Word has been circulating in the dubious caucauses of Pop Montreal afterparties, alleging that David Fetch was seen conducting himself in an unprofessional manner in the company of Songwriter/Harpist Joanna Newsom. The following is a communiqué with his record label, in which he explains himself.
There are rumours circulating that I pinched the bottom of one Joanna Newsom after her sold-out concert at the Ukranian Federation on Saturday night. Let me be clear - I would never touch a woman that frightens me. This plucky youngster aggresses her harp like no other angel, and is an artist I know I can sell quickly. She looks pixie, sounds like a hellion, and belts out a furious - albeit wordy - kinetic blues music that is the most successful aspect of what she does. But Newsom must be sold fast (read: dollar downloads in developing countries), because she has the unpalatable tendency to overexpose her audience to a lyrical verbosity the likes of which will make you want to immerse your head in a toilet for safekeeping. The professional in me questions why she feels it necessary to exorcise every wispy inch of her Jung, and shake the whole of her psyche's spiders and crumbs all over us. I predict she is about to outgrow this phase and will look back and cringe when she realizes how indiscriminately she has littered roomfuls of potential customers with feminine nightmares. Even Bowie had better control in his early days. Are words so cheap, that Ms. Newsom feels the need to use thousands of them in every song? 'Let me breathe, woman!', I was heard to shout.
I'm not quite sure where the rumour started that I pinched Ms. Newsom's bottom - I did propose to her that she look over our standard, exclusive contract to record her next four albums, but she wanted to check with her lawyer about the thirteen year contract period, as well as the clause that gives us jurisdiction over distribution and publishing for all territories in the Known Universe, into perpetuity. I patiently explained to her "we simply cannot have artists taking matters of business into their own hands, Baby." But I'd never have pinched her bottom.
p.s. I've left three messages at the office. Please get Stacey to fill a new prescription and wire me my meds!