Yes, Bloody Eboue Again

It’s so nice to see that, when a professional footballer earning more in a couple of weeks than most of us do in a year makes a terrible mistake in a derby match, he immediately comes out with gems like this:

““The referee sent me off”

Well, who did you expect to be sending you off for kicking out at another player? The milkman? David Bowie? The massed hordes of Ghengiz Khan’s Mongol army?

“he called me and gave me a yellow card. I don’t really understand why”

Er, because you were ranting away at him and didn’t shut up even after he told you to, three times?

“The second card is normal, I accept it”

That’s terribly gracious of you. It was probably a straight red though, I’ve seen people sent off for less.

“”I just wanted to give my best.”

Sadly, I think you just did. That really is the limits of your talent, mate. Cheerio. Don’t let the door bang your arse on the way out.

In any case, I’ve not had a chance to watch the match myself properly, having only watched it on a hooky stream yesterday, so I shall refrain from commenting further. The usual top comments at Arseblog, A Cultured Left Foot (including some funny comments about journalists), East Lower and Goodplaya. Go on, fill yer boots.

Right, I’m off to see a man about a job. Or rather the lack of them.

It’s Eboue or us, Wenger

As I said earlier, Eboue is useless. He’s also, as today’s match against Spurs shows, a total liability. With just over 35 minutes gone, Eboue, already on a stupid yellow for arguing with the ref, kicked out at Modric and got himself sent off. He was lucky it wasn’t a straight red.

This isn’t the first time he’s done something absolutely dumb-headed in a critical match. Even though Eboue has become probably the most unpopular player in an Arsenal shirt in living memory, Wenger has persisted in playing him. And the reasons why he is so unpopular seem to have totally escaped Wenger. So should you stumble upon this humble blog, Mr Wenger, here’s why we hate Eboue.

He cheats.
He dives.
He pretends to be injured.
He kicks opposition players off the ball in critical matches.
He doesn’t score any goals and hardly any assists.
He’s not good defensively.
He cheats and dives and kicks players off the ball.

Basically, he’s a really shit version of Robbie “Cuntchops” Savage.

And frankly, those of us for whom money is tight really don’t want to be paying over £1000 a year to watch Eboue fuck around and ruin any hope we may have had to get a Champions League place. You’re not running a charity home for dozy fucknutted Ivorians to run around and get themselves sent off, and never score any goals even though they are midfielders. He’s shit. He’s a cheat. Get rid of him, or you’ll find more and more fans simply don’t bother coming to the games any more.

I grew up with players like Liam Brady, and I’ve watched Adams, Bergkamp, Henry, Vieira, Cesc and other genius footballers at Highbury and Ashburton Grove more times than I can remember. Those are the type of players we expect at Arsenal. I even liked Senderos and Luzhny, for pete’s sake. But not Eboue.

What is worse is that Wenger’s standing amongst Arsenal fans is being destroyed by his bizarre love for Eboue. Get rid of him, before we get rid of you.

Arsenal vs Spurs, Bill Hicks on Letterman

So, yet another big game for Arsenal today and yet another chance for us to finally kick our season back into some sort of life. With Chelsea only managing a draw against Hull yesterday, and Villa winning yet again, we really have to win or fifth place (or worse) beckons. Plus we need to get our revenge following the ridiculous 4-4 game earlier this season (which I was at, and still can’t quite believe). Time for the likes of Adebayor and Eboue to step up and prove their worth to the club. There are too many players all too willing to saunter round the pitch and not put the effort in (I’m looking at you, Song and Eboue), and if that happens again today we can kiss any chance of a European place goodbye.

There’s also the additional motivation that Sp*rs have spent nearly £50m in the transfer window and are still only a couple of points clear of the bottom three, and yet another loss would really drop them in it. I’d almost be ok with not getting a CL place next season if Sp*rs went down.

In other news, on Friday night David Letterman aired the “lost” Bill Hicks routine, which CBS refused to show, months before Bill’s tragic death from cancer. It’s here and is a great use of 20 minutes of your time. Bill Hicks was a truly visionary comedian, who went beyond crude gags and blunt satire to develop an almost messianic world view. Coming from a religious family, and a comedian from the age of 15, he was a passionate and hugely experienced comedian who just about managed to keep his rants about an inch away from hectoring his audience (a trait which he often referred to, saying after particularly angry or disturbed rants “Sorry, wrong meeting, I though I was at the one at the docks” or “I am available for children’s parties”). He could expertly work a crowd (when he wasn’t insulting the duller members of an audience). There was no-one like him then, or now.

Superb comedian sadly missed. Lord only knows what he’d have made of Dubya.

Quiet Morning – Quick Bit Of Arsenal News

Thankfully it looks like the Premier League clubs have decided there were no issues with the timing of the Arshavin deal. Could have been a sticky one, especially in light of the ongoing saga of the Tevez/Mascherano deal back in 2006 (funnily enough, Tevez still hasn’t got the hang of this legality thing).

Eboue isn’t appearing on Arsenal’s injury list so it looks like he might be available to play on Sunday. Unfortunately.

Anyway, must rush, got stuff to do and things to see.

Jim James (My Morning Jacket) Acoustic

Rollo & Grady posted a few lovely Jim James solo numbers the other day. In case you didn’t know, Jim James is the main man in My Morning Jacket, those beardy Kentucky rawkers. And here’s one, for your delectation.

Lowdown (MP3)

I’ve gotta say, both Lowdown and The Way That He Sings are Desert Island Disks of mine.

And if you ever get a chance to see them live, grab it. He’s a crazy, and very funny, mofo.

Martin Hannett and Lego Skating

A nice little video of Tony Wilson talking to Martin Hannett about production techniques in 1980. Why do I get the feeling that Martin Hannett thinks that Tony Wilson is an idiot?

And whilst looking at that, I stumbled across this:

ITV Football Coverage is Rubbish, New Theme

ITV continued their hopelessly shambolic football coverage by managing to miss the extra time goal by Everton in their 1-0 victory over Liverpool in the FA Cup last night. I mean, really, how difficult can it be to chuck a couple of cameras up, and get a couple of ex-pros to witter endlessly about “That Night In Barcelona” or “That Night In Istanbul”, without showing a Tic Tac advert just as about the only exciting thing that happened in 120 minutes is happening?

Amateurs, I tell you. Not that the BBC are much better with chummy MOTD, in which it’s absolutely vital to not say a bad word about Gerrard, Lampard or Terry. Why can’t we have football coverage like they do it Italy, with proper pundits who actually know something about strategy, tactics, and have some insight into how a team is playing?

/rant over.

And I’ve got a new Theme. It sure is purdy.

Lux Interior RIP

As Pitchfork and The Guardian report, The Cramps frontman Lux Interior died yesterday.

He was a fantastic showman, a great vocalist and songwriter, and one of rock’s true originals. There was no-one like him, and you can see his influence in everyone from White Stripes, Jon Spencer Blues Explosion, and countless other rock bands.

I saw them as an impressionable teenager at the Bristol Bierkeller back in 88/89 (can’t quite remember the date). He was crazy, running around topless, rolling around on the stage and humping anything that moved. What a guy.

We’ll miss you, fella.

Rather predictable mp3 below:

Human Fly by The Cramps

(I would put “Can Your Pussy Do The Dog” but I only have it on vinyl, sadly)

Review – Blood Bank by Bon Iver

Bon Iver was, along with Fleet Foxes, one of the big new things of 2008. The backstory was interesting, with a chap called Justin Vernon so hacked off with the breakup of a relationship that he tootled off to his dad’s shack out in the woods of Wisconsin to mope get over it. And what with the wonders of modern technology, he wrote an album there too. It won plaudits all over the shop, but personally, I was a little underwhelmed. It just seemed a bit, you know, whiny, frankly. And I’m a big fan of whininess, but I personally like a bit more grit, like say, Nick Drake (who was so unhappy he possibly killed himself), or Elliott Smith (who was so unhappy he almost certainly killed himself).

Not that I want my rock stars dead or anything, but you know, if you’re going to be miserable, do it about something proper; like serious depression, drug addiction, or the horrific death of your entire immediate family from a hideous, tragic, and somewhat hilarious accident involving a cauliflower. Not that your bird has dumped you. Seriously, just get over it by going out, doing tons of drugs and putting yourself at extreme risk of catching a sexual disease. Go on, Bonnie mate, get pissed and shag a stripper, it’ll cheer you up immensely.

Oh, and as for the story about killing deer, what did you do, sing to them until they fell into a coma?

Maybe I’m being a bit harsh, and the album just hasn’t caught in my mind properly yet. Sometimes music does that – you think “Meh” the first few listens and the next thing you know, you’re getting out of bed at 3am just to go and have another listen.

Which leads me onto this. Blood Bank is the new EP by our miserable cabin-bothering chum, recorded with his touring band, and it’s…well, not a huge difference really. It’s quite pleasant in an undemanding way, or at least until you get to the final (fourth) track, Woods. And here Bonny “Moany” Iver breaks out the Autotune in order to become the acoustic guitar playing Kanye West. The result? Well, it’s interesting, I suppose. The problem is, when you try something different, is whether the technique you try adds anything of value. See, for example, Grizzly Bear with production I can best describe as immensely creepy, or Animal Collective. Both manage to sound hugely different even though, underneath their songs are fairly normal (Marla, by Grizzly Bear, is a 50-year old song, but manages to sound both modern and ancient at once). But Woods, to me, sounds like someone arsing around. Still, it could lead onto more interesting things, so good luck to you, fella.

Maybe I really am just being harsh. Hey, give it a try yourself.

Woods by Bon Iver

Arshavin’s Finally Here

Andrei Arshavin is finally here, as announced on the club’s website. He’ll wear shirt number 23. Let’s hope he doesn’t go all fruitcake like the previous wearer of the shirt.

Let’s also hope he’s match fit so he can take Eboue’s role on the right side of midfield for the Spurs game. As opposed to Eboue’s role of being fucking shit.

Been listening to The Sundays and Felt today, might just have to knock up a special retro late 80’s post about sonic cathedrals of sound and the like.