Tag Archives: simon pegg

Simon Pegg and Nick Frost

HERE is an interview with Simon Pegg and Nick Frost written for The Big Issue in the North in early 2004, just ahead of the release of their rom-zom-com Shaun Of The Dead.

* * *

IT’S all very well for the Americans.

They have the right – some might even say the duty – to bear arms under their Constitution. But just suppose for a minute that, say, the cannibalistic undead rose from their graves in this country – how would we Brits defend ourselves against the zombie multitude?

Don’t laugh. It could happen.

“I think that the British would be much better at fighting zombies than the Americans,” decides Nick Frost. “The Americans would rely too heavily on firearms. When they ran out of bullets they’d find it difficult to adapt.”

“Exactly!” agrees Simon Pegg. “They would have no proficiency in the use of no weapons.”

“I’d go with something like a Lee Enfield with a bayonet,” Frost ruminates, “because you can fire, fire, fire, oh, I’ve run out of bullets, what’s next?” He thrusts an imaginary rifle towards Pegg’s face. “Bang! Right in the eyeball!”

“We always used to think about getting some kind of long stick, like a long crook with a point on so you can just come in, top of the head, crack, there, straight into the cranium” – Pegg jabs a finger at the top of Frost’s head – “Bang! Brained!”

Okay. Is that door locked?

Continue reading


Filed under expletive undeleted, interviews

Loving the aliens .. plus everything you ever wanted to know about Rudimentary Peni but were afraid to ask

ONE-TIME Playboy bunny Marion Benoist and ex-Motherfucker feedback enthusiast Fred de Fred (aka the Lovers) have been making beautiful music together since they were introduced by a mutual friend in London on September 11, 2001.

Now based in Sheffield – they have no plans to invade Afghanistan, for the moment – the Lovers’ naughty but nice second album continues the saucy crusade they began with their eponymous debut three years ago. Recorded in Texas and South Yorkshire, Pardon My French contains the kind of big production pop nobody is supposed to make anymore. I think it could be my favourite album of the year.

An effortlessly exotic and eclectic sound – whistling, kazoos, ukuleles, a glockenspiel, a sousaphone, even a clarinet are all thrown into the mix – might make Pardon My French seem like it’s from another time and place but closer listening reveals some talented musicianship and a resolutely individual, contemporary and internationalist outlook.

If that wasn’t enough, they’re sexy and funny, they sing in French, English and a strange combination of the two, and they write killer hooks too. What more do you need to know?

Continue reading


Filed under expletive undeleted, hyperbole