Ahh, it's December 2000 in South Shields- a desolate former-industrial town on Englands north-east coast. A lonely 15 year-old with nothing better to do decides to kill a couple of hours in a record shop. Picks up a record- Machina: the Machines of God. Knew a little of the band. Listened to the first two songs- jesus! Didn't care if the rest of the album blew, I'm having this! Paid the £15 (had the record stolen. Paid £7 for a replacement- bless independant record stores now no longer with us)- ok, it did loose it's lustre after a while, though it comes back occasionaly.

All this is neither here nor there- what the Pumpkins gave was a voice for the dissafected- those too freakish for the freaks. Not a moping, self-pitying voice, but a celebratory one. For that, I am, and I'm sure we all are, eternally thankfull.

_____________________________________________

http://www.myspace.com/dogsareeverywhereitellyou