Everybody’s talking about the Arctic Monkeys. They played South by Southwest, practically didn’t bother to show up for their own gig, and still got tons of press coverage. All over the papers, all around town, it’s all you hear about these days. Even damned Jay Leno is talking about them. Everywhere you go, it’s Arctic Monkeys this, Arctic Monkeys that, here an Arctic Monkey, there an Arctic Monkey. Crap, I’m so sick of hearing *about* them, while not actually hearing them. (I have yet to hear them play a note, really. Despite the fact that they appear all over my TV, radio, and local newspaper.)
They’re a band, for pete’s sake. They should be singing, playing, maybe even trashing hotel rooms, a la Trail of the Dead, not running around town pontificating. (I guess you could sum them up by saying we collectively need a little less arctic talk and a lot more monkey action.)
Well, damn, now I guess I just spoke about them too, didn’t I?
Until next frozen baboon…
