I DJed with my buddy Ted at Push on Saturday night, which was cool because it was literally only us playing upstairs. None of the default human beings that go to that club liked our music so we played to no one, Ted drank all the free sauce he could (I’m on the wagon) and we split the cash at the end. It was great.

However, the actual interesting thing about the night is that Rhys Ifans’ “band” was playing in the main room and it was the worst thing I ever heard. It was total shit, but also totally brilliant, in that it had every hallmark of a vanity project that anyone could possibly think of. Let’s look at the facts:

1. Someone who I think was his non-famous brother was onstage with him,
hoping that finally his famous brother would provide a meal ticket and
get him out of Bumfuckgthwainddwellthynlleth (or whichever Welsh
shit-hole town he’s forced to live in while his brother fucks babes and
bathes in milk etc).

2. There were about 15 people onstage with
him, and they were all really good at their instruments and obviously
session gimps, but he mainly did nothing but copy Ian Brown badly.

3.
He also barely sang – there was a black gospel singer and another bloke
on guitar who did that. He mainly did the Ian Brown thing with a trilby
pulled over his eyes like the lamest old-guy-being-indie you’ve ever
seen in the Good Mixer.

4. There was “friendly banter” onstage,
but basically all the other musicians did was laugh nervously at Rhys’
poor gags. More meal ticket behaviour all round.

5. Halfway
through the set Rhys held up a piece of cardboard with the message: “NEED TO FIND
PLACE TO STAY FOR 9 BAND MEMBERS TONIGHT”. Like he doesn’t have a
fucking place to stay in London and he’s going to slum it with some
dickhead who goes to Push every weekend.

6. The lyrics were laughable, sub-Oasis
nursery rhyme shit that meant nothing at all and that could only have
been approved if the people approving it were arse-licking yes-men who
Rhys was buying coke for.

7. The music was really boring
dad-rock that sounded like he’d gone to the head session guy, “I want it
to be a bit Primal Scream, a bit Stone Roses and a bit Super Furries,
cos that’s what I really love, I’m really into music, I always have
been, mate,” and the session guy was like, “Yeah, it’ll take me an afternoon
to knock it together, but first, where is the money?”

8. Rhys Ifans is a cunt.

The other thing was that the place was so empty that I could
literally walk up to the stage, take lots of blurry photos (like the one above) and casually stroll back
upstairs without knocking into a single person at all. I guess that means there aren’t enough people who are sad and desperate enough to go and watch movie stars do something
that isn’t a movie. THIS ISN’T GOING TO WORK,
RHYS. GIVE UP NOW!

NOODLES & BROTH