Author Topic: R.I.P. Marc E. Smith of The Fall  (Read 667 times)

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R.I.P. Marc E. Smith of The Fall
« on: January 24, 2018, 05:58:18 PM »
Figured he was worthy of his own thread.  One of the most unique and amazing bands to come out of the UK punk scene, and one of the most unique front men ever.  RIP (only 60, goddamn).


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Re: R.I.P. Marc E. Smith of The Fall
« Reply #1 on: January 24, 2018, 08:02:07 PM »
Fuckin' damn right! One of the best musical dictators to ever do it!

This one is a gut punch, as I've just started doing vocals in a band of friends and he was my biggest inspiration.
I wouldn't even try to aquire an elephant that would be mad selfish I don't have the means to give him a comfortable life


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Re: R.I.P. Marc E. Smith of The Fall
« Reply #2 on: January 24, 2018, 09:33:03 PM »
Damn, this is a rough one. The Fall is easily in my top ten favorite bands and he was definitely one of a kind. RIP


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Re: R.I.P. Marc E. Smith of The Fall
« Reply #3 on: January 25, 2018, 02:42:58 AM »


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Re: R.I.P. Marc E. Smith of The Fall
« Reply #4 on: January 25, 2018, 07:30:17 AM »
I found some goofy fanfiction on reddit featuring Mark and a few others. I thought it was pretty funny.

We open with a cheesy 80s sitcom theme tune, and zoom in from a helicopter height to focus on a small, slightly run down brick building. The words "Meet The Smiths!" appear in a kitsch font and the scene fades to the interior of the building. A hunched, sullen looking man in his late 20s wearing a beanie hat sits at a kitchen table eating from a bowl.

"Sigh," the man exclaims, literally saying the word sigh out loud instead of actually sighing, "I sure wish my crush would message me back". He takes a spoonful of what is in the bowl and lifts his face to the camera to show his emotion-filled face. It is Elliott Smith.

As he goes to take a second spoon, the door bursts open and into the kitchen comes a whirlwind of energy, a middle-aged man with a lit cigarette in his mouth rushes in and hurtles into the chair beside Elliott's. "Hey there, fuckface!" he says.

"Hey Mark," Elliott replies sullenly. "How's your day going?"

Mark E Smith bashes his hand on the table and takes a long drag on his cigarette, "I've been protesting with the miners, haven't I? I've been fookin' shoving it to those gits in the fookin' government haven't I? I've been standing with the proletariat against these fookin' nightmare hordes of jacked-up layabouts."

"Sounds fun," Elliott responds, non-committedly.

"Fookin' fun?! I've been standing up for the North and for the country against the bourgeiose scum. It's hard fookin' work lad, being This Nation's Saving Grace." Mark, clearly annoyed, lights another cigarette and puffs from it, apparently not noticing he already had one in his mouth. "Anyway, what are you eating for lunch there, fookin' pea soup?! Are you a vegetarian or a pansy?"

Elliott is well-used to his house-mates rhetoric, and simply shrugs and replies, "Either/Or".

Just then, a third man comes through the door, dressed all in black, with light make-up across his face and a thick nest of the darkest black hair. He flings himself dramatically against the side wall and wails. "Ahhh what a tortured life we lead". Mark rolls his eyes as Elliott mumbles in half-agreement. "Isn't it all so pointless and difficult, the way our lives rock back and forth against the shores of this world, achieving nothing. Also our landlord is a prick."

"Plus my friend won't text me back" Elliott mutters to himself.

"Exactly!" Robert responds, "your attractive friend who you've been crushing on and you asked on a date, hasn't even given you a reply! Oh the hopelessness of love in this infinite void! You know what you need to take your mind off of things?"

Elliott, understanding the nature of the situation, sighs in frustration and replies, "oh I don't know, Pornography?"

Robert looks back at Elliott with an expression of blank confusion. "No, alcohol. Let's go to the pub"

Mark's face lights up. "That's the best fookin' thing you've said all day"

Cut to the pub. It is reasonably busy but the trio all have seats, Robert has a beer on the table next to him, Elliott has a water, and Mark is trying to fit his pint glass into his mouth around the three lit cigarettes already hanging from his lips.

"Why don't you have a beer Elliott, take your mind off things" Robert offers.

"It's only 2:45 in the mor... afternoon". Elliott takes a sip of his water. "I don't feel like getting drunk yet."

Suddenly Mark does a spit take, beer sprays into the side of Elliott's face while the three cigarettes ping off at different angles against his hair and shoulders. "Fook me, look out lads, it's our landlord!"

The trio turn in their chairs and see a foppish man standing in the corner of the pub, appearing to be trying to chat up a woman off-camera. "To die by your side, well the pleasure, the privilege is mine" he warbles to the woman.

Robert's face starts to turn red with anger and his teeth grind together. "God I hate that fucking prick" he says. A cheeky smile appears on his face. "Here, watch this".

He picks up Mark's empty glass and, from across the room, throws it at Morrissey. It strikes him on the back of the head, shattering, and causing the singer to drop to the floor. "Now I know how Joan of Arc felt" he whines to himself. His prone body now allows the camera to get a good look at the woman he was talking to. She is tall and lean with a punk haircut, white dress shirt, and undone tie. Elliott's eyes suddenly widen in shock, it is the girl he's been crushing on, Patti Smith.

Patti walks over to the table, "oh hi Elliott, I didn't see you there. Was that you who just glassed Morrissey?"

Elliott is almost frozen in shock, but, noticing the encouraging nods of his two house-mates, he manages to spurt out a feeble "....yes?"

Patti laughs a wild, reckless laugh. "God I fucking hate that guy. You're pretty cool Elliott you know that? Hey, why don't we go see a movie later tonight? You can pick me up at 7". She nods at the gang at the table and mutters a "god speed", before leaving.

We zoom in on Elliott's elated face while Robert and Mark joke and tease the lovestruck man, as the theme music comes back in and the credits begin to roll.


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Re: R.I.P. Marc E. Smith of The Fall
« Reply #5 on: March 11, 2018, 05:37:32 AM »
ALiZa Battenburg