The Bobby Gillespie Bullshit game

The guy is, and always has been a patronising cock, and primal scream are the worst band to come out of the UK since the '80's at least, and possibly ever.

BG: Ehh..I don't know. I think I always wanted to be a singer but I didn't realise it. I always wanted to be a guitar player because I loved guitar players in bands. I became a singer through default. We were writing these songs and I wanted to play guitar and we kept asking these people to sing and they were terrible so I stepped in.

So there was five of us, Andrew Innes on guitar, me on vocals, Jaki Leibezeit on drums, Michael Karoli on guitar and Liam Gallagher on one finger piano. We jammed our arses off, till five in the morning, hard and heavy on a two-chord Karoli groove, what a night! I'll never forget it. We all fell out of the studio arm-in-arm and walked up the road high and happy, blasted by the magick of Can, The Can!

There's plenty more where that came from as well- I couldn't believe they'd published such utter name-dropping drivel!

I didn't know he was a Suzi Quatro fan.

"After spending a week jamming with Quatro, the Scream determined that 'Leather Forever' would be like part of our ten-point plan to wipe out the fascists that dare like cross our path. We have one of Suzi's Leather Tuscadero outfits hanging in the back room of the Scream Team hideout."

No you don't. I can confirm by eyewitness that you spend at least three days a week wheeling a kid filled pram up and down the Holloway Road, and another couple of days a week flopping around in the fucking Sobell leisure centre in N7.

"We're a hardworking band."

You and your 'hardworking' band and gargantuan team of gargantuan roadies threw a lazy wobbler and had my band's performance pulled from the slot preceeding Primal Scream's at a Dublin festival last year because "You have too much gear and take up too much room on stage". We're a three piece!

-- greypejooze (greypejooz...), September 21st, 2006.

tell us more! miserable celebrities i love it.

Next, you'll be telling us he was taking vitamin supplements.

Primal Scream strike me as a band that almost certainly played the ol' "bedsheet mystery record grab" game while on tour...and I'm sure BG always won...

This single quote was densely packed with high point-scoring words along the lines of 'beautiful 13-year old punk rock girl', 'nihilistic', 'dennis hopper' and the like. If anyone can track that one down, I'll be very impressed!

the movie in question is Out of The Blue, it does feature a beautiful 13-yo punk rock girl, is deeply nihilistic, and Dennis Hopper plays the punk girl's pervo-hippie father.

He needs to spend less time on the rock 'n' roll and more on tidying that mantelpiece

Alopecia areata
Areola non-grata
Medulla oblongata

Fascistic state
Suck my soul
Going down the drain
In a hole
Soul
Soul
Soul

Syphilitic parasitic parasites (x 25)

Yeh (x 15)

Speaking in an interview with Q magazine, Bobby Gillespie says he offered the singer a combination of drugs including ecstasy, speed and cocaine, but she politely declined.

"We did try. We tried to give her an LDC - a lethal drug cocktail. Ecstasy, speed, cocaine, methadone, valium all crushed up. One of the guys offered it to her, but she said, 'Thanks but no thanks.' She was very ladylike," he states.

xxp
Ah, ye see, when ye make someone an honorary family member, it's no' about the coin or the wage. It's about the bonds, the kinship, the ties that bind ye together

"Shane, lemme help ya oan tae the stage here...aye, just squeeze past Duffy and his organs. Wits that? Aye, ye'll get the 'enhanced' session players wage for singin' tonight that we talked aboot...no, no dinnae worry, ol' Duffy knows wits guid for haim, he's on the basic rate".

I missed this bit of Boaby news...

https://www.thefashionisto.com/hm-holiday-2023-campaign/

Bobby Gillespie and his sons Lux and Wolf have been chosen to star in clothing company H&M’s holiday 2023 campaign. They have just arrived at photographer Mikael Jansson's studio.

Boab: Fer fuck's sake, try an' be a bit mair... street... an' don't be comin' oot wi any o' yer toffee nosed patter, by the way.

Wolf: But papa, you and mama did pay for us to have a very expensive private education, you cannot expect us to converse like common street urchins.

Boab: Aye, well at least try an' look like common street urchins! Huv ye no' learned any'hin' fae yer auld man? Ah've been fuckin' dinin' oot fer years oan ma deprived childhood as a Tenement Kid despite comin' fae Mount Florida... here, did ye know ah wrote a book aboot it?

Photographer: Bobby! Come on in! And this must be...

Boab: This is Wolf and that yin hidin' at the back therr is Lux. Stupid fuckin' names ah know, ah wahnted tae ca' them Darren and Barry but the wife thoat different... any'hin' fer an easy life though, am ah right?

Photographer: Er, absolutely, I'll just let you get yourselves prepared while I carry on setting up.

Boab: Fire away, big yin, fire away!

Turning back to his sons.

Boab: Right, you two, afore we go any further, let's huv some ground rules. Nae "sayin' cheese", ye've goat tae look as crabbit and torn faced as me. Ah've goat ma image tae consider. Ma public expect me tae be mean, moody and magnificent and be kickin' aboot wi ma face permanently fuckin' trippin' me, no' grinnin' like a fuckin' jackass... and the same goes fer ma boeys, they've goat tae look like miserable cunts tae.

Wolf: Oh that'll be no problem, papa.

Lux (petulantly): We have actually modelled before, papa, we do know our way round a photographer's studio.

Boab (to Wolf): Here, hark it him! Thinks he's fuckin' Naomi Campbell aw o' a sudden!

Lux: I don't want to do this stupid photoshoot anyway, papa! I'm supposed to be meeting Rupert, Allegra and Piers for tiffin at three! It's all so dashed inconvenient!

Wolf: Yes, I'm expected at Ophelia, Persephone and Ferdinand's for five. This is awfully burdensome, papa.

Boab: Awfy burdensome? I'll awfy burdensome you in a minute, ya ungrateful wee cu...

Bobby's reprimand is cut off by his phone ringing.

Boab: Fuck... who's this... oh here it's yer Granda Gillespie, whit's the auld cunt efter noo?

Boab: Hullo?

*muffled voice on the other end of the phone*

Boab: Ah'm in the middle o' a fuckin' photoshoot wi' ma boeys, da!

*muffled voice*

Boab: Aye, ah've no' forgoatten.

*muffled voice*

Boab: Fer fuck sake da! Ah'm (looks around, covers phone and lowers voice) 62.

*muffled voice*

Boab: Awright... ah will... ah will...

*muffled voice*

Boab: Naw, ah don't wahnt tae hear aboot how your attempt tae win the Govan by-election in 1988 was sabotaged by Robert Maxwell, naeb'dy wahnt's tae hear that...

*muffled voice*

Boab: Listen da, let it go...

*louder muffled voice*

Boab: ... da... da... it never happened... (sotto voce) Christ, no' this again...

*even louder muffled voice*

Boab (rolling eyes): Aye, da, ye were a great candidate, it wisnae your fault ye loast wan o' the safest Labour seats in the country tae the SNP...

*muffled voice louder still*

Boab: Aye, right da, the Tartan Tories ah know, ah know, ah've fuckin' heard it a million times...

*and louder*

Boab: ... da... da... ah've goat tae go! Right? Tell maw we'll see her efter Hogmanay...

*muffled voice*

Boab: ... right ... right. See ye.

*muffled voice*

Boab (turning to his sons): See that fuckin' Granda o' yours? He's fuckin' delusional, so he is. Aw he does is make stuff up that didnae happen, or try an' make oot he wis at the centre o' every'hin' that ever happened in the world. He's constantly inflatin' his own importance and bummin' aboot his achievements and aw the fuckin'...

Suddenly notices that both his sons and the photographer have gone very quiet and are looking somewhat sheepish.

Boab: ... whit? (suddenly animated) Here, huv we goat a fuckin' photoshoot oan here or whit? We've goat some shite fuckin' claes tae sell, boeys!

Jansson: Er, yeah. Can we have all three of you over here.

Boab: Nae bother, big yin.

Jansson: Now can we have a little bit of a smile...

Boab: ... let me stoap ye right there.

Has something Bobby G related happened? (Asking based on a fairly random Twitter post).

idk, has another of his employees died in penury after getting a rough deal from him? that was the last thing he got cancelled for

He's voting Labour after all?

Rocky Erikson, Keir Starmer - Thay baith shagged donkies fur sterters

He recorded a video in support of Corbyn's campaign which, when posted on the Vote Corbyn twitter account, got deluged with replies calling him a cunt and bringing up his treatment of Martin Duffy. The Vote Corbyn people called him Bobbie Gillespie lol.

The day after the night before, Jeremy Corbyn is sitting in his constituency office with his PA, going through his appointments for the day.

Jeremy: There's a note here to say a "Bobbie Gillespie" wants to meet today, do I know this woman?

PA: That's not a woman. He's a well known singer, well, when I say well known...

Jeremy: ...a folk singer?

PA: Not quite, he sings with a band called Primal Scream...

Jeremy: Oh! Should I know them?

PA: They were popular in the 1990s but they've not really done much lately.

Jeremy: Oh well, you know me, I will always make time for constituents who are down on their luck.

The intercom rings.

Receptionist: Jeremy, I have a... I'm sorry what was your name again?

Voice in the background.

Boaby: Just tell him it's Boaby, he's expecting me, hen.

Receptionist: Er... a Mr. Bo Peep ....

Boaby: Boaby! Boaby Gillespie!

Jeremy: Ah Mr Gillespie, send him in.

Boaby flings open the door and stands triumphantly, arms outstretched.

Boaby: We did it!

Jezza: Er, yes, it appears we did.

Boaby: You and me, big yin, whit a team! Come ower here...

Jeremy hesitates.

Boaby (stretching arms even wider): Come oan!

Jeremy rises from his chair and Boaby gives him the Boaby equivalent of a bear hug.

Boaby: And they said it couldnae be fuckin' done! (whispering in Corbyn's ear) And mibbes it widnae huv if it hudnae been for yours truly, the bold Boaby!

Boab eventually relinquishes his hold on Jeremy who is relieved to make his way back behind his desk.

Jeremy: Yes, well all 24,000 voters played their part.

Boaby: Yer fuckin' no' jokin' therr, auld yin! That's fuckin' democracy fur ye! Even fuckin' insignificant naebodies can make a contribution, no' jist important cunts like you and me, Jezza...

Jeremy: ... well that's not quite what I meant but...

Boaby (oblivious): ... ah mean, ma wee promotional veedeo obviously helped get the young yins on board, otherwise it would huv been aw doddery auld cunts like yersel' votin', nae offence...

Jeremy (slightly irritated, to his PA): What age is this guy?

Boaby (still oblivious): ... and who better tae appeal tae the disaffected youth o' Islington North than someone capable o' speakin' their language, tho' huvvin' said that ah've goat nae idea whit the fuck they're sayin' maist o' the time...

PA (rifling through her notes): Er, 63, Jeremy.

Jeremy: Ah right, I remember now, you recorded an appeal to voters...

Boaby: Aye, o' course ah did! Whit, huvvin' a wee senior moment there, Jezza? Nae offence...

Jeremy bristles and shifts in his chair.

Jeremy (changing the subject rapidly): So, er, Bobby, have you lived in the constituency long?

Boaby: Aye fer fuckin' donkeys, mate, man and boey. Broat ma kids up here an' everyhin'.

Jeremy: So they'll have attended one of our fine local state schools.

Boaby's turn to shift uneasily in his chair and rapidly change the subject.

Boaby: Aye... well, er ... came doon here fae fuckin' Glesga wi' no' so much as a fuckin' brass farthing...

PA (sotto voce to Jeremy): He moved here from Brighton in the 2000s.

Boaby (in full storytelling mode): ... aye, followed the same path as so many puir Scots in times gone by, forced tae leave their ain fowk and weel kent faces behind (voice cracking with emotion)and tak the low road tae seek a better life doon South...

Jeremy (trying to interrupt): ... well that's...

Boaby (pressing on regardless): ...aye it's a lang way fae the Bucky strewn backstreets o' Mount Florida. Who'd've thocht a mere tenement kid lik' me wid be instrumental in a disgraced former leader o' the Labour Party gettin' re-electit!

Jeremy: Yes, well, I have quite a lot to get through today, as you can imagine...

Boaby: Nae rest fur the wicked, eh, auld yin?

Jeremy: ... yes yes, you could say that, but it's been a pleasure, er, Bobby.

Boaby: The pleasure's aw mine, Jezza! Next time ye need ma help jist gie's a shout!

Jeremy ushering Boaby to the door.

Jeremy: Yes, I will.

Boaby: And ah know ye'll come down lik' a ton o' bricks on aw this antisocial behaviour that goes oan in ma neighbourhood. Ah mean, ah've fuckin' boaght ma hoose so ah shouldnae huv tae put up wi' a load o' fuckin' neds fae cooncil hooses. It's lik' bein' back in Mount Florida and huvvin' tae deal wi' Jim Kerr an' his young team fae Toryglen!

Jeremy: Er, yes, as I say I'm a very busy man.

Boaby: Ah know ah can count oan you, Jezza!

Boaby eventually is finally manoeuvred out of the room only to pop his head round the door.

Boaby: You scratch ma back, (winks) eh big yin?

The door closes and a relieved Corbyn stands with his back to it.

Jeremy (to his PA): Yes, what you were saying earlier about strengthening security in the constituency office, let's look into that.

lol

recently came across this actual Boaby bullshit in Rob Young's "All Gates Open: The Story of Can":

Irmin Schmidt: Do you remember which composition of Stockhausen you went to?

Andrew Innes: It was a piece with helicopters - and it was just beautiful.

Irmin Schmidt: THat's his string quartet with four helicopters. Each of the four musicians plays inside one of the helicopters. And they communicate with each other, as far as they can communicate, through that noise.

Bobby Gillespie: My dad doesn't drink any more, but before he went to this pub in Glasgow every Friday night. And one Friday night a helicopter crashed into the pub. There was a band on staf which was in the middle of playing, and some dust came down from the ceiling. The boys in the band said, "Wow, it looks like we brought the house down." Then the bar collapsed and eight people died. My dad didn't go to the pub on that night, because there was something wrong with his car. Normally he went to this pub exactly around the time when that helicopter crashed there.

Irmin Schmidt: Anyway, you mentioned Stravinsky...

The Clutha Vaults was the pub. Used to drink in there occasionally myself!

The boys in the band said, "Wow, it looks like we brought the house down."

lol, rock 'n' roll eh?

They certainly weren't playing Stockhausen I'm sure of that.

Also, Bob seems to be suggesting his dad was a regular drink driver.

“It’s redolent of the indomitable spirit of the Glaswegian.”

boak

"There is also a thread of compassion running through the album"

sure there is, Boab's wallet is sewn shut with threads o' compassion!

“The title is a Glaswegian term. If someone threatens to fight you, you say ‘come ahead’.

And then stick a broken bottle in their face, that's the indomitable and compassionate spirit of the Glaswegian right there. You can be sure that that phrase had never passed Bobby's lips before he had to dream up a title for the album.

His Da looks like a bell end too

The new song is...not completely worthless!

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3RGOlGca-j8

Yeah. David Holmes was heavily involved and I think he's also produced the forthcoming album