The Others

...You may not have noticed, but there’s a generation out there right now who feel disenfranchised and isolated. They have no interest in the things that drive everyone else, celebrity is an empty vessel, money’s a means of getting through next week, society is something that happens to other people, the future doesn’t belong to them any more than the present does.

Their heart’s not worn on their sleeve, it’s stitched up tight in their pocket, gathering fluff and roaches, for fear of it being broken more than once. They don’t care about fame so much as notoriety, music so much as message, performance so much as a celebration of confrontation. They’re not punk, as that word has finally ceased to have any useful meaning. They are the underclass - a bunch of bullied and abused petty criminals, narcotic abusing, narcissistic, gender bending, rude and frenetic, passionate heroes and heroines. Unsavoury? Yes. Psychotic? Sometimes. Proud? Totally.

...The Others, as the name says, are from the outside and of these outsiders. With no musical influences beyond their personal circumstances, they have no choice but to tell it like it is and sound like they do.

And the crucial point is that The Others are The Others and will continue to be deranged oddballs whether or not they’re written about or listened to. If a tree falls in a forest and nobody hears it, does it make a sound? Frankly, my dear, they don’t give a fuck.