Everyone my age is obsessed with one really obscure band that has at most four fans who will never meet. In my case it’s the Sex Gang Children, an olde-thyme “Halloween-themed” punk band, so to speak, who haven’t been together for twenty years or so. In the next issue of Ye Dailie Douphous I’ll write an authoritative discourse on their genre.
The Sex Gang Children like to leave listeners with a sense of disquiet. Since many people these days hate disquiet and listen to music for the same reason kids squeeze their eyes shut, put their hands up to their ears like headphones and chant “la la la I’m not listening la la la,” I’m usually pretty cold and alone in my Sex Gang fandom.
Although sometimes I wish I could relate to more people musically, I’ve noticed that people who can relate to each other musically invariably have an uninteresting taste in music. I mostly mean people my age who listen to boring indie bands that have only been popular for about two months, and will only remain so for another two, despite having apparently existed for twenty-four years. These are the kind of people who use the word "hipster."
The Sex Gang Children were all the rage for the youngsters in London during the winter of ‘82-’83. I guess for me it's just a matter of being in the wrong continent at the wrong millennium. People only like love songs, because in this impersonal, screen-and-disk-based western world, that is the last thing any of us are finding. I think a way to see if someone loves you is if they’ll listen with you to the only music that matters to you, not if what you have in common is an enjoyment of the latest EP by Polar Bears On Ice.
I keep getting off topic. I guess my point is that the Sex Gang Children are a hip band with an edgy name. And as everyone knows, if you’re not edgy, you might as well spay or neuter yourself, as the vocalist of the Sex Gang Children may just have done.
Daily & The Doofi