The Stool Pigeon

The Stool Pigeon, PO Box 52129, London, E2 7XY
editor at thestoolpigeon dot co dot uk

Sir, having noticed a lack of funds in the Fortune Teller Press coffers, I ended up accepting some consultancy work the other month. The client? None other than Levi Roots of Reggae Sauce / Dragon’s Den fame.

I was asked to offer some creative input into the marketing of the sauce and immediately took them to task over the lame tagline: ‘Put some music in your food.’
I told Roots that a much better (and funkier) line would be: ‘Reggae Reggae Sauce, put a little lilt in your skank!’

I was feeling pretty smug about it, until Duncan Bannatyne threw Roots’s acoustic guitar at my head. Apparently, I had created “negative associations” and “bad vibes” (according to Roots) because I was suggesting that much valued customers “pour a well-known fizzy drink into a particularly rank woman”.

I was only trying to help.

Jackson H Samuel,
Fortune Teller Press HQ
London

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Sir, fucking funny article on The Notorious Hi-Fi Killers last issue. I like it. Who wrote the Fuck Buttons review? That is one of the best things I have read in ages...

Laters,
Jim Horwood,
London

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Sir, fuckin’ great Pigeon. That thing about Fuck Buttons had me laughing out loud while sitting on the toilet.

Cheerio,
Peter Swift,
Glasgow

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Sir, see attached [scan of Fuck Buttons live review, last issue]. Niall O’Keeffe asks who signs these bands. Well, me and Deborah do!

I think everyone is more concerned how a clueless cunt like him gets to review shows.

Thanks,
Barry,
ATP Records,
London

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Sir, when’s the next Stool P out? We’re starting to build walls out of unread Vice magazines here.

Staff,
The Premises,
London

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Sir, I ripped a boss little Mick Hucknall thing out of your paper in a café yesterday.
Said thing is now nestled nicely in my bus pass wallet and brings utter joy to all who witness it.
HUCKNAAAALLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL xx

Autonomy,
Liverpool

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Sir, if we were to compare The Stool Pigeon to the NME using the analogy of books, they = Jordan’s biography, you = Crime and Punishment.
Worship Street Irregulars,
London

Sir, I have been hit by two pigeons in my lifetime. Both in Manchester city centre and both were definitely acts of malice.

Bad Marmalade,
Manchester

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Sir, just wanted to say I particularly enjoyed the piece on ‘Cash’ magazine in the latest issue of The Stool Pigeon. I’ve always thought it’s a terrible and shameless way to run a magazine that preys on smaller labels. Amazing that you mentioned the deputy editor’s name as well.

Anyway, well done for holding them up and ridiculing such a shit magazine. And well done for running such a great one yourself.

[Name and address withheld],
Via email

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Sir, been enjoying the last issue heartily, especially the Crystal Castles feature. We put them on in Sheffield on their first UK tour and they were properly moody bastards. The girl just smoked Marlboro reds in silence and the lad smoked all our skunk and watched Vertigo, in silence too, post-gig.

Weirdoes.

Jim Ottewill,
Sheffield

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Sir, Claudio [Ethan of Crystal Castles] is a genius and a warm soul. This [Crystal Castles feature, last issue] is well written, but I can’t help but feel you’ve been left in the dark with your perception of him, and I’m sure he wouldn’t want it any other way.

Billy Druid,
New Orleans
Via MySpace

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Sir, getting on ‘slightly’ in years does not deter me from sending you a couple of my poems. If you do not wish to use them or pass them on to an interested party, please bin! Rejection in hard print really gets me down these days. Anyway, the first poem speaks for itself in this obese society...
(My wife says I’ve sent you my poems before, but I can’t remember because I have mental and physical problems.)

Chip-Wrecked!

There are so many chip-wrecked
By the onslaught of obesity
Upon the diets we exceed,
And bloat with hamburgers that feed
The cravings of society
Like a gastronomic architect,
But many face the consequences
Of major surgery’s expense
By ignoring healthy food’s excess...

The plague of man’s obesity
Is responsible for countless wrecks
That only minds can resurrect,
And by maintaining to select
The menus topping life’s index
We may find a weight loss remedy,
But when there’s too much flab on board
The captain’s log may soon record
How a chip-wreck caused mortality!

Best wishes,
Iaian W. Wade
Knaresborough

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