The The?
Yes.
Yes?
No, The The.
Who?
No, not The Who, The The.
The what now?
I said The The.
Who?
Screw it, Its frikkin Robbie Robertson.
Wasn't he in The Band?
Which band?
THE Band.
Yes.
No, not Yes, The Band.
Do they sing August and September?
They sing all year round.
Isn't that a book by Ann Druit?
Yes.
Crypes, nevermind.
Nirvanna?
Whats on the radio?
TV.

The The?
Yes.
Yes?
No, The The.
Who?
No, not The Who, The The.
The what now?
I said The The.
Who?
Screw it, Its frikkin Robbie Robertson.
Wasn't he in The Band?
Which band?
THE Band.
Yes.
No, not Yes, The Band.
Do they sing August and September?
They sing all year round.
Isn't that a book by Ann Druit?
Yes.
Crypes, nevermind.
Nirvanna?
Whats on the radio?
TV.

The The?
Yes.
Yes?
No, The The.
Who?
No, not The Who, The The.
The what now?
I said The The.
Who?
Screw it, Its frikkin Robbie Robertson.
Wasn't he in The Band?
Which band?
THE Band.
Yes.
No, not Yes, The Band.
Do they sing August and September?
They sing all year round.
Isn't that a book by Ann Druit?
Yes.
Crypes, nevermind.
Nirvanna?
Whats on the radio?
TV.

Perfection. Not one thing could possibly improve this song. (Nearly a perfect album too).

The The?
Yes.
Yes?
No, The The.
Who?
No, not The Who, The The.
The what now?
I said The The.
Who?
Screw it, Its frikkin Robbie Robertson.
Wasn't he in The Band?
Which band?
THE Band.
Yes.
No, not Yes, The Band.
Do they sing August and September?
They sing all year round.
Isn't that a book by Ann Druit?
Yes.
Crypes, nevermind.
Nirvanna?
Whats on the radio?
TV.

And yet you seem to have remarked on it....hmmmm.

What a totally unremarkable song.

This song may have made my night.

Did you paste all that from someplace or just have too much coffee!!

It is often said that Matt Johnson’s absences between projects are longer than most band’s entire careers. It is probably true. Through line up changes, music business battles, phases of hedonism and madness, banned works, lost albums, relationship schisms and exile, Johnson has never shied from his vocation: testifying to the dark truths of our times and exploring the inner corridors of the heart. Not a single cheap shot or easy ride. After all this time, it’s starting to make sense. A fan of Dylan, Lennon, and Hank Williams, a father and a seeker, Matt Johnson is a proper, living national treasure. Although he was a couple of years too young to be hit by the full impact of UK punk his urge to make music was more a matter of inner demons than surrounding scenes. The son of publicans who used to promote gigs at their pub and in dance halls across the East End of London he grew up with John Lee Hooker, The Kinks and The Small Faces, amongst others, dropping by his parent’s hostelry. He began performing in his own band, Roadstar, at the age of 11. By 17, he had placed an advertisement in the NME to recruit members to his earliest version of The The, that read ; “Influences; The Residents, Syd Barrett, Throbbing Gristle, Velvet Underground.” They made their debut as a prototype electronic duo at London’s Africa Centre on May 11th 1979 and began playing shows with many of the most important bands of that era such as Cabaret Voltaire, The Birthday Party, Wire, This Heat, DAF, before clawing their way onto indie labels 4AD and Some Bizarre, the former releasing a 1981 debut “Burning Blue Soul” as Matt Johnson. Within two years, Matt’s nom-de-studio, TheThe would release the most critically-acclaimed album of the year, 1983’s synth-noir classic “Soul Mining”on CBS records. A further three years along Johnson’s journey into the heart’s darkness, he’d be risking death, strapped to a metal caged chair on top of a boat on the Amazon for “Infected”” the movie. Charting the limits of the soul within a pop career, while surrounded by big business and cynical 80’s music, was never going to be a smooth ride, but Johnson had a dedication that bordered on insanity. Behind the crafted heart searching on the singles collection “45 rpm “ lies an epic story. Studio psychosis in New York and Hunter Thompson-style road trips with manager Stevo lie behind the recording of early singles “Uncertain Smile” and “Perfect”. The mammoth 1986 “Infected” album project- which led to The The breaking through commercially with singles like “Sweet Bird Of Truth” and “Heartland” and the duet with Neneh Cherry on “Slow Train To Dawn” also saw Johnson hanging with Tom Waits in New York, and heading for personal meltdown, filming the stunt-filled, groundbreaking long form video in South America. No phase of The The’s progress has been without drama to match the intensity on record. By the time of the globally railing “Mind Bomb” album of 1989 - with its banned religious war-alerting single “Armageddon Days”- Johnson was pushing engineers and producers towards nervous breakdowns while mind-surfing on meditation, grape diets and magic mushroom tea. Controversially, he recruited Irish singer/songwriter Sinead O’Connor and The Smiths’ guitar ace Johnny Marr to join the band and toured the world, topping off with three wild nights at London’s Royal Albert Hall. The evolution of Johnson’s writing is tightly bound with his personal odyssey. The beautiful singles from 93’s UK No 2 hit album “Dusk” – “Love Is Stronger Than Death” and “Slow Emotion Replay” – are shaded by family bereavements. Having shipped out to New York, preferring to conduct from afar his ongoing tussle with the meaning of Britishness, he pulled off a vindicatory feat, covering Hank Williams songs on 1995’s “Hanky Panky” (including ‘45’s stomping “I Saw The Light” single). It was voted one of the country albums of the year in the US. The refusal to accept that politics, economics and religion are too ‘heavy’ for mere pop music has led to many a misperception about Johnson. His acerbic insight was regularly seen as presumptuous. However, against the recent tidal wave of music as blank noise ’45rpm’ reveals him as a precious, threatened species. After years of being regarded as overzealous due to the desire to talk about globalisation, environmentalism and religious extremism, (both in song and interview) Johnson has entered the new century with a back catalogue of lyrics more in tune with recent events than anyone. Concerns of country and planet do not, however, dominate on ’45rpm’. There is as much there about sex and city, relationships from a woman’s eye view (“DecemberSunlight”). Few who recall the song from the 80s, and many who will discover it in the 2000s, will be able to resist a soul-shiver as the words from ‘This Is The Day’ touch a shared raw nerve of hope and frustration: “This is the day your life will surely change/This is the day when things fall into place”. Roger Morton