HE played them all the time, you preferred to avoid an argument, so you pretended Kasabian were good. You also have to live with these lies:
It’s just a man f**king shouting. But your university boyfriend was firmly into The Fall, decrying anyone who failed to recognise their genius as idiots and you didn’t want to be an idiot. Consequently you once had sex to Imperial Wax Solvent.
Guided By Voices
The American Fall, with 35 albums of growly garage to their credit. You got off with a guy during their Reading set and a week later he sent you a CD of theirs in the post. A week later another one. Ten CDs in, he stopped. Until another one a year later. Then he stopped.
No romance here – your gay friend’s a Mixer, DJs them at club nights, you go along, it’s fun enough to dance to, sure, you love Little Mix too! Why not? Two months later he texts ‘Omigod babes got us Mix tix FRONT f**king ROW you owe me £380’.
Not one specific man but every Tinder date claims to love the Beatles, so you have to claim you love the Beatles because you’re not being the date who says ‘the Beatles suck dick’, and you talk about the Beatles. But it turns out none of them ever play the Beatles.
It was dubious, how much he was into Bruce. Calling him the Boss, an LP of his denim ass proudly displayed, going on about his legendary stamina, just dedicated to an all-American working hunk of a man never suspected of being even a little bit gay. Best to keep quiet.
He has a lovely flow and seems a nice man, but Snoop’s lyrics are a little… focused, aren’t they? On women being nothing but sexual objects under his control? And murder? You had to play along, obviously, nobody likes a killjoy.
The most boring, basic rock band in existence, to the point their members were called Don, Glenn and Bernie. Their albums are lavish studio hymns to how much cocaine you can do and still be shit-dull. You still pretend they’re good so as not to upset your dad.