Hello He, Hello She – let’s to it.

The Footage is that band from London. They have (famously) written over 600 songs* (80 according to Iraq Body Count). They already know the title of their 17th album. Fortunately they also know the title of their first album, which, even as you read, pulses at the quivering meatus of release (it’s forthcoming).

But, you justly protest, while shaking your copy of “"I Love You, I Hate You, May I Buy You A Drink?”, I saw them back in 2006 at The Slaughtered Lamb in Clerkenwell or at that weird festival in Poole in 2007 – so this can’t be their first album! No one’s saying you’re lying but, tell me, did you see them in 2008? Almost no one did.

Now, 2008 was, as you remember, a good year for music and much else: there were squawkingly good records by Randy Newman, The Fall, Black Milk, The Long Blondes, Nick Cave, Portishead, One More Grain, HMHB, Julian Cope, Lil Wayne, Kanye West; Boulez came to London and got “brrrup-ed”; our narcissistic economy finally kissed the meniscus and fell in the lake; and not only did the US election let black people into the voting booths, it went batshit and let them into The White House (no doubt they had to retrain the guard dogs pretty quickly).

But it’s not 2008 no more, and the signs for 2009 are already ominous. It’s rumoured, for instance, that Oasis are considering releasing another album. While they have insisted to the IAEA (International Atomic Energy Agency) that they simply do not have the material with which to construct such a device, anyone who has heard any of “Dig Out My Soul” will find little reassurance in such claims.

So, gather all the blankets right up to your chin and await The Footage’s "The Summit Of Mount Everest Is Marine Limestone”.

Edward Bearnaise
Reality Liaison Officer
The Footage

P.S.
The title of The Footage’s 17th album will be “Schmasterpiece”. But we’ll worry about that in 2026, eh?

* They are uniformly excellent**.
** OK, there’s one dodgy song. It’s called “Stockholm”. And we’ll put it up on the site sometime for you to mock and spit on (or at – let’s say “at”. I somehow prefer “at”).