He is the one who rants and claims to be the “non-musician”, right?
His role, he says, is to make things happen, a catalyst for elements already present.

So then tell me why the result is always the same, no matter who his name is associated with, ex-Genesis or ex-Sex Pistols.

I'm a good guy, my face smiling at the public from the covers, and for my records, I rent Spanish sirens with ringing voices to rhyme heart and love. I'm the Paul McCartney of the punk generation and experimentation is the last of my concerns. I therefore want to apologize to my audience: “Music for Films episode 179” was not what I expected from this collaboration. These sequences that tiptoe through the brain, in through one ear and out the other, leave me indifferent. There is even an ambient track on the chord progression of a blues...

He had promised me to include a reggae, a rhythm surely meant to break that serious face with a smile, but it was only to keep me satisfied. He put it last, as if it were an afterthought. And how he treated it! Instead of dancing and caressing shapely forms, it makes you want to sit and contemplate the moon. It completely lacks the instinct for companionship, Brian.

I listened to the demo again going from Bethnal Green along the Grand Union Canal: streets without history, old suburbs of bricks blackened by rain and the worries of the long rows of lonely houses. The music perfectly matched my impression of being the only living soul around. This is not what my audience wants. My audience deserves cocktails with colorful umbrellas on round wicker tables, against a background of sky-blue Bristol board and plastic ivy climbing on the partition. That's the music I sent them, and this rarefaction, this snobbishness comes back to me...

What do you say? He sent me the music and I completed it? But exactly, exactly. This proves to what extent he has plagiarized me. Enough. This is a Brian Eno record in the most classic ambient vein.

The idea was not mine and, seeing the results, allow your devoted Jah Wobble to wash his hands of any responsibility.

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