Hey, here’s a tip for all you musicians out there, up-and-coming and otherwise: if you don’t want to piss off the people whose job it is to convey information about you to the public—in other words, the lowly class known as music journalists—it’s best to refrain from repeatedly jerking said people around. Last July, the frontwoman for the English duo La Roux (her parents know her as Elly Jackson) blew off a scheduled telephone interview with the Straight without offering so much as a word of explanation. Jackson had an opportunity to make it up to us last week by granting us an interview in advance of La Roux’s Commodore Ballroom show on Sunday (April 18). So, what did she do? She strung our reporter along until the last possible minute and then—surprise, surprise—she blew us off again. Let’s go out on a limb and speculate that, since the show is sold out, the petulant little ginger figured she no longer had any obligation to promote it. Perhaps the Boots on Brixton Road was out of Nice ’n Easy Medium Auburn and she had to pop over to Clapham High Street to pick some up. Whatever. We’re sure she’s a real busy gal, and her time is no doubt far more important than ours. Fair enough. But what she failed to take into consideration is that the ink-stained wretch she so callously tossed under the bus had already spent a considerable chunk of her day preparing for the interview. Part of that prep time was spent listening to La Roux’s self-titled debut album, which quite frankly sounds like the work of a shitty Yazoo tribute act with a shrill, adenoidal teenager on vocals. We’ll never get those precious 46 minutes and 26 seconds back, so the least that pompadoured fucking scrag could have done is let us have 10 minutes of her day.
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