Frankleton

Frank Hamilton ‘Aliens’

So. Election. That’ll be nice. It is true that upon this weekend just gone past, election fever (or election bitching, if we’re being real for a moment) kicked in at one of the Dhillon family gatherings, namely The House of Plenty as described by my quite-frankly best friend and partner-in-awesome Weezer. The reason it is called the House of Plenty is because there is just a lot of stuff, mostly by way of food, hot tubs, tellies, screaming kids, exhausted adults and, well, things going on. It is a really, really fun place to hang out on the weekends. Set aside the grumbles orchestrated mainly by the men of this family levied towards how everything is so set to become manifestly fucked by the end of this week – y’know, this guy’s a commie bastard, this guy’s a human balloon animal, let’s blame this dude for having done fuck-all, let’s blame this dude for having reduced everything to fuck-all – and the ongoing game of trying to recall every social media-portrayed factoid around who knows more about the country being fucked up by this person, that person and some other people probably; I feel the House of Plenty becomes a deece analogy for, well, the UK. We’ve got all this stuff; and so there is a great deal of differing opinions as to what is to be done with this stuff, who deserves the stuff, and who gets to sit by the sidelines not really getting much stuff at all because, well, fuck them (which is the main reason when it really boils down to it, right? All the facts’n’stats in the world that dictate whether you should or should not do something are anchored by the Fuck Them policy). I found although we were all largely trying to say the same thing (staying in the EU is GOOD; fucking up poor people even further is BAD; funding the NHS is GOOD; taxing the people who can afford for all these things is GOOD but kinda BAD if you’ve worked real hard for your shit apparently), just in many different ways. It is incredible how our habits, norms, and frequency of being exposed to media-driven messaging leads to these oxymoronic same differences. I hope no one dies as a result of the election on Thursday, as a baseline thing. Anyway, let’s fuel this election fever even further by premiering the new visuals from all-round nice guy Frank Hamilton, who encapsulates this sentiment and many more via this track Aliens. In it (or, to use the London vernacular, innit) I feel Frankilton makes his position quite clear as to the bastardiness that is permitted to take place in British politics via the happy medium of parody, high-budget face masks and outstanding live performance. Our boy Frank gives us the low-down below….down.

As Frank says, “[The satirical news reporter character] Jonathan Pie is probably my biggest inspiration for this.  I wanted to have fun with the video and not be scared of poking fun at how ridiculous and fucked up things are”. 

“Aliens fell out of my brain late one evening after watching too much news”, Frank explains. “At first I thought it was just a silly song that would never leave my head – it happens every now and then – but something about it kept bugging me, and after another evening spent watching countless Youtube interviews about the death of comedic satire, that something clicked”. 

Frank goes on, “I definitely wasn’t trying to write a political comeback single – it just happened – but I don’t know a single person who isn’t a little bit disillusioned with the state of the world right now. Part of me thinks ‘why not, let’s have some fun with it’ and the other part of me feels almost obligated to get it out there at a time when it might provide a much-needed smile or two”.

Right on, Frankilton. Right fucking on.

  • Ach



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