About Girls Aloud
They call it manufactured pop, as if that were something to be ashamed of – but we are a manufacturing country. Down our conveyor belts come cars, and shoes, and biscuits, and guns, and pop bands. Useful things and beautiful things. Things that make us go faster, and things that make us feel like we are going faster. Things that we love passionately for a day, and then throw away, and things that we love passionately for a day, and then keep forever.
Being able to plan for and make our necessary things – instead of relying on accidents, or nature, to supply them – is one of the first signs that a society has achieved civilization. And what could be more necessary than pop? What else should we aim to pump out in such greedy, thrilling, giddying amounts?
The factory is a democratic place. Sometimes, the people working on the floor come cruising in on a Monday morning, still wearing Saturday nights make-up and Sunday mornings smile, and say, Sod this. They pull off their hair-nets, and jump on the conveyor belt themselves. They announce that they are pop stars, now. They make a band.
Thats allowed, in the factory, because we are a manufacturing country, and that means we are also allowed to manufacture ourselves. We are allowed to change our futures. We are Girls Aloud.
And in the band we manufacture, we dont have to smile, if we dont want to. We wont have dance routines that ruin our hair. We dont sing songs where we pretend that were scared, or that we cant run in our heels, or that we dont know exactly what we want. We dont need no beauty sleep. We think youre off your head. We text as we eat. We flirt while we work. We flick our finger at the world below. If wed know, or if wed cared, we would have stood around in the kitchen in our underwear.
When Jack Kerouac wrote On The Road in 1957, he said the people he loved the most were the Fabulous Yellow Roman Candles, who were mad to live, mad to talk, . We saw it on a t-shirt once. But anyone who was mad to live wouldnt want to be a Roman Candle. Roman Candles are the rubbish ones. Theyre over in thirty seconds. They dont even spin, or fly. If we were a firework, wed be a limousine full of dynamite. And wed put the fire out with vodka. If we could be bothered.
If you know someone who sounds like us, well give you a tenner. If you like someone better than us, frankly, we dont care. Were Girls Aloud. Were Made In Britain.
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