ASBO a GoGo: 10.11

Pics by Paul Cantrell

Seems like a lot has been going off in the ASBO camp, and not all of it good. But worry not, we will always be around - necking the last of that Good Spanish wine, wiping our pets bums, denying most requests and generally being quite unfriendly.

Its not that we dont take requests, its just that sometimes we get asked for such tosh I choke on my own CD collection, especially when the request is paired with a withering glare that we dont carry Ke$ha or Aerosmith. On the flip side, I love it when we get asked to play 'another house song', especially when I didnt even realise I had played a house song in the first place. Confession time : I dont really know what house music is. But when I ask for a definition all I get is some hand movements and 'You know, like house..like deep. Err, house...!' Nope. No I dont.

Its times like these when I'd like to sit back and celebrate all that ASBO have achieved. Together me and The Lass have smashed up the majority of Sheffield, the only venue we havent played is Corporation - but then again they havent changed their line up since I was under aged. (Joking! We could be dropping some RnB at the local hell pit before the end of the year if Clubfist have owt to do with it).

Ive Mum-danced my way through 100s of sets all with The Lass, we have finished each night with the style and finesse that you can expect from two Northern lasses with a couple of pints of wine between them. We were the first to drop 90s pop at an indie night and persevered through the awkward silences, until it became standard to slip in Neneh Cherry between The Stooges and Jamie T.

We have become journalists, models (cough) and backing singers (cough cough). We love being ASBO and we love the DJ scene in Sheffield. From vinyl loving sweethearts to serato smashing cutie pies theres not a day of the week that passes without someone dropping some quality tunes for your listening pleasure. Fresh Fruits to Threads, Ugly to Rockeoke. We are blessed to reside in a city so filled with fun, a cross section of disc jockies who cant wait to poor you a tequila bomb, play you a classic and miss their cue cus theyre tango-ing with you. ASBO <3 Sheffield.

Sorry, I was too worried about my personality. I forgot to press play.

ASBO was visited this week by my big brother, he arrived in a world wind of mojitos (for me). Instantly started on the bouncer and spent most of our set doing the 'wanker' sign at me. I think he liked the tunes, but you never can tell when someones got the glassy eyed 100 metre stare going on. Luckily we were also visited by this one:

Whose on the verge of being employed as our full time entertainer. He does a good 90s dance groove, wants to hear nothing but Queen and does a mean impression of someone looking at something really hard (you had to be there I guess). Anyway its only fair that the organ grinder starts paying the monkey. Dance monkey! Dance! (We <3 Kieron).

I laughed so hard my eyelashes nearly fell off.

We kept ourselves busy this week playing 'Would you rather be in TLC or En Vouge?' If ever you want to stun an ASBO into a catatonic state, then simply pose them this question. Then watch their eyeballs roll into the backs of their heads while they try to figure out - exceptional harmonies, or bitchin raps with unreal hair dos? Sass-filled power ballads or new jack swing (no I dont know what that is either). Our minds have exploded. Lets never speak of this again.

If you want to be an ASBO follow these rules:

Dance like no ones watching.

Fall over like you dont care whose watching.

Enjoy the beauty and power of your youth, cus before long you will be as old as us and choking on your noodles when someone admits their birth date is 1990.

Dont waste your time on jealousy, its easy to look this stupid.

Wear. a. weave.

That is all