I am. I do.
I am. I do.
When I was but a fledgling Legend!, I had but three main poetic influences when I wasn’t dreaming of being in Buzzcocks or Ramones before realising I was never smart enough to simplify. The three main poetic influences were… the music behind corporationpop reminds me of the music behind two of them, created by The Invisible Girls. (Or not. I’m not a fucking historian.) That is the name of the band, not yet another feminist diatribe although rightly so if it is so. John Cooper-Clarke, Patrik Fitzgerald and Anne Clark. Actually, the music behind all three. Evocative, calming, sparky, electronic, strange rhythmical music… uh… mood music. Now I find I need to place a whole bunch of video placeholders in so you do not miss my point.
Check these out.
Check corporationpop out as well, while you’re at it. She is the reason we are convening here after all. From up North, doubtless. Now, I was never smart nor caustic nor focused nor drunk enough to be even a shadow of what she is. (One of these is a lie.) She has a song called ‘Before The NME Was Free’. The link to this latter song will open your mind up to new treasure trails if you decide to follow it. Are you ready for that? You might not be ready for it.
She is dark, inward-turned. (Is there anyone who is inward-turned who isn’t dark?) Incisive like a cutting blade.
Observational, despairing, witty. Suburban beat poetry for the disenchanted, disinherited, atonally dispirited generation. Authentic in a world where the word has lost all meaning. Altruistic – she gives of herself and sprinkles magic. Of course she reminds me of my new suburban Southern sweethearts.
I am so fucking predictable.
There’s a new EP from the lady. You can buy it. Support the arts at a time when THE GOVERNMENT REALLY WOULD RATHER YOU DIDN’T. Go on. Stick it to The Man… someone, anyone please.
Two more. Let us trace the dots. All these ancient symbols and tracing do not reflect on the artist I am discussing, incidentally. They just reflect on me.
I do not know about you, but sometimes the descriptions do it way more than enough for me.
From the suburban kitchen of Northern poet Elise Hadgraft, emerges corporationpop – a drunken romp through spoken word, electroclash and synthpop with a knowing nod to St. Jarvis Cocker. ‘The Chester Road Demos’. Fans can be assured the live performance is every bit as bitter.
An innovator of 21st Century beat poetry, she blends female-centric narratives with catchy synthpop beats, and has been described as everything from a “sardonic electro-poet” to “The Human League meets Sylvia Plath”.
Sick of being artistically ripped off and relegated to the role of ‘feminist poet girlfriend’, corporationpop emerged from Northern poet Elise Hadgraft’s late night drinking sessions in a suburban, Stockport kitchen.
All the above are as true and as bollocks as you choose to make them. ALL I EVER WANTED TO DO WAS TO GET YOU TO DANCE DOWN THE FUCKING FRONT OF CONCERTS, YOU BASTARDS. Me and Susan Williams would have had hissy fist fights over who loved this the more, back then. And even know he is flailing his fists in my memory, in appreciation of this.