It is though isn’t it. Full disclosure: I was born in ’73. So naturally I tend towards thinking the ’80s and ’90s as a golden age for tunes except I also think I’m right and not just biased. So what we got now? X-Factor with that complete loon Louis Walsh (and he is a couple of sandwiches short of a picnic). And if I see another
boyband vocal harmony group I shall scream until Louis gives me a gold-plated contract (well, I’ll be screaming whilst holding his head down a dunny).
I mean the thing about X-Factor is it’s all cover versions. Now covers are a funny thing. There are some rather famous ones which are rightly more famous than the original but there remains the bear-trap of pointlessness. So, say, Bruce Springsteen does “Born to Run” and you’re going to do better than the Boss. (I saw Springsteen on the telly at Glastonbury a bit back and that was a cracking set – he was well belting them out and in a kinetic manner that belied his age). It just reminds you what a true star is and how dreadfully mediocre the stars of X-Factor are. So right now I’m listening to this…
Now Blondie had it and still do. It’s a shame Destri and Infante bailed but whilst Harry, Stein and Burke are playing there is still hope. When I first saw them at Manchester Apollo it was like an impossible dream (they hadn’t long been back together). And at this point I have to add something here. It was brilliant. I was down in the mosh-pit (very good-natured – Blondie fans are a very mixed bunch and very nice) there were dads with kids on their shoulders and drag queens and spotty teenagers (excellent!) and all sorts. And me with a pint balanced in the other hand by a fag. Next time I saw a gig at the Apollo it was no smoking, no drinking (apart from in the bar) and everyone had to remain seated at all times. It was like going to the fucking opera or something. I couldn’t help reflect on stuff I’d read about Blondie’s early days at CBGBs in New York and quite how different that was from the home-life of our own dear royal family. I mean it was suppossed to be rock and roll and not a bloody Methodist tea-dance. It wasn’t the band’s fault. It was Apollo house rules as dictated no doubt by the Methodist tea-dancers of the Labour party. Miserablist cunts the lot of ‘em.
An aside: in North Wales recently I saw a “Calvinistic Methodist Church” – that must be a fucking hilarity to worship at. “You can have no fun whatsoever”. “Will that get me to Heaven?” “Nah, it’s all pre-determined anyway”. So supremely fuck it.
All our few lonely impulses of delight stymmied by puritans. Fuck ‘em. These are the same fuckers who thought rave culture was the End of Days. Hell these are the same people who thought Mary Whitehouse had a point or that teddy boys or punks or whatever were also the End of Days. They ought to move to Iran where they’d fit right in. That’s why in my salad days we had goths and now you’ve got emos. Can you even begin to imagine any modern record label signing a band like Blondie considering songs like “X-Offender” or “Suzy and Jeffrey”!
But it’s all got to be nice now. Like Blandplay. I mean really is this rock and roll? I saw an interview with one of the smarter of our current rappers and when asked about his “violent” lyrics he said he grew-up listening to his Mom’s Johnnie Cash records. He quoted, “‘I shot a man in Reno just to watch him die’ – I couldn’t write anything as badass as that!” Quite.
Recently this was voted the best song of the last decade…
What a load of epic wank! I mean Lou Reed set the twilight reeling and Snow Patrol set the TIVO for “Masterchef”. That is epically dismal. It’s not a bad tune. I like the layered guitar thing but it’s not really rock and roll. It’s not badass. It’s something your mum would like and that is the very antithesis. I mean I’ve always wanted music my elders and betters have thought vile and nasty just so I could point out what their lyrics from the ’50s were really about…
And before anyone pipes up and says but Nick you’re in your late 30s so you ought to listen to pipes and slippers music on the BBC Light Programme – well fuck that. Debbie Harry doesn’t and she’s in her sixties and I will guarantee she’ll still be absolutely filthier in bed than any of these bright-eyed and bushy-tailed X-Factor hopefuls (I was doing it for me mum who needs a new kidney… ). For a start she wouldn’t get past the first round because she can’t dance (she really can’t) and has a very limited vocal range but God almighty does she use what she has well – she sounds like the apocalypse. These things wouldn’t please Louis but bugger his Leprechaunish shittery. I was once a mere 2m from Debbie Harry and it sounded like God Himself was declaiming from a burning bush. That was good. It was frigging incredible. And that was just “Atomic”. The rest of the set… Well you ought to have been there. I was and it was utterly magnificent.
What form of theatrical gayness is that? He might as well have merely puked into DVD-RW. That is utterly fucking chronic. That’s an X-Factor winner. “I’m not who you think I am”. Too true Matthew. You’re a “star” wanking himself raw on his own toilet. That’s what you are. I have seen more musical talent staring at me with glassy eyes on slabs in fishmongers. And this is the same Matt Cardle who had a go at X-Factor recently over having to sing Katy Perry’s “Firework” which I tend to think isn’t a bad pop song. I’m not saying it’s “Paperback Writer” but it’s better than that tossery because Sir Paul McCartney’s “Frog Chorus” knocks that epic wankery into a cocked hat. I mean Jesus, Mary mother of God and all the Saints Matt what the fucking fuck where you thinking of? That is pantage Matt. That is unrivalled pantaroonie. It isn’t even Wayne fucking Rooney kicking a Montenegran – that’s how bad it is. There are Ayatollahs in Iran (and Russians in Afghanistan) who can write better pop-songs. It’s that shi’ite. It’s fucking dreadful Matt. It’s bloody awful.
This is “Firework”…
The video is a bit weird. Primarily because at one point Katy Perry’s tits explode and she keeps on singing – what a trouper! But Hell’s teeth it’s at least danceable.
I shall leave you with this (that in my territory at least) had an ad for Susan Boyle’s rendition of “Unchained Melody”. Oh joy unlimited!
There is no danger any more. No nothing. It’s the difference between art and wallpaper.
And wallpaper bores me.
I suspect this post might prompt RAB into his annecdotage. He once played support for Bill Haley & His Comets you know