BIGSOUND 'Wasn't Ready' For SPA Confidential

After a week of suffering fools and posers that collectively refer to themselves as “music industry” I have decided to abandon a music career and instead reposition myself in the market.

I have rethought my stance from last week. BIGSOUND wasn't ready for my art to be unleashed. You all just wanted the “new grunge”, “the post-hardcore”, that guy who could remix your popette “dubstep style” or “a garage band that gets naked” (and yeah, we know you've “always loved garage rock”…).

I knew from hour one as I chewed on canapés and looked out across whatever that river is next to GOMA, that this room of delegates was never going to get my brand of post-emo chillstep improvised performance art. Sorry for not being a pretty young thing with a guitar.

I knew that no self-respecting lovers of fine music would stand around exchanging tidbits of salacious gossip (“you didn't hear it from me but…”) and breast-beating stories of bravado (“I did the syncing deal with the Croatian film company myself – we expect traction in their Yahoo streaming charts next month”) while there was a wondrous installation of tractor tyre tubes to admire below in the GOMA foyer. These people can't even appreciate art when it is literally right under their noses.

And, as I expected, the owners of theMusic came knocking on my door, asking if I could possibly return to the fold as they could find no one to replace me (seems I'm a “unique specimen”… must look up that word “specimen”, it sounds good). And so I understand I am needed.

I am back to be the gatekeeper of the industry conscience. You can keep your Ric's Bar tabs, queue-jumping wristbands and front row seats at “the Judy”… but just remember I'm watching (or, at least, following you on Twitter and checking your Klout ranking).