The oceanic lapse in maintaining this almost-a-feature may have lead some to believe I’d given up listening to ‘real’ screamo anymore, or that perhaps i’d lost the use of my fingers, ears or mind due to a terminally atrocious, pick ‘n’ mix medical emergency of disastrous defects, diseases and near-deaths.

Facts are that no graves have appeared above my bed, breath flows through my lungs and my body displays no visible signs of rot or decay, which is a pleasant surprise.

The hideous truth? I’m not qualified to sit on some perch and spout band name diktats like some all knowing musical Napoleon. That was never my aim or motivation and yet the format of my previous two posts under this bannered pseudonym would very much suggest otherwise.

Having bricked myself in under a title with no apparent room for manoeuvring, I find myself somewhat restricted. Writing about such a non-specific, highly mutable genre with a misleadingly specific label for a header is never going to do, is it?That its not even about the genre name so much as the attitudes, misrepresentation and undervaluing of music made for, dare I say it, art rather than as easy and accessible product pop, is the important bit. When that music is loud, noisy and complex it is often dismissed as limited and this ridiculous misconception isn’t the sole jurisdiction of ‘screamo’ either. Post-rock, grind, math, spazz… anything worth listening to that isn’t the same old drab filler is what this is all about. Who cares if you can’t hear the lyrics or whether a catchy melody is present? These concerns aren’t always relevant.

“You don’t listen to REAL Screamo!” isn’t an accusation or a crusade. It just wants brilliant music to be recognised as brilliant music without conditions, excuses or lies.