Sleaford Mods - Nü Punk
Monthly Media Obsession
Hello Beautiful People!
I wasn’t going to publish this originally, I wrote it, put it in scheduled, and then heard the substackers writing about substack in my head, “Keep to your niche,” they say.
Well, to be honest, I don’t want to care about that, even if I knew what that was. Today, I reopened this draft while sitting at the car dealership, waiting for my third flat tire within twelve months to be changed. I knew exactly what I needed as soon I saw the sheet metal screw in the near-new tire yesterday: change the music from the lovey-dovey Sam Garrett, to my latest punk obsession.
Occasionally, I run into some form of media that I can’t get enough of and can’t stop talking about. This past month, as a way of processing events, from flat tires to the news cycles, I’ve been replaying the discography of Sleaford Mods.
Maybe I’ll write one of these every month as a side quest: no boxes: any form of media. Maybe to balance intentional creation with intentional consumption?
Nü Punk
If you aren’t a fan of punk music, try the second video/song, Shortcummings, below and then decide if this post is for you.
I’ve noticed two co-evolutions in punk music in the last decade or so. For one, punk sound has grown in scope - it isn’t just a four person rock band format. Like Hip-hop’s evolution, punk in it’s 21st century form, is creeping into sounds normally left for other genres. The other evolutionary trend I’m following is lyrical.
Punk lyrics aren’t antagonizing “the man,” like they once did, they aren’t aimed at “them.” Punk lyrics are more and more aimed at “us.” Aimed at, “what the hell am I doing about it?”
Sleaford Mods
I first came across Sleaford Mods via the process of transitioning away from Spotify - reading music editorials online. My research tripped the IG algorithm, and soon I saw the following music video for the song Good Life on the album “Demise of Planet X.”
Sleaford has given me a perfect outlet for feelings I have towards recent events in the world that I have no retroactive power over. My inner teenager’s angst at the imperfections in society gets the attention he needs, while I bop my head to songs like Shortcummings on the album “Spare Ribs:”
Founded way back in 2007 in Nottingham, England, Sleaford Mod has that abrasive tone that says we’re going to feel our less fun feelings; a tone that sands down the rough spots caused by life. Yet, all the while the lyrics have a good chance of making you laugh at the machine, as much as rage against it. Sleaford Mod’s song Jobseeker is pure Nü-punk gold, and reflects (satirically) what looking for a job feels like when you’re done caring.
This side quest is to accompany the more focused writings on Inner Magic; writings focused on exploring our inner experience through storytelling.