The Girlpope Lesson

This might let something or other leak out and I SOOO want to avoid this being another music-is-the-soundtrack-to-my-life blog (where the life is clearly the MAIN feature and fuck I have done that!) but I saw Girlpope a bunch back east a long time ago and their name was good and they had lots of energy and even a few tunes you could recall and even sing along to. Then what happens? Must have been some of their earliest shows. I noticed later how they popped up in all kinds of silly settings supporting bigger bands, trying to make it, desperately, desperately, desperately trying to make a job out of joy. And I only pick them out now because they stand for a billion provincial bands. Harmless, cute, capable of a few moments of diversion for kids who don't get to see that much or who just need something to hop around to when they are making out or getting wasted. It is a service of a kind. And then this. A title that Ween or Weezer might like (I don't know, I smiled). Cover design left to your buddy...oh dear. Then the music...must have fallen for some of it myself cos I didn't think so badly of em once....of course it is derivative and everything sounds like take number four...and it is anaemic and strained...but it also sounds so depserately, desperately, desperately desperate...like your fave pet dog running around the yard trying to prove she is ok when you are about to take her to the...V E T S. Is it important to investigate these feelings? I said this time I will do the uncomfortable stuff and say what I HATE (that is easy in a way)...but the H U G E   F  A  T  middle of ordinary is where the real pain is.