THE UNRECOGNISED ARTISTS' LIBERATION FRONT

Did you hear him on the High Street?  You couldn’t have failed to.  That sad, pony tailed bastard blowing into a saxophone and producing notes just at the correct pitch to exacerbate your Sunday morning hangover.  Each one calculated to be only just out of tune.  Tell me, did you feel sorry for him and give him money?  Or did you walk past, your teeth gritted, shooting him a disgusted look?  Well, we’ve got something to tell you; his name’s Manuel, he’s one of the most talented saxophonists of our time and he’s one of us – a member of the Unrecognised Artists' Liberation Front (UALF).

Manuel started playing the sax aged ten and did a Masters in classical and contemporary music, learning the theory of making beautiful sound.  After university, he attended auditions, coming close, but never quite getting through.  He wrote his own songs, putting them on the internet to find no-one wanted them.  He got radio time only at 3am, when insomniacs, exhausted shift workers or alcoholics listen.  He was near suicide when he found us.  He came to his first meeting full of hate for a youth obsessed society that won’t give an overweight musician pushing forty a chance.  We were able to tell him he’s extremely talented, but in fact people don’t want real music.  They like nostalgic shit from their childhoods or tunes from drama-lorn teens recruited by talent shows.  No fans of this dubious form of television want to watch Manuel’s sweat glistening, as he blows beautiful notes into his instrument.

We told Manuel the perfect way to get revenge.  We instructed him to go to the High Street and play as badly as he possibly could.  Make thousands of people suffer for rejecting his music with the only weapon he has.  At first it offended him, but gradually his self esteem grew as he saw how he could irritate and jar the ears of passersby, turning their nice day at the shops into a migraine.

Further, heard that tinny, souless shit that sucks the life out of you somewhere recently?  That’s written by an UALF artist.  Carly couldn’t get her revolutionary TechEuphoricGarageHouseTrance music into mainstream.  So she joined us and made dismal easy listening tunes which we distributed widely to supermarkets and NHS waiting rooms.  Thanks to Carly, our misery is reverbrating round your brains long after you’ve had your instrusive medical examination.

Soon there will be a Manuel on every High Street and Carly’s music will be in all public buildings.  We won’t stop there though.  Watch out on your next local Open Mic. Night - the naval gazing poet whose lyrics don’t flow, the offensive, depressing comic and the story teller who forgets the plot halfway through and has to shuffle through heaps of notes.  Throw your beer glasses at them if you dare, but you will not perturbe us.  We’re sick of your shallow, unappreciating natures.  We will permeate all art forms.  We will dominate the World.