No hope no future, just noise.






Middle class, semi detached, Hackney based house. You are the invisible invader. Open the door. At the ground floor, in the living room, on the settie you see two middle aged, sensefully dressed- pearl necklaces, spotless dresses, well-permed hair and all- ladies. They are having afternoon tea and biscuits.

- Margery, dear, that garden of yous is such an delightful sight. A true jewel to the house. You are truly worthy of congratulations!
-(Looking downwards with a look of moderation yet constrained satisfaction). Oh, thank you, Elinor, dear. It is simply a pleasure for me, looking after my precious flowers. And a well looked after garden should be an addition to all English homes. Sugar with that tea of yours?
-No, thank you dear, doctor's orders... I do agree, it is certainly so. And those peonies, such a vision, a pleasure to the eye.
- Yes, aren't they? I plan on adding a small statue soon, perhaps one of the muses, i must think about it... it should be something appropriate and descent nonetheless... Biscuit dear?
-Well, i shouldn' t but, you are such an excellent cook... well it wouldn't hurt trying one, would it?( giggling) oh, i am sure you will make an excellent choice about the statue... You have such good taste and...

They are inturrupted by menacing drones soon joined by loud growls of bass lines and razor sharp punk guitars. To make things even worse, a voice that appears to belong to a spirit pocessed female creature that is being raped by the devil himself, or more appropriately, raping him herself starts spitting out offensive lines coming in staight from hell. The unholly sound appears to be crushing in from the top floor, causing Margery to spill part of her tea on her lap, and Elinor to choke on her cookie.

-Margery, dear, where in good earth is this dreadful noise coming from?
-Elinor, i must apologize, these children today have simply no respect. I have so many times tried talking some sense into that child's head. It is simply a waste of time. Oh Elinor, i am simply desperate... What is this country coming to?

Same middle class home. Go to top floor.Open the first door: teenage bedroom, walls plastered with posters of Be your own pet, Yeah, yeah, yeahs, Siouxsie Sioux. Two svelte, black haired teenage girls are sitting on the bed browsing though what appears to be one of thems cd collection. One of them fetches a cd with a photo of a ruined city landscape on the sleeve and shoves it into the other ones face.

-Hey, who are these blokes?Never heard o' them.
-Man, you' re so clueless. They 're Cold in Berlin.Punk, man. That is some top shit you are holding there. They have a bitch for a singer who spits her lungs out.
-So what am i going to hear, man?
- You are about to experience some out of contol punky guitars flirting with an electro edge along with some kickass-fuck-you-very-much lyrics delivered by the lady i just mentioned. She starts swearing and won't stop, i don't know how many fuck yours are there in the lyrics. Her name is My and i am telling you man, the bitch is wild. Shall i put it on?
- What you waiting for man? Who the fuck you think you are, fucking Loud and Quiet? Shut your mouth and press play.

Presses play, and the sound floods the room. They start speaking louder now.

-This is really cool man....ferocious...Is the bitch saying what i think she is at the opening line?
- Aha... She goes like : "I had a girl and she was perfect/so I decided I’d fuck her. And even though she had a boyfriend/oh god I knew I had to have her". In yer face, madame.
- Fucking awesome!
-Well what you waiting for?
TURN THE FUCKING VOLUME UP!

God I Love You by coldinberlin