top 50 Albums of 2011 blog, which will be out in December. I am so sorry about this, but I am simply one man with almost 10 fingers who isn’t getting paid for any of this. But if you wish to pay me (and I urge you to do so), I will write anything you want. Anything. Try me.

Anyways, 18 out of these 20 songs can be found on my Spotify playlist Best Songs Of 2011 (01 Jan - 01 July), and even more on my extended version here (UK only) which I have crafted just for you. Educate yourself sweetie, starting right neow:



20. tUnE-yArDs - My Country

Album: W H O K I L L (19 April)
Art Pop

Once upon a tUnE-yArDs forum, I read someone ask “What do you mean she’s not black?” I was quite offended and taken aback by that comment. Because like... what do you mean she’s not black?? Turns out they were right too - she's not. But one thing is for certain: she is black on the inside. No white person could possibly have such thumping rhythms coupled with this kind of original quirkiness, which (race aside) is quite unlike anything I have ever heard before. Each second drops something cooler than the last second, layered with varied instrumentation, and proving once again that the worst thing about living a lie is just wondering when they'll find out. Except when they actually do find out.




19. Yelle - Safari Disco Club

Album: Safari Disco Club (14 March)
French Electropop

Yo, what do you get if Electropop impregnates Africa, and then the baby is born in France? Give up? I'm talking about this song, duh, what the fuck else would I be talking about? I mean, sure, I don't understand a word she is saying, but man, when I’m alone this song makes me bounce around like I’m all trippin' and shit. It’s a weird sort of fun, like that instant stick when you step on bubblegum from the mouth of the hottest girl in school. You don't tell anyone, but you keep that gum in a secret place to remind you of what it is you don't have. What?
Watch real music video here, it's awesome.




18. Radiohead - Lotus Flower

Album: The King Of Limbs (18 February)
Glitch Pop

I have an issue with this song. It’s just that every time someone plays it, I jump up, put on a hat and begin to dance like an epileptic octopus. I actually went to a support group for it, apparently its quite common, and we can all blame Thom Yorke and this (somewhat) solo-effort he has put out. Filled with tinkering layers and pitter-pattering rhythm, it’s covered in sounds without stepping on its own toes. Minimal but not stripped, obscure and doomy, captivating and dream-like, slow and trippy, building you up, droning you down, artistic like only Radiohead know how... and I better stop there. My therapist advised me to stop thinking about this track, it's bad for my heart.




17. REKS - 25th Hour

Album: Rhythmatic Eternal King Supreme (08 March)
East Coast Hip-hop

Look, basically, if you weren’t born on the streets, you just won’t get it. You see, the East Coast hood I grew up in, you had to be street-wise. If you wanted to be a gangster, you had to talk fast but not walk too fast, and you had to know there was no school without old school. Do you know what I am saying? You needed flow man. You needed grime. You needed to be massive. You needed to bounce your head with a straight face, otherwise you wouldn’t SURVIVE player. You get me? Yeah? Then get the fuck out my face.




16. Danger Mouse & Daniele Luppi - Two Against One (feat. Jack White)

Album: Rome (17 May)
Indie Rock; Operatic Pop

I relate to this song. You see, what most of you don’t know is that I was once a cowboy. That is, until the fateful day I passed a mirror and saw myself giving myself a disrespectful smirk. It was hypnotic, and I approached it as I sang acoustic songs to myself, fingers creeping around like little spiders, but never breaking eye contact. I decided right then and there that I didn’t want to be a cowboy any more, and I left the scene for good. I was 8 years old.
Please note that the above video is not official.




15. Jessica Lea Mayfield - Run Myself Into The Ground

Album: Tell Me (08 February)
Alt-Country

WARNING: THE ABOVE VIDEO IS NOT THE FUCKING REAL VERSION, IT DOESN'T EXIST ON YOUTUBE, PLEASE LISTEN TO THE ONE THAT MATTERS HERE FOR FUX SAKE ARGH
I don’t know why Jessica, but you are making me feel guilty here. I want to help you. I want you to help me help you. You have so much soul, so much power, but you sound so sad - surely we can work it out? Why are you stringing my gut along like this? With your oh-so-fancy country flirtations and your pure-tear-jerking-genuine-vocal-brilliance... Why? Huh? Why are you doing this to me? And you want to know what's really fucked up? I am actually proud of you Jess. You just seem... stronger now. Almost better without me. You’re standing on your own two feet and you are giving women all around the world a reason to stop washing dishes and leave the kitchen. I will wash your dishes for you Jessica. I will do anything for you. Please take me back.




14. Nicolas Jaar - Space is Only Noise If You Can See

Space Is Only Noise (14 February)
Microhouse

I’m pretty sure that if you missed your train back to earth and you were forced to spend a night floating in orbit, this is what you would listen to. Like being in the biggest open space possible and yet writhing in claustrophobia, you would have no choice but to grab a calculator and fix yourself; read the news; and watch your clock baby, watch your clock. I mean, space is only noise if you can see, right? It’s a weird situation to be in, that's what I’m trying to say.
(On a side note, every time that bass kicks in, I don’t know whether to go to sleep or pack my bag and run away from home. Does anyone else get that?)




13. PJ Harvey - The Glorious Land

Album: Let England Shake (14 February)
Alternative Singer/Songwriter; Chamber Pop

I need to take what I call a “serious moment” here. There was a lot of inner turmoil when it came to selecting this song because the whole album is just so fucking good. I felt I had to represent PJ somehow as she is in the forefront of 2011 right now, but while this is the first single, I can't express enough that it's not necessarily the best song. There isn't one. Because, I swear, if England itself grew legs, picked up a guitar and rented some studio time - stuff like this would be its lo-fi offering. Short marches through damp stone alley ways, it feels hauntingly patriotic as if in time of war, drunk with mood under grey skies with soldiers echoing “What is the glorious fruit of our land?” The fruit is deformed children. A call-and-response, bellowing out to the sound of a bugle declaring battle. Oh America! Oh England! Did I mention she sounds a bit like a witch? Ah, forget it, you will never understand how I feel about this shit.




12. Battles - Ice Cream

Album: Gloss Drop (06 June)
Experimental Rock

Have you ever eaten too much Ice Cream? Yeah, I have. It’s like a chaotic yet still user-friendly sex-feeling which builds up inside of you, especially if you have a deeper appreciation for the stuff. Mmmm, and then before you know it, you are naked in public, nothing but your headphones on, jumping around excitedly while you shout lyrics which no one else can understand. But everyone knows you are the party. Everyone knows you are the most fun. Court date still pending.




11. Anna Calvi - Blackout

Album: Anna Calvi (17 January)
Alternative Singer/Songwriter; Art Pop

Something about this song reminds me of religion. I get images of a sinister Santa and shit, rolling down a gothic hallway towards me. Or soaring above my head, but never quite striking... leaving me hanging. There is something stunning about that image, I think. An almost warmth with a cold center swirling around inside of you, covered in layers of evil which is brilliantly disguised by the most superb vocal composition. Yeah. That’s what this song reminds me of.




10. Dumbo Gets Mad - Harmony

Album: Elephants At The Door (02 February)
Psychedelic Pop

I’m not sure if this story is technically true or not, but it is truly something. I heard from a friend that MGMT were once on this smooth sailing boat trying to write music for a porno. They were practising the theremin and some percussion instruments and what-not, when out of nowhere they got hit by a giant whirlpool. Their boat got torn to pieces from underneath them, and they fell into the swirling water which just got bigger and bigger, softly burying their vocals and drowning them in such an original way, that this very song shot into the sky and nestled into an elephant's ear - which made him very angry. Isn't that beautiful yet so tragic, in a very unusual way? Some say MGMT never came back again, but that’s the only part of the story I don’t really believe.




09. Cults - You Know What I Mean

Album: Cults (07 June)
Twee Pop

Do you remember your first real kiss? Does the thought bring back the engaging scent of nostalgia, swamped by adoration as you slow danced during the late-60’s? Wasn't it so soft at first, but followed abruptly by the flow of adrenaline, causing your heart to beat like little baby punches inside of your ribcage? And yet despite this conflict, the process felt so natural and was over far too fast, leaving you wondering “what just happened??” Right? Right. This feels like that.
Please note that the above video is not official.




08. Jamie Woon - Lady Luck

Album: Mirrorwriting (04 April)
Blue-Eyed Soul

My friends hate the new me, but when I listen to Jamie Woon's smooth falsetto, sampling his own voice like an instrument, it hooks me worse than smack. Who hurt you Jamie? Who hurt you? Tell me, and I will cry for you. I mean, I’m not gay or anything, but he is in a different LEAGUE my friend, and this song should be a Top 40 hit all year round. Please fuck me Jamie Woon. Fuck me hard. Once again, I’m not gay, not into that shit.




07. The Naked and Famous - Punching In A Dream

Album: Passive Me, Aggressive You (14 March)
Indie Pop; Electronic

Man, if you ever got to punch a dream, this is what it would sound like. You’re bouncing around after you snorted a line of pure sugar, slapping pink things whilst singing these radio-friendly lyrics word-for-word even if you’ve never heard the song before. It’s exciting! A poppy-retro kind of exciting, and massive proof that this band obviously works really hard on what they are doing. Well, congrats guys, probably the catchiest song of the year so far.
(Please note - originally released in 2010, UK release 2011)




06. Tennis - Long Boat Pass

Album: Cape Dory (18 January)
Twee Pop

I was once seeing this innocent girl who was super happy and loved to rollerskate. During one summer in the 70’s, we went to the beach together and frolicked in the sun - the simple life. It was picturesque and lovely. We admired the boats and scenery until the sun was too hot, and then I bought a soda-pop for us to share. That’s when she burst into song. This. Very. Song. I was in a musical all along. Hardly anything in my life exists. WHO AM I? WHO WAS SHE?? WHY ARE YOU READING MY THOUGHTS??? LEAVE ME ALONE.




05. Katy B - Katy On A Mission

Album: On A Mission (04 April)
UK Funky House

Yeah man, this track reminds me of the time I dropped an E at some club in Brixton. It was off-the-fucking-hook, the right time at the right place. I was dancing with a big smile, ear to ear, and everything was in slow motion. I kept making eye-contact with the most gorgeous ladies, and we shared smiles, as if we knew something that general society didn't. I kept falling in love with everyone - friends, strangers, you name it - I loved them all. It felt so modern and so perfect, as if God had remastered the whole world, and the production was delicious. That kind of shit lingers with you, man. Those moments last forever.




04. Lanu - Beautiful Trash

Album: Her 12 Faces (07 March)
Nu Jazz

Put summer in a jar. Throw in some upbeat tempos and stir until very light and creamy. Add the infectiously catchiness you previously mixed with the voice of smiles, and then sprinkle the top with whole load of love. Shake until well care-free and happy-go-lucky, and then serve warm. That’s how this song was made. I don’t know a single person who doesn’t dig it.




03. Gang Gang Dance - Adult Goth

Album: Eye Contact (09 May)
Neo-Psychedelia

Just by listening to this atmospheric and hilariously titled song, I think you will all agree that there is no real way a human could have made something so immense and generous. Theories are varied, but I believe that they are electronic aliens, synthesized by the government. They must have escaped, hiding out in Japan learning vocals, and then moving down to India to learn traditional music. They eventually settled in New York and released this track, ensuring that they are forever planted in our heads, completing their first step towards world domination. You want more proof? Ok: Ever since I started listening to this song, my erectile dysfunction has disappeared. Explain that shit.




02. Tyler, The Creator - Yonkers

Album: Goblin (10 May)
Hardcore Hip-Hop

"What you think of Hayley Williams? Fuck her! Wolf Haley robbin’ ‘em, I’ll crash that fuckin’ airplane at that faggot nigga B.o.B is in, and stab Bruno Mars in his goddamn oesophagus and won’t stop until the cops come in." That's all you need to know about this song.




01. James Blake - Limit To Your Love

Album: James Blake (07 February)
Art Pop; Electronic

Ok, so it’s a cover song (originally by Feist) which is normally against my principles. But let me tell you a secret as to why this track was chosen (please don’t tell anyone). The first time I heard this piece, a very unsettling incident took place. I ejaculated. But this wasn’t any ordinary ejaculation, it was in slow motion, and it came out in the litres. Dense semen was quietly pouring down my leg and it was ice cold. And then... it sucked right back in. All that jizz crawled back into my cock, forever lost like life itself had turned onto itself, and I felt such immense tension that I cried in silence for hours. Mark my words: if a better song is released in 2011 - then all that Mayan 2012 shit is true.



Conclusion

(Alright Jared, wrap it up nicely. No pressure. Leave these people with something to remember. Something smart. Something witty. Don’t fail me now Jared, this is the most important part of the blog. Make me proud. Make yourself proud.)

Uhm, ok, so a horse walks into a bar and the barman says “why the long face?” and the horse says “cancer” and the barman says “we don’t serve your kind in here” and the horse says “I bet you I can pee in that shot glass from where I'm sitting” and the barman says “what is this, some kind of a joke?” and then the horse pukes up blood and dies.

Friday 27 May 2011

Fancy a quickie, darling?

Juice Nothing Will Have Sex With You
Unfortunately this round I don’t have anything funny to say because I CAN'T BE ASSED. Instead, here is what I have been working on as of late:


JUICE NOTHING
I just launched the sequel to My Brief Brushes With Greatness, aptly titled My Brief Brushes With Greatness Part II. It actually turned out better than I could have hoped, so read it already, Gawd.

I am also almost a third into writing the next blog, so hopefully that won’t take too long.


ALBUM CHARTS
Sadly, I am waaay behind the charts for May, but I don't really care. Instead I have been giving myself the time to go back and listen to past releases I enjoy, which has been good for my stress levels. I recently passed 200 albums from 2011, and it continues to be updated almost every day, so you might as well get your music fix right here.


COMING DOWN HAPPY
This shit is coming together PROPER, but every time I make one step forward, four more steps present themselves. I will say that final instrumental mixes are being made.

Pretty soon all work on everything else will cease for a short time because I really should be focusing on this project. It is massively cool you guys. And for the first time, I will reveal this: if you think that Coming Down Happy is just a music project, you are so very wrong.


FORMSPRING
The other week I got my ass into gear and answered 15 questions in 5 days, and even some before then. The best received were as follows:
Pornstar Blow-Jobs and The Middle East Crisis
The Dumbest Question I Have Ever Been Asked
Three Questions For Jesus
Three Days Invisible
Is Your Life Too Simple?
Anonymous Bitches Want To Fuck Me
Monogamy in the Animal Kingdom
Music vs. Girls
How Do You Know If Your Fuck Buddy Is More Than Just a Fuck Buddy
Beards and Rashes
And the Age Old Question: Would I Rather Have All My Fingers Replaced by Penises or My Nose?

This does mean my Inbox is dangerously close to empty (6 left - first time in a long time) so please ask me stuff!


THE FUNPOWDER PLOT
Finally, I actually have news. The script for our next short has been finalized and shooting is scheduled to take place on Tuesday. Nobody could predict what it is, but if all goes according to plan, it should be one to remember. Hopefully out in 2 weeks or less - hold thumbs, and keep checking the site.


HELP JARED WOODS MEET LILY ALLEN
Somehow there is actually news coming for this project. It's such a lol, I am beginning to doubt it will ever really die.


And that’s everything for now. Remember to follow me on Twitter because then you will get all of the news all of the time, lost in-between nothing at all.

Get down girl, go ahead, get down.
Jared