Known only as ‘Mystomunch’, the charming chappy emailed this lovely photo over to us with a simple message – “Dear Foilface, Eat the young, Lots of love Mystomunch x”.

I’m not totally sure what he’s trying to get at – is he saying Foilface are old? Is he advocating kiddy murder as a form of musical advancement? Or is he just a messy eater with a penchant for lamb and veal?

Whatever his message, it’s good to have him onboard. Let’s just hope he doesn’t do any of that Mark Chapman type nonsense. The Foilface agenda is simple – make top tunes to excite people’s ears. Nutters are just a bonus…

In other Foilface news, the band are now just a few weeks away from a release date for the first EP, Jean-Claude Naive. The website is about to be updated and wonkified and the EP artwork is in production. Bookmark this page in your favourites and you’ll be the first to find out when it’s released (and you can find out how to download it for FREE). That’s FREE music to download and it don’t get better than that…

If you liked the initial mix of, ‘Pussyfoot’ then you’ll be pleased to know that our first EP, “Jean-Claude Naive” is mixed and nearly ready to unleash. If you want to get your hands on a copy as soon as it’s released send then contact us. Hopefully you’ll agree that an email address is a more than acceptable swap for a free six track EP (in mp3 format). This is nothing other than it seems – we only want your email address so that we can tell you stuff, like when the next EP is out, for example. We promise not to share your email with anyone else or pepper you with emails.

For all you hardcopy lovers out there, you’ll also be pleased to know that we’ll also be releasing a limited run of the EP on CD. We haven’t got a release date for our recent music slacker rock attacks as yet – but it’s going to be VERY soon.

The end, I have seen my friend
And it lends its face well to vengeance,
You spend all my patience quick
But the trick is to swear that you need me,
Greedy, bleed me dry, I sigh, you lead,
Oh your little words are breaking me.

Break in, break in, so I can break out, break out (x4)

(Wig-Out)

Break in, break in, so I can break out, break out (x4)

So here it comes, here it comes, here it comes, here it comes,
Here comes reality,
I’m off the track, I’m on my back, sharp as a tack, I take it back,
Here comes monotony,

Where you gonna go when you feel the rain?
Whose gonna listen when you start to complain?
What you gonna do when they drive you insane?
Why are you poking your life down the drain?
Talk back!!!

Stay tuned for more lyrics from the recent music vaults of Manchester’s newest slacker rock afficionados, Foilface….

Far be it for me to mock (especially not on this occassion) – I’m far too accepting of such things. I’ve also got no world records (although I may possibly have a bit of athletes foot on the big toe of my right foot and a half eaten sandwiche in the kitchen).

The great news concerning the world recording breaking snails on a face photo on your right is that the young nine year old in question (Tiana Wilson) is a massive fan of Foilface and once listened to ‘Pussyfoot’ in it’s entirety (that’s 2 mins and 31 seconds) on Last FM whilst balancing a non-record breaking 17 snails on her face. She loves us and so do the snails.

Speaking to some reporter at some point she reckoned that snails really liked ramshackled slacker rock music played by men that smell of beer and crisps. It supposedly makes them stickier (no giggling all you SITC fans!).

So, ‘nine year old record breakers’ and ‘snails’ love Foilface. If that’s not the headline on a soon to be released Foilface Press Release, then I’m a cock.

Did I tell you about the time?
Did I tell you about the time?
Did I tell you about the time I had worms?

This is a really bad second date,
I’ve poured my guts out and I’m crying hard,
If there were rules I reckon they’d all be corpses in a lonely pit,
Counting buttons and they’re cluttered by confusing shit.

I break myself into pieces
And I hand myself out to lonely lepers,
Claire is a very good, a very good swimmer,
She’s hyperactive and she’s insecure,

If you tell here she’s the only one
She probably bake some cakes
And suck you till you’re dry.

She’s an only child and her parents are separated
I’ll bet she’ll be elated if you break her down –
She is a cake with squirty cream.

Keep your eyes on these pages for more Foilface lyrics and recent music news and nonsense…

Ten minutes later I received an email from some tool who calls himself, Spoilface and my briefly optimistic feelings sank quicker than a broken flapjack in a mug of steaming hot Kenco.

The melty faced twazzock has been googling himself silly and even has misspelt and rhymed versions of his name google alerted to himself every day. That’s how he came across our site – and he’s not impressed.

“What is this piffle?” he enquired upon my good self, “it reminds me of those hackneyed guff peddlars, The Eagles, but without the expertise and bonhomie”. The wordy prick goes on to waffle about how, “the juxtaposition of terraced housing communities and cliched heartbreak smacks of ruinous naivety”, he even compares the vocals on ‘Sad House’ to the, “after sex bravado of an ageing and paunch-inflicted Jimmy Sommerville”.

So, then, who is this Spoilface quent? Well, look at him for starters. He’s like the love child of Charlotte Bronte and Joleon Lescott. He was probably the last one to wank on a cracker at college too – he’s got that look about him – the kind that as a child sucked on his mum’s tits till he had a full set of teeth.

And what does he do? Well he’s got no recent music, no great tunes to download or funny blogs filled with joyous gubbins. No, he lectures biochemistry and theatre studies in Birmingham and writes essays about dust-mites and Brecht. He’s a knob cheese.

About six or seven foot down the official scroll of scary stuff in this here world of ours (the list is written in Times New Roman, font size 12) is a strange Manchester based artist called Snide.

I call him Terrapin because it sounds good and he regularly appears in damp shadows, snapping and barking at strangers like he’s chewing on pine cones.

He’s got some lovely music mind you (even if just a whiff of schnapps can make this normally very pleasant individual slip into a pair of barbed wire suspenders and yelp bile like a crazed necromancer in prison). Here’s a downloadable version of his cover of The Abodes, ‘Why My God’. Think comprehensible Mark E Smith meets Massive Attack via early Adam Green and your vaguely nearby…

(MP3) Snide – Why My God

He’s got a MySpace site too. Check it out…

http://www.myspace.com/snidehowkins