New. New new new new new. The internet is awash with new. And you know what? Sometimes I’m bloody bored of new. I’m bored of the new sounds and the new signing and the new artist on the new label on the new bike in the new borough with the new shoes and the news of the world. Sometimes I want old. I want comforting. I want a pair of worn, warm, soft slippers. Preferably with a sheepskin lining in front of a fire with my granddad smelling of leather and tobacco and reading me Winnie the Pooh. But then again, old does get a bit tiresome, doesn’t it? The same old thing, over and over and over again? They do say that variety is the spice of life. And I’ve heard them often suggest that a change will do you good. Adverts and adages ad nauseam.
Maybe the ideal solution would therefore be something that ticked both boxes and satisfied both cravings; something refreshingly new, with all the comforting hallmarks of old. However, there’s a distinct fear that this duality would just make it redundant, and possibly even dangerous; a hark back to an idealized time that swiftly reveals itself as being a fallacy and ultimately reinforces the pain of present existence. But then again maybe re-living the past in all its forms and incarnations is the only way to deal with the present and stave off the onrushing tide of egotistical, self-destructive progressivism; those that forget the past are, of course, condemned to relive it. And I don’t really fancy the holocaust, thanks.
So, to draw my complete and utter inconclusion, here’s Horrid Red. They are from Germany and make songs that sound like a stripped down supergroup formed of all your favourite post-punk, no-wave and krautrock bands from the UK, US and Germany from 1979-83 (or at least mine, anyway). The main man is called Edmund Xavier. He’s a good guy. There.
Image is by Barbara Kruger.