Worcestershire, England — Fans mourn the loss of former Lostprophets singer Ian David Karslake Watkins, who committed suicide early Wednesday morning in his cell at HM Prison Long Lartin.
Watkins was pronounced dead at 4:38 a.m. UTC. Cause of death was listed as “self asphyxiation, or suicide by hanging.” He was 36.
Watkins is survived by step-father and Baptist minister John Davies, his mother Elaine, and Daniel, his 24-year-old brother who distanced himself from Ian in the final months of the singer’s life. He is also survived by former Lostprophets musicians Lee Gaze, Mike Lewis, Stuart Richardson, Jamie Olider and Luke Johnson.
Inside reports suggest Watkins was facing pressure in the form of death threats from other inmates. Watkins was overheard remarking that he feared for his life.
Because no will was entered into the public record, Watkins’ continuing charitable contributions to the Kidney Wales Foundation for Children will cease.
The Watkins estate is to be turned over instead to the UK for disbursement into public works projects, as is customary in Wales when a convicted pedophile with enormous assets dies without a notorized will.
Watkins suffered in the wake of numerous convictions on sexual assault charges against children, for which he was sentenced to prison for 29 years last December. Authorities got involved when the Lostprophets frontman made plans to rape adoring fans and their babies. Prosecutors uncovered “the most shocking and harrowing child abuse the nation has ever seen.”
Senior investigating officers on Watkins’ case described him as a “committed, organised paedophile.” The judge, Mr. Justice Royce, said Watkins “plunged into new depths of depravity” referring to Watkins’ text messages to his victims: “If you belong to me, so does your baby.”
After entering his guilty plea, Watkins referred to his sex offenses as being “mega lolz.”
A photo uploaded to pop superstar Bruno Mars’ website Monday morning answered questions lingering among online communities and forums.
The photo heading “I THINK I’M GAY!” left no room for suggestion as to what the singer-songwriter could possibly mean – or a lot, depending on your imagination!
In 2011, Mars received six Grammy nominations, highlighting the tremendous progress made by the LGBT community within the music industry, following in the footsteps of legends such as Elton John, David Bowie and Ricky Martin.
Bruno Mars’ first album, Doo-Wops & Hooligans proved to be the third biggest-selling album of 2011 in the United Kingdom.
Mars is currently working on his second album after signing a worldwide publishing deal with BMG Chrysalis.
Corporate Rock sensation Redlight King was granted permission by Neil Young to sample [butcher] one of his finest works for the song.
The video features a skateboarder at the beginning, to rope in fans of Tony Hawk V or whatever’s next. It is cool.
Then, some undefinable hipster – wigger hybrids get in a fight, signifying the dissonance between the last generation’s ways and the pressures of today. So basically a confrontation between two irrelevant groups of people takes place, and you’re supposed to feel something. If your parents are white trash, then you can probably relate to what you see on-screen, maintaining the status quo.
Following this, a distraught-looking Weezer fan enters a bike shop and is confused by tires on the ceiling. The wheels in the sky keep on turning, maybe, but his life is obviously at a standstill – as signified by the fact he is in a Redlight King video. He thinks the motorcycle will take him places, perhaps now through his own bastardization of Easy Rider, minus the weed, because not only is marijuana for old fogies, but Redlight King tests for that stuff now.
The camera then pans across our straight-edge hipster biker-wigger moping in his Detroit squat of an apartment, while the words Old Man, look at my life shamelessly echo off the walls, washing over this embarrassment of a manchild you instantly identified with before realizing what a pussy he is; but it’s too late now.
He reviews disconnect notices for his iPhone and FiOs internet over a bowl of cereal, surrounded by pictures of a disappointed step-father.
Seeking fulfillment and quick cash, the antagonist enters a motorcycle race. He takes off and now you’re finally allowed to see a musical instrument, implying that Neil Young samples were not the only thing used for this song – that someone did in fact pick up a guitar, probably under duress, and most likely enveloped in anguish at the notion of having to resort to use of a talent. The lights are dim and we’re only shown the brief vibration of strings before the manchild reappears in a field after [losing] his motorcycle race.
The video ends on a disturbing note. Viewers discover that not only has the antagonist reproduced, he managed to score with a beautiful woman, ultimately creating this abomination:
Redlight King promotes unsustainable childbirth and theft of intellectual property. Neil Young is neither referenced nor apologized to throughout the course of the video, and you are dumber for watching it.
Redlight King is the trailer park hero of the modern South.
Redlight King is brought to you by Lebal Drocer, Incorporated.
In a move critics around the internet are hailing as “a relatively inconsequential hypocrisy,” art website Roanoke Revolution took down an “anti-nuclear weapons” article written by one of Roanoke’s finest underground artists.
It was a move not to keep from losing advertisers, nor did Billy’s article challenge the “magazine’s” ongoing narrative of reality, since as of June, they could not yet have one, this being only their third update. It hardly challenged any belief about anything whatsoever, unless of course their editor, Jovan Rahsman, doesn’t support nuclear non-proliferation.
But according to fans on his website, Billy Walshe is “not one to directly attack an issue head-on” in the way his article’s deletion suggests in the minds of some critical thinkers. In fact, Billy is oft referred to as the “Carl Sagan of Nukes” among those privy to his backward-ass ideologies.
“Billy loves nuclear weapons,” said Niall Coffey in an exclusive interview with The Elf Wax Times. “He talks about ’em all the time. He even describes what it feels like to be zapped by a nuke when I’m really stoned, and sometimes he won’t let me stop imagining it.” Coffey even went on to describe nightmares of a fictional nuclear holocaust Billy Walshe sadistically imposes on him, well after the fact, regularly in his sleep.
As of right now, the article is still deleted. However, an editor of Roanoke Jingodilution said they plan to replace Billy’s article with the following video “as soon as we learn HTML”:
Billy told Elf Wax he has notified his hate group of this injustice and now armed white supremacists comb the nighttime countryside, trying to help find the deleted article, or women to rape in his honor.
It is strongly suspected by Lebal Drocer Senior Executive Officers Walshe was targeted for who he is, or perhaps his affiliation with The Glorious And Infallible Elf Wax Times. It is for this reason the staff considers removal of his article a celebration of his apparent greatness and acknowledgment of their website’s inferiority, and embarrassing unworthiness of his material.
Billy Walshe is an accomplished Appalachian craftsman, woodworker, musician, visual artist and status quo minion. In his spare time, he collects pogs and marches to find the cure for Gross Lesbianism.
Billy Rape Cyrus joins callgirl daughter for on-stage duet about the dangers of sexting.
Los Angeles, Calif.–Billy Ray said sexting between family members is not considered incest and proposed the idea of legalizing child porn. He said it would “aid in the promotion” of his daughter’s newly famous crotch shots that got that guy in a lot of trouble.
Miley Cyrus gave the go ahead on sales of the photo when she realized she could no longer get by on her jailbait status alone.
Stay tuned for more details on the rapid decline of the Cyrus family country music sex dynasty as November 23 approaches.
This weekend, Blacksburg, VA played host to a music festival of a different kind. Hosted at several bars and art galleries around town, local and regional musicians of all stripes and abilities played with varying degrees of fever. I ended up managing part of a show, running the sound for a few bands, playing an open-mic, and photographing every single set I was a witness to. Problems aside, I had a good time.
I arrived in Blacksburg and parked within a hundred feet of the NLCF building, check in for the Fever to Sing festival. I spent over a half hour wandering around the block looking for any sign of a festival, stumped. I looked up the address and found my way on in. Several artists and musicians I interviewed had the same trouble. There was no signs, no groups of people coming or going, but the gears were churning inside.
The organizers were putting things together using some kind of online system, stressing and fretting over laptops wherever they went. The sound guys were often late, or unreachable, or went missing, but for the most part the bands were well on time and ready to go when needed. I changed the schedule, manually, with a pen on at least 50 fliers because certain shows were very much more than an hour late to begin. I suppose I was a volunteer too, as well as impromptu press, musician, and management.
There was a some awful trash that I wish I’d never seen. On the other hand, I saw great acts, such as the Bastards of Fate, the Andalusians, and Don’t Call Us Sweethearts.
The Bastards of Fate defy all explanation. Doug Cheatwood is a performance genius beyond compare. His songs are imaginatively written and musically unique, defying rules I didn’t even knew existed. Standing on an amp, holding up a guitar, blinded by shaving cream, construction light draped over his shoulder, and mic in hand, Doug Cheatwood is no gimmick hungry rocker. He is what punk rock was never smart enough to be, crazier and more ambitious, full of antics that wake sleepy fear-ridden audiences into a frenzy of dance and jubilation. Did I mention that the music’s catchy, well-written, and like nothing you’ve heard?
The Andalusians were a punkish woman-fronted band from DC, with loads of energy to back up their fun music. Such well written music played by obvious professionals was a welcome treat, and I especially appreciated how grounded and personal their presence was. These were proud, powerful women who were absolutely comfortable on stage and off. Sadly, that’s not something I see often. They were reminiscent of the best bits of The Clash.
I didn’t run the sound for Don’t Call Us Sweethearts, although I was supposed to. One faux member of the group who played a little percussion felt the need to do the sound, although I had to inform him on how to use the mixer. Thankfully with my help he was able to do a passable job, and truly could have done little to diminish the silky-smooth vocals and soft melodies of Don’t Call us Sweethearts. The performance was emotionally charged and musically superb. Though I tend to think their particular kind of songwriting is generally boring, there was no lack of excitement during their performance. Don’t Call Us Sweethearts had a friendly, warm presence that everyone picked up on.
The good was good, but the bad got very bad. I don’t mind bad music, or late shows. There’s just a small list of things I expect musicians to NOT do, which almost always ruin the appeal of the performance. Fever to sing had a few good examples.
Show outright disdain for the audience while making assumptions about their beliefs
Explain what every single song is about in detail
Apologize for how bad the music is
Musicians who do these things defy all logic, and must be proud of how amateur they are. Since we’re mean bastards here at Elf Wax, and want to harm those who we dislike, here’s a list of bands and musicians you should never, ever see.
I was there to help you run sound, and you refused my help probably just because I am a man. I hope you enjoyed spending 5 minutes going back and forth between the mixer and the microphone to satisfy your own misguided foolish pride. You’re not a bad musician, but probably a bad person. I have nothing against Lesbians, in fact I rarely have sex with women who aren’t Lesbians. I was enraged by your song about how everyone in Virginia but the Lesbians are hateful fucks. Now Elfwax.com hates you, and it’s not just your imagination this time. You can tell everyone we hate you just because you’re a Lesbian if that makes you feel better.
Richmond, Va.–Elf Wax Times went deep into the seedy underground of the Richmond music scene to find Larry And His Flask performing songs of hate around midnight of the 23rd at Cous Cous. Motherfuckers jammed.
“Basically put like fucking Modest Mouse together with some Jefferson Airplane shit and Larry’s what you get,” said VCU Criminal Justice major Kim Something Or Other. We got her phone number.
The vocals harmonized nicely with the guitars, but all the assholes dancing around The Elf Wax Times staff were rude and did not respect others’ personal space. The authorities were notified, however no arrests have yet been made because the police are lazy scumbags who’d rather insufflate an eight ball of confiscated blow than arrest college students, although that is their second priority because nobody was nice enough to hang out with them during high school to make sure they don’t power trip in the future.
So there were VCU pigs walking up and down Grace St. late last night. On a Monday night, there’s hardly a dude worth fucking with but the police found him: an old crippled guy in a wheelchair was sitting in a recessed doorway, pointed toward the wall when some dick cop approached him asking, “What are you doing here?” to which he responded, “I’m just chilling out.”
The Elf Wax Times did not stick around to make sure civil rights were respected because we have no compassion for even the seemingly homeless. Our apathy overrides even the most basic instincts of decency especially in the presence of law enforcement. This is because we have taken copious amounts of LSD, psilocybin mushrooms, morning glory seeds, Hawaiian Baby Woodrose tea, pills, duster, and the synthetic compound known as 2C-I. No big deal, but we ate that shit all at once, so fuck that guy in a wheelchair.
And fuck you. Larry and his flask will be on tour with the Dropkick Murphys (or whatever those fags are called), unfortunately opening for the bastards even though everybody knows it should be the other way around. Fuck mainstream music and fuck you for liking it.
Fuck the government for sponsoring Elf Wax Drunkenness and fuck your mother’s failed abortion that became you. We don’t like you and don’t want you reading The Elf Wax Times because you have not taken the sworn oath drug-influenced Elf Wax piety. When the revolution comes, you’ll be forced to eat fourteen doses of acid and watch The Wall while we drill messages of fear and totalitarian government control into your enfeebled brains. In your offtime we do respect your right to smoke cigarettes but not to religion. For religion, you must turn to Carl Sagan for guidance because unlike the rest of humanity you are now a glowing ray of light, no longer bound by the human form, for you can – and do – understand and know everything under the sun. In fact, you control it.
Now get fucked up watch FOX News because it’s what you’re designed to relate to – not us. We aren’t you and you’ll never be one of us. You’ll always be a fucking scum-sucking whore of the capitalistic enterprise over our freedoms of self. Wal-Mart owns you now, and Target is where you rebel. China runs our shit, and America strives to become them. Countries’ only meaning lies in how we identify ourselves. With enough trade, this will change and our so-called “identities” will meld with the world-dominating enterprise of necessity. We’re fucking doomed to live on and serve into perpetuity the human plantation we helped create. We, and free enterprise, which should also be destroyed or undermined by faithful Elf Waxers. Destroy yourselves, and you’ve destroyed the government’s income. Well done, suicide machines.
Vote against freedom. It’s what Elf Wax would do. It’s what you have been conditioned to do. But don’t be surprised when the voice of protest sounds like a large group of angry bluegrass musicians who don’t even sit down to play the drums.
Pictured here from left to right, three band members (presumably), Fred Durst, and David Blaine.
CLEVELAND, OH–In it’s annual induction ceremony earlier this week, the Rock and Roll Hall of Shame was pleased to welcome nu-metal pioneers, Limp Bizkit, into it’s newly founded museum. The band, which formed in 1994 in Jacksonville, FL, rose to moderate success riding the coattails of bands such as Korn and mixing the perfect blend of heavily distorted, simple guitar riffs and aggressive, juvenile rap lyrics, which subjects included everything from failed sexual encounters to breaking human facial structures.
“I think it’s pretty [depletive exleted] obvious that this was our goal from day one when we started jamming on some George Michael tunes” said Fred Durst, frontman/only actual band member. “By the time Chocolate Starfish [and the Hot Dog Flavored Water] dropped, even I was surprised people were still throwing away their scrilla on us.” Added Durst, “Damn right, I’m a maniac!”
While the other members of the band were unable to attend/didn’t give a rat’s ass about anything Limp Bizkit-related anymore, Durst gladly accepted the honor on their behalves and even pleased the crowd with a solo performance. An excerpt can be seen here:
Other inductees this year included Third Eye Blind, The Spin Doctors, and Chumbawamba. Kid Rock, a notable genre-spanning awful “musician”, was not inducted to the museum of rock musical failures this year, but instead attended his induction into the Country Music Hall of Shame in Nashville.
Gainesville, FL–The online music streaming service, Grooveshark®, was pleased to announce Tuesday, the addition of several songs from the Elf Wax catalogue to its expanding database. The company, which has increasingly become a rival to Pandora®, expressed its enthusiasm in a personal email to Elf Wax.
“We’re extremely excited to have your music on board.” said Brandon Billups, Head of Label Relations at Grooveshark®. “First of all, all the song titles are hilarious and the music is great too. I especially dug ‘Eye Don’t Half U’.”
Elf Wax Times’ own internet trend specialist, Dr. Wikip Edia, has stated, “Grooveshark® is an internationally-available online music search engine and music streaming service, allowing users to search for and stream music, for free. It’s audience grows anywhere from 2 to 3 percent a day.” Dr. Edia also added, “Citation needed.”
The addition of Elf Wax’s auditory gold is also a first for Grooveshark®; it is the first time that Choosic will be available for aural digestion on the website. Elf Wax and their parent uber-corporation, Lebal Drocer Inc., both hope that this new medium of interconnection will help spawn new Choosicians around the Pac-Man inspired universe. Back to you, Shep.
Peanut Margarine & Knome Gelly (pictured above) can at last be streamed anywhere free of charge.