OK, so my debut solo EP got a nice wee review in The List magazine the other day – very nice of them. Check it out here. But there was something about it I wasn’t too happy about. Can you guess what?
So I wrote a letter to the editor of the magazine. It went like this:
I’m writing to complain about Malcolm Jack’s review of my EP in the latest issue of The List. I have no problem with his comments about the music, which were lovely, but he cast aspersions on my footballing prowess (‘…who’d have got an extra star if he was any good at keepie-uppies’). How does he know I’m not any good at keepy-uppies? In fact, I’m pretty good at keepy-uppies, and can even reach triple figures on a good day. I’d like to see Mr Jack manage that with his pointy music journalist’s shoes and tight music journalist’s trousers. If Mr Jack ever fancies a game, he can meet me and my fellow sclaffers at Meadowbank Stadium’s outdoor pitches any Tuesday evening at 7pm. He should bring shin guards, just in case.
I hope they run it. And fingers crossed for Letter of the Month – I believe there’s some booze-related prize for that.
Ach, good times.
In my defence, I’ll echo the words of lazy footballer Zlatan Ibrahimovic in relation to his feud with fellow pro John Carew: “Whatever he can do with a football, I can do with an orange.”