inject some yaba, down a pint of strongbow and ketamine, sit the fuck down and let me tell you how shit everything is
(figuratively speaking) :::::
No7. 7/7 -- well it wasnt exactly 9/11 was it?*
No6. the Dreamcast -- ok, if youre someone that has to click on every single link in blogs (and youre a complete pedant) youll see that the dreamcast came out in 1999, congratulations, fuck off. i actually loved the dreamcast, it was a beautiful console. but it died, and was buried in a cute lil grave next to sega.
No5. the Strokes '1st Impresions' -- the worst thing in the world is when bands realise other current bands, and, like bad, imagined relationships, try and forge some kind of compromise. '1st impressions' is disappointing on multiple levels -- Juicebox sounds like a bassy load of tit inspired by Johnny Borrel's mum's opinion on music, Vision of Division sounds like "a rock song", and about 80% of the tracks urge the listener to sigh sadly as soon as they begin. obviously, there are SOME good tracks, otherwise it wouldnt be the Strokes, but as Julian says in the droll Ask Me Anything, they have nothing to say. truly a burning out album.
No4. Skins -- ah, Skins. Skins was like the best, most colourful, imaginative wank ever, before I came. when I finally did come (exactly when the 2nd series started) i felt frankly dirty. frankly ashamed. i wore a hair shirt for some months, and a chastity belt on my thigh. the fact is that Skins (esp. series 2) is lazy writing, pubey acting and patronisingly put together. its a program designed to 'shut out adults', so the kids can learn about dubstep and crack (i have no beef with dubstep or crack btw), sandwiched inbetween a useless, profoundly self-conscious, ignorantly plotted cast of inaccurate stereotypes, dancing in a borderline racist (all black characters MUST talk permanently in jafaican, because that is just what they do in contemporary britain, give me a fucking break) load of old fuck.
No3. Klaxons 'Myths' -- pleh. absolutely pleh. fuck off. the album sounds like a reverby bath in an invented joke (being the one they actually DID invent - New Rave™). absolutely nowt to get excited about, because New Rave™ ended up being nothing about these kids - it was about 364 cmyk colours per outfit and any samples/shit you could grab from a 90s bargain basket (fair enough) - not about what these funky pricks made (annoying 'cheeky' basslines with stupid occasional Musey pianos and general stadium gumfy fuck off fuck off). Klaxons didnt save anyone with their Mercury Prize-pleased cake-eating, and now that theyve arrogantly fucked off for ages like 'a big band' should, i just hope their fans arent there when they get back. (they will be)
No2. Libertines -- a brilliant band. part of the horror of the Libertines is their stunningly depressing fall from grace. for a while it seemed that everything they were was building up to a true British moment in musical history, they were the Sex Pistols, they were the Beatles, blah blah blah. DOOM is what happened. 21st Century DOOM. doherty is now the ultimate, clinging background loser of glossy mags, the person we still pretend is a big deal, or worth watching as he comes out of prison. as genius (say what you like) as he and his band once were, he is in hell now, and he wont come out until he Britney Spazzes out of there.
No1. Jack Black -- i knew there was something suspect about Kung Fu Panda. the trailers for this piece of shit have been annoying me for some time, not least because of the 'hur hur, panda dat does kung fu innit' marketing aspect of the piece of cunt, but the cunt himself behind the motherfucking panda, Jack 'It's okay to be fat!' Black. RRRROCKSTAR. Black's humour is embarassing timewarped fucking uncle that just about grasped irony the other day, and realised it could save his pitiful life. what is so sublimely disappointing about the boy is how dismal he makes music sound -- School of Rock (and the rest)'s -- 'ROCK can SAVE THE FREAKIN WORLD' narrow-minded naivety is amazingly unpleasant. if Black's movies were about total musical failure, the irony would work, but as it happens, THINGS TURN OUT A-OK in his loudmouthed, doublechinned, disparate bubble of amazingly unfunny simpleton cancer.
FIN
*i have nothing but sympathy for the victims and anyone that was mildly flustered by 7/7
xAndy!
No comments:
Post a Comment