By Bro. Jo Stern, on June 30th, 2009
 In the middle of the night when you’re zoned,
Just thinking, drinking,
Sinking into another man’s sofa,
On the brink of something happening,
You’re just reckoning that this can’t be the future
As your tutor is waiting to tell you something,
Anything that will alleviate the boredom,
No-one famous ever came from Milton Keynes,
All your dreams are just puddles left from the storms,
You’re just horny,
But then again maybe it’s this pill drink.
When the summer of your days are just a blaze
In a haze of Australians dying,
Lying on your back sweaty cracked,
Double-tracked like your life is running oh so parallel
To the surprising rising of a thousand backwoodsmen,
It’s kiss and tell, it’s wishing wells,
It’s the real hell of another man’s empty cellar,
No good stories ever came from Stoke-On-Trent,
You’re bent out of shape and hating people,
You’re evil, but then again,
At least you’ve got your pill drink.
No-one erotic ever came from East Kilbride,
You’re wide-eyed and unnecessary,
This is a very, very bad thing,
But at least you’ve got your pill drink.
When there’s someone in the background of every supermarket
Shouting words like, ‘semester’ and, ‘vacation’,
You know that they’re the kind of people
Who pay for empty cartons at the end of their shop
‘Cause they’ve eaten everything,
They treat it like a day out,
They treat it like an adventure,
They invite you around their house
To watch re-runs of Birds of a Feather,
They send you video messages to your phone
Of inbreds chain-sawing the heads off pigs,
They shove both thumbs up,
Smiling.
By Bro. Jo Stern, on June 28th, 2009
 I’m sure you won’t have heard this anywhere, but Michael Jackson died on Friday. Whatever you thought of his utterly quizzical lifestyle, nobody can deny that he leaves behind something of an impressive and unique contribution to musical history that is unliekly to be forgotten any time soon.
What will be forgotten – probably very promptly – are the less desirable elements of his existence; the efforts to make himself into a lego-faced white guy, for starters. It’ll be the same people who were slagging him silly last week, who will now pretend to be personally offended when someone cracks one of the inevitible tasteless gags that will now be circulating. You know the people I mean; the folks who shed tabloid tears over a total stranger who bought it in a tunnel, even though they called her a disgrace while she was alive… and still siezed the opportunity for a bonus booze-up on that bizarre ‘day of national mourning’ we were gifted.
Why is it that we only seem to love these people once they’re dead? There’ll probably be some wacko Jacko fanclub fatwa on Martin Bashir and Jarvis Cocker by the end of the month, despite the base satisfaction we all enjoyed from their bad-boy antics.
In conclusion, Foilface have decided we will all live as officially dead people from now on for the good of our recent music. This means you can idolise us stupid to show everyone just what a caring person you are. We tick all the boxes – you probably didn’t know us, you didn’t really care about us, and anyone who doesn’t understand your latest excuse for an almighty self-indulgent bender is clearly just heartless scum.
By Bro. Jo Stern, on June 27th, 2009
 It’s all well and good basking in the anonymity of Foilface. But when you look out of your humble upstairs window in the early hours and see a car creeping along the back lane – the type of which can only belong to the new free music paparazzi – it’s kind of daunting. Shouldn’t they all be at Glasto right now? They’re on to us, man. LEG IT!!!
By Bro. Jo Stern, on June 25th, 2009
 THE KING OF POP IS DEAD…
The fresh from the bakers oven news concerning the death of the consistently peculiar plasticine mannequin, Michael Jackson has got me thinking about the future of music.
Since Foilface mixed their first EP, two or three months ago (the magical and strange, Jean-Claude Naive) important musical icons have started dying in their droves.
We’ve had Manchester’s very own Johnny Roadhouse, Randy Cain of The Delfonics, Ink Spots singer Huey Long, Soft Machine bassist Hugh Hopper, Motown drummer Uriel Jones, the producer of Massive Attack’s brilliant ‘Blue Lines’ album – Jonny Dollar, Steppenwolf’s Kent Henry, Ean Evans – bass player with Lynyrd Skynyrd and now, hugest of the huge, ‘THE KING OF POP’ HIMSELF – MICHAEL JACKSON.
Maybe it’s a sign. Are these people making way for the mighty Foilface? Is the musical relay baton being passed? Who knows. But I bet you one thing – they’ll be a whole load of Wacko Jacko covers being played this weekend at Glastonbury.
I’d personally like to see Bruce Springsteen belting out ‘Billie Jean’ and maybe Rolf Harris wobbling out a cover of ‘Earth Song’ (“What about the elephants – a-hum-tiddy-hum-tiddy-hum” - how good would that be?).
All jokes aside it’s a sad moment. Jackson has left big footprints all over the history of modern music and we’ll probably never see someone as famous and popular as him ever again.
So why not celebrate his memory by listening to some Foilface. Some good, honest slacker-rock. It’s way better than listening to ‘Thriller’ for the 6,643 time and it certainly beats standing in a muddy field in some over-priced wellies, listening to Shed Seven holler out a re-worked, ‘Man in the Mirror’ or Kasabian murdering, “Ben”.
The very thought of such horrors is enough to give me a heart-attack!
By Bro. Jo Stern, on June 25th, 2009
 The horse is out the barn, fo sho, but we’re not ashamed to bring you the definitive Glastonbury stage line-up for 2009 regardless. It’d be bordering on criminal not to feature it on this here music blog (we know we’ve got at least a few readers in a field right now who probably can’t quite remember who it was they wanted to see and when – this is for you, dudes).
Check our official Glastonbury 2009 lineup guide, which comes complete with links to all the bands on the bill, so you can pick the wheat from the chaff in the comfort of your own tent. Rock on!
By Bro. Jo Stern, on June 25th, 2009
 Music – like birds, spiders and Deirdre Rachid – makes the most sense when it’s free. Since long before I was born music been shackled, packaged and presented to us as shiny eye catching parcels, watering down it’s spirit and diluting it’s soul.
Spotify is my new favourite ever thing on the Internet, it’s incredible and is helping to push along the idea that – having to pay for, download and store music is soon to be obsolete, thank Jah.
A Spotify client for iPhone is almost ready, surely there will be ports to Symbian, and as our embarassingly slow-interneted country finally gets to grips with decent mobile broadband I wouldn’t be surprised if we started seeing standalone Spotify or We7 or other streamcatching boxes springing up in the next few years.
I’m currently onsite at the Glastonbury festival, it’s not exactly Free Music at 175 quid a ticket but with 700 acts over 4 days it’s not bad value. Rolf Harris is playing, oh, and Status Quo.
By Bro. Jo Stern, on June 24th, 2009
 Sometimes it’s easy to be paranoid in this frequently bleak world of ours. Far simpler to think people are judging you every minute of every day, than no-one actually being arsed to. Just because the latter is the more likely does not make it the easier option.
At Foilface HQ we love judging people. We thrive off it. But we are also very wary of the whispers in the trees, the haunted gurgle of the river that sits beside our beloved studio and the watchful flap of herons at dawn. People love to hate and hate to love most of the time – it’s how things work.
So, it came as no surprise on my walk home the other day, to find that nature has seemingly started listening to my moves (see the photo above). All I was doing was listening to a few bits of recent music on my shiny ipod and then I came across that. And I’m telling you – that patch of land was not fiddled with by me – that’s the face of nature staring at you – and do you know what it’s thinking?
It’s thinking, “hmmm, I really like these Foilface fellas. They produce a fine example of 21st century progressive-post-punk-slacker-rock. I likes and I think others will too”.
By Bro. Jo Stern, on June 24th, 2009
 A church-ridden tw@ in a tunic,
Was buzzing off new english music.
He listened to Truckers,
Whilst blessing some f***ers,
And sprayed out abuse in Tungusic.
By Bro. Jo Stern, on June 22nd, 2009
 For those of you who haven’t visited our downloads page and are still unaware of our newly released (and first ever) EP, the magical, “Jean-Claude Naive”. I am here to remind you that as of last week our first ever batch of tunes (6 in all) are out and available to DOWNLOAD FOR FREE.
SIX FREE SLACKER ROCK TRACKS all ready to be given a new home and loved like a little doe-eyed puppy.
Don’t let ‘the man’ tell you there’s nothing in this world for FREE. He’s wrong (and always has been).
By Bro. Jo Stern, on June 22nd, 2009
 Am I alone in my pissy-panted amusement concerning Noel Gallagher and his, “THIS IS A FREE GIG“ u-turn?
Noel and his fellow Quoasis ‘tards have long since stopped being truly rock n’ roll and ‘all about the music’ – but this latest u-turn shows us what a money hungry twonk Gallagher Snr really is – posing as a man of the people one minute and then remembering he’s got a Rolls Royce and a huge millionaires mansion to pay for the next.
Just over two weeks ago, Ol’ Breshnev Brows offered Oasis fans a full refund after two major power cuts hit their opening show at Manchester’s Heaton Park.
Problems arose early on in their set, after the generators broke down, forcing the band to leave the stage for around ten minutes. After returning and launching into the plodding dross of ‘Lyla’, the generators once again packed-in half-way through (in protest maybe?). This was followed by a mammoth forty minute wait, during which the 70,000 gig-goers, who had paid £45 each for a ticket, started to get uneasy and raucous.
Sensing an air of disappointment, upon returning, Noel shouted to the crowd, “Thank you very, very much, this is a free gig – let’s f***ing have it! Anybody who has kept their ticket will get a full refund.”
I remember reading about this at the time and thinking what a top bloke Noel must be and how maybe I was wrong to think that 99% of his musical offerings post-Definitely Maybe were complete and utter bobbins. I think I even thought briefly about going back and re-assessing “Be Here Now” (“maybe Marilyn Manson is right when he says it’s amazing”, I momentarily brain farted stupidly).
But no. Like Lennon and McCartney after The Beatles split, shrunk laundry, preparing a brew only to realise the milk is off and lesbians without tongues – it was all just a big pile of nonsense.
Two weeks have passed since that gig and twenty thousand people have now tried to get refunds. But Noel can’t believe it. Not only that, he thinks they’re, “cheeky c**ts” for taking him up on his offer!
Writing on the official Oasis website, Noel blathers, “It seems that around 20,000 of you have asked for a refund from that night at Heaton Park!! 20,000!! So you were genuinely disappointed? I don’t recall seeing a 20,000 gap in the crowd. Cheeky c**ts! Tsk ..some people.”
Call me, Jean-Claude Naive but I reckon it’s probably got something to do with the £900,000 bill he’d have to foot if he was true to his word – the slack-mouthed spunker.
Here’s hoping he catches AIDS and dies… I mean the flu and feels a bit rough… or a bad cold and needs a lie down… ahhhh… actually I quite like him… good luck to you fella… you’re great… you always have been… you’re lovely…
Noel Gallagher, eh? He’s a smashing bloke – really down to earth and sound and that…
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In the middle of the night when you’re zoned,
