8 April 2015


When I got to England I was looking forward to the aggressive fun of punk rock. Only trouble was punk rock had not yet got going.

The England I found was listening to Queen, possibly the biggest, stinkiest load of shit ever recorded, and Showaddywaddy, a stageful of wank teds.

Showaddywaddy even had their own tv show. I remember watching it and drinking straight Southern Comfort Export with the family I was staying with.

"What do you think of them?" I was asked.

"Not exactly the fucking Beatles, are they?" was as polite an answer I could manage before adding, "and it is too bad the BBC will never give Rush a show on the telly."

As if.

What the fuck had happened to the English? 30 years without a war and they had gone softer than the Queen Mom's ass.

That is what I thought of Showaddywaddy until today when I came home with a couple albums of their's from the thrift store. Fucking brilliant Showaddywaddy are. Like a more inbred version of Sha-Na-Na.

Guess anything that's rock 'n' roll's fine with me now.

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