No, not the lead singer of UB40 Alistair Campbell. Although this picture is rare seeing as it is the only picture ever taken of a man farting through his face instead of his arsehole.
See? They're not the same, but anyway, thats how angry I was.
I was in a shop, a music retail shop in the 1990's, having gone back there in a time machine (Obviously after going back in time to wake myself up before I pissed the bed at a friends sleepover, convinced a younger me to dump an ex-girlfriend before she dumped me and punching a younger version of myself in the face just before I said "Don't be so silly Darren!" In a primary school discussion, just some of the events that make me wake up in the night in a cold sweat. I left the one where I got caught masturbating on a bus because it makes an interesting come dine with me style annecdote.
Anyway, back in the early 90s I popped into a shop called Our price. Because I wanted to but an album on the day of release by a French band called Air. It was while I was browsing the A section that I chanced across the best of the 'Alan Parsons Project'.
Fucking disgraceful. The categorisation of this CD flys in the face of rules about where CD's should be placed alphabetically. The sensational Alex Harvey band plays by the rules and is filed in H alphabetically under H. The Steve Miller Band is filed under M and the Glen Miller Band is also filed under H albeit in the jazz section while applying to the same rules.
The Ed Miller band and the David Miller band also follow the same rules although they are not filed in rock & pop but in the politics section of the sunday times who's who of british 21st century politics.
What the fuck is going on, who the fuck does this wank think he is?
I went to the Hogs Head, (it was called this before it became the Slug & Lettuce some years later.) drank several beers for under 10 pound (Because drinking was cheaper back then) and planned my method of attack.
Like what the Japanese did in the late 30s against the Americans.
I decided that my only course of action was to write a letter to the infamous flaunter of alphabetic tradition, Alan fucking Parsons... it said...
Dear Alan
I can call you Alan can't I? Seeing as you ignore the fact that you should be filed under P in the rock & pop section of chain record shops as the first letter of your surname states, you fucking wanker. How dare you ignore the traditional set up of alphabetically by surname System which has served the customers of record shops so well in the past. You think you're special? you think that you're Madonna? you think you are Queen? you think you're the Beatles? well you're not, you may have won a Grammy (c) for best instrumental track in the early 80s but you're not above the alphabetical system that has served the hallowed music retail customer so well for so many years. Even Busta Rhymes (not even his real name! his real name is Trevor!) understands how important this system is in helping customers get what they want in a demanding marketplace...
You have 30 days to explain yourself or I expect to see you on uxbridge highstreet for a duel to the death.
Yours
Manmachine201.
[end of letter]
Trevor.
day one... No reply.
day two... No reply
day three... no reply
day four... no reply
day five... no reply
day six... no reply
day seven... no reply
day eight... no reply
day nine... no reply
day 10... no reply
ect.
on the 29th day I recieved a letter from Alan Parsons himself.
Dear Manmachine201
I appear to have upset you, for that I can only apologise. It appears that there are crossed wires here and that you are angry for a fault not my own. You see it is not me that decided where MY CD's are placed on the racks of your local record shop. Just so you know I am a person and not a CD so stating that I am in the racks is a bit weird. Anyway, I digress, It is not my decision where my albums are placed in the racks in record shops. That is the decision of the people working in Our Price's catalogue department. Take it up with them, and leave me alone, you mental fucker.
Love
The Alan parsons project xx
And why wouldn't he look smug? he won a grammy a million years ago.
I was not happy with this response and sent an open letter to the Daily Mail proclaiming myself to be the timelord and stating that I wanted a pre match style press conference with Parsons. I was refusing to even acknowledge the fact that he had a christian name. A direct challenge to the autocracy set up by Parsons when he allowed himself to be filed under A.
This was my next line of attack. He may not have been responsible for the fact that his CD's are filed under A but he knew about it. He's visited record shops and he's made a bee line for his CD's.
Essentially worse than anything Hitler ever did.
So there we were, in madison square garden facing off, all over the fact that he was filed in the wrong place. It was at this point that I realized that I myself had taken the argument too far. I'd filed a complaint with the European Court of Human Rights, I'd worked tirelessly for charities to raise awareness for artists deliberately being filed in wrong sections of chain record stores. Was I really angry about this or was it something else and I had chosen this battle in place of a battle I should really have been fighting?
Let it go. She's filed under G. For Gone.
If you're still out there Alan, I'm sorry. A lot has happened since you won you're grammy. I-tunes, the internet, the rise of the minidisc, the fall of the minidisc, dance music, less bufty haircuts, the decline of beards as a fashion statement. In short, a lot of water has passed under the bridge. In time I have learned not to be so angry and I am sorry for beating the fuck out of you in Madison Square gardens in the early 90s and I'd like to do a diet with you.
Once more, I understand that there are more important things to be upset about than where things are filed.
Manmachine201
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