By Hans Ebert
Either something is very wrong, or everything is completely wrong, and with inspiration in such short supply. And without inspiration, how can one create? There’s just so much of everything that finding that something- and someone- special today becomes almost an impossibility. It wasn’t always like this.
Where did we make that U-turn down to Rue Morgue Avenue and cosy up and settle for mediocrity- mediocre music, mediocre people, and we tolerate and accept mediocre everything. It makes me wanna cut off my ear, and yell, Can you fucking hear me?