Silent Fishnets

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........

Toastabags Are Shit - Don't Buy 'Em

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.

Monsters of Bunker Rock

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...

RIP Dezza Bizzle

RIP Derek B. You got away with wearing caps back to front and you wore your vest well. Taken too soon... motherf*cker.

Vanilla Twice?

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!

Manchester Recording Studio Deals!

Much of the fine Foilfacery purveyed 'pon this site was twatted out, smashed through timeholes and crafted into gourmet ear pie at The Bunker recording studio in Manchester by special invitation over recent days.

Rather spiffingly, The Bunker is now doing some leg-janglingly well-priced recording studio package deals for everyone to buzz off (as long as you're not a moronic spazoid of course). Check out these most appealing Bunker Deals at www.bunkersounds.co.uk.

As if that's not cock-poppingly fantastic enough, you can also get recording studio gift vouchers to make you the bestest buddy/relative in the land - or maybe just to mega impress a chick who thinks she's Dido or summit.

Scoop it Up

80's revivals, golf rock, twins in matching outfits, ironic jerry curls, happy glue-sniff-bleep-core phone jingles, gonzo street dance yoghurt wig-wam happenings, Sinitta.... we really do need to wipe the shit off the streets sometimes don't we? It's like second hand fish sex monitored by robots and Deirdre Rachid (nee Barlow). The AIDS peppered rot of cultural confetti clogging drains and blocking rational thought.

With all that in mind.... GET SOME FOILFACE... IT'S STILL HERE... AND THERE'LL BE MORE ONE DAY SOON... AND IT WON'T WHIFF OF SONIC DOG SHIT... PROMISE...