By Bro. Jo Stern, on May 9th, 2010
 Who the fu** is Joan? And who’s got her?
Is she a deliciously dense and dirty bimmer who’s been bundled into the trunk of a sedan, praying for the A-Team to show up just in the nick of time? Perhaps it’s some kind of terrorist plot to overthrow the conspiritorial international spy ring headed up by the sex-starved, Sara-Lee-chocolate-gateaux-plastered Thatcher wannabees on Boots’ make-up counter.
Or maybe she’s an heroic figure in the community and the people who’ve got Joan just don’t know where they’d be without her.
Maybe it’s some kind of slang for a bastard of a disease.
Who knows? Whatever the story is, there’s definitely a reference to someone having Joan in “Silent Fishnets“, another recent music offering from Foilface, and nobody knows how it got there.
Here is the Music Player. You need to installl flash player to show this cool thing!
By Duncan Ratters, on May 8th, 2010
Set me on fire, I’m on my way to Bordeax,
I’m saying, “O-oh, O-oh, O-oh, I’m made of polyester”,
I stress for hours just because I’m alive,
My French is shit, I’m singing, “Ce’st bon Jean-Claude Van-Damme le merde”.
There are no junkies in Uzbekistan,
My gland is not aroused by photo’s of sailors,
Put down your onion sandals,
I handle death threats like they’re titties on a Tuesday,
I bruise like peaches but you will never ever see me
Reaching for a bacon licker!
Holistic Peter,
Aggressive Sebastian,
Talking like the last bastions
Of a nuclear future vision.
Crafty spoonfuls of a creme brulee,
It’s not a Tuesday, it’s a Saturday,
Fuck off Dad I’m going to Bob Hattersley’s,
Coz he’s got a Ninetendo Wii.
What’s that you’re saying?
You smell of translation frenzies,
This isn’t class based, it’s not an anti-euro message,
It’s just a rural riot,
If I had piloted a plane in 9/11
I would of tolf the muslims heaven
Was filled with fat virgin lesbians,
Holistic Peter,
Aggressive Sebastian,
Talking like the last bastions
Of a nuclear future vision.
Crafty spoonfuls of a creme brulee,
It’s not a Tuesday, it’s a Saturday,
Fuck off Dad I’m going to Bob Hattersley’s,
Coz he’s got a Ninetendo Wii.
Put out my fire I’m heading back to Soho,
I’m crying, “Oh no, oh no, oh no, I look like Simon Weston”,
I rest on laurels like they’re benches in a park,
I spark the dark but it never ever turns into an early sunshine.
There are no junkies in Uzbekistan,
My gland is not aroused by photo’s of sailors,
Put down your onion sandals,
I handle death threats like they’re titties on a Tuesday,
I bruise like peaches but you will never ever see me
Reaching for a bacon licker!
By Bro. Jo Stern, on May 6th, 2010
 I was saying to the missus, on this general erection day morning, how I was feeling strangely nostalgic for the weird excitement I remember feeling as a kid when parties used to drive past our house blurting toss through a megaphone in the build up to elections.
There are probably still plenty of places around the UK where this has never died, but I couldn’t remember witnessing such an event during my adult years. Until about half an hour ago.
Yes, amidst the modern day multimedia wrangle of pissing out lies en masse from a distance via screens and type, I felt a warm tingle of something happening in the real world that I actually live in when I heard the unmistakable muffled screech of loudspeakered bullshit approaching.
As it came nearer I could make out the words, “Britain is full, end immigration, vote BNP” (time well spent – I’m sure they can now count on the full support of the people in this area, who hail from just about everywhere). It’s a well-worn lesson, but the message is not to yearn for nostalgic memories to revisit reality, or they’ll be forever ruined by a retarded scumbag with a megaphone.
One of the safest ways to distract those in possession of speech, who don’t yet have the counterpart brain to safely operate it, is through the use of music therapy. So we’d like to encourage all BNP members to download and listen (constantly) to our new 100% English music songs (recorded using German equipment, whilst guzzling Italian beer and munching American snacks and inspired by great musicians from everywhere – even ones who aren’t white).
By Duncan Ratters, on May 5th, 2010
Here is the Music Player. You need to installl flash player to show this cool thing!
Us Foilface boys have been a little quiet of late, but fear not dear readers, we’ve not disappeared, broken up, died from miaow-miaow poisoning or embarked on new careers as fashion designers. We’ll leave that kind of bobbins to teenagers who don’t know their limits and Liam Gallagher.
No, we’ve just been a bit slack (this is slacker rock after all, is it not?). But all that’s about to change a bit. For starters, last Saturday we recorded a new tune. It’s a little noisy rock blast we’ve decided to call, ‘Gateway Not Found’ (press play to preview).
Imagine a colonic that blasts the visceral pulp of Liars, Future of the Left, Flowered Up, Guided by Voices and The Fall – and you’ll be 53% of the way there. I see the tune as a twisted commentary on anglo-french relations witnessed through the looking glass of teenage isolation. But in all honesty I’m more than happy if you think it’s just some semi-amusing babble, creme-brulle-ed all over a bowl of sinister skag-rock. It’s your call dear reader.
Pretty soon, we’re going to mix and master our first album. It’s going to be called ‘Till Then Amigo’ and will contain about 13 or 14 tunes (some of which you may have heard on these very pages – and a handful of which you won’t have). Stay patient…. not long now……..
By Bro. Jo Stern, on April 28th, 2010
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By Bro. Jo Stern, on January 31st, 2010
 Another month (of a new year, in a new decade) and Foilface have been back in the studio concocting some new slacker rock sounds that will eventually be available for your discerning ears. We promise you that a whole heap of these tunes will be mixed and downloadable for public consumption at some point soon (the clue to our tardiness dear readers is in the genre flagging above), but in the meantime absorb yourself in the mere theoretical sounds our electrified minds have been creating.
Silent Fishnets is a journey into the darkened and car key swopping entrails of a high society, rich suburbanite party. All software millionnaires, oyster moist call girls, cocaine cougars and twisted evangelists. In part it licks from the same dog bowl as the 1989 film Society. The film is a bizarre, Lovecraftian spoof on the American upper classes, and if you haven’t seen it is well worth a watch – it will bend your head… and your guts.
The tune mixes that idea jism with glam rock, japanese manga hollering, Doors-ian lounge fuckery and a fistful of peanut M&Ms. Will it make the final cut of our (hopefully soon to be released) debut album? Stay tuned. Tunes are coming soooooon……..
By Bro. Jo Stern, on December 22nd, 2009
 The churning out of much fine new uk music can often leave one feeling rather peckish, so I got quite excited this week when I treated myself to some new scoff technology whilst out on a lavish christmas shop in Poundstretcher.
‘Toastabags‘ (pluralised even though there’s only one in the tight-arsed pack) are basically wallets for toasting sandwiches in your toaster. You may have seen them featured on Dragon’s Den a while back.
Great idea, but sadly the manufacturer’s claims appear to be a complete croque-monsieur of shit. My perfectly decent cheese butty was quickly turned to charcoal on the outside, whilst the cheese inside was still colder than Michael Jackson. The supposedly “reusable toastabag” singed through on it’s first pathetic outing, so in truth didn’t even reach the dizzy heights of being “usable”.
Luckily, the fact that the tight fannies only give you one in the pack meant that I didn’t put my second butty in at the same time, so I avoided cremating them both – I did this one under the grill like I would have done anyway before my idiot purchase.
Toastabags Review: They’re fuc*ing dreadful (0/10)
Ah, that feels better.
By Bro. Jo Stern, on December 1st, 2009
 It was good to see Leviathan Jones make an appearance down at the bunker studio on Saturday night. Odd though that may sound, it’ll all become clear when the next stash of recent music from Foilface escapes into the world…
By Bro. Jo Stern, on November 16th, 2009
 RIP Derek B. You got away with wearing caps back to front and you wore your vest well. Taken too soon… motherf*cker.
By Bro. Jo Stern, on November 2nd, 2009
 It’s hard to swim against the love-to-hate tide that has swelled for these fecking little pricks from ITV’s shamelessly fake talent show; so much so that they’re even getting a mention from Foilface now.
We reckon their massive doubletake brothers ball-baggery heads would have been better received if they’d called themselves ‘Vanilla Twice’. Although in fairness they’re more ‘baby’ than ‘ice’ and “Ice Baby Baby” doesn’t quite scan.
Of course, if you want some real music 2 download for free, don’t think Cowell’s emotionally retarted freakshow of wailing scrotum sputum – think Foilface!
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Who the fu** is Joan? And who’s got her?
