So, I wrote an article about hating pathetic Facebook memes, and now I'm copying one? Hypocrite!

I’ve had a couple of requests from people to post my responses to ‘the 30 day song challenge’. As I’m not the kind of guy to dedicate an entire month of my life to anything whatsoever, I decided to change this to ‘the 30 songs challenge’. Same rules, shorter time period. As I’m sure you all remember, this Blog was originally set up as a Music-reviewing Blog, until I suddenly realized “Holy Shit, I know fuck all about music” and switched to reviewing movies and writing insane ramblings on a variety of subjects no-one cares about instead. So here’s me coming back to form, in a sense, giving you my responses to ‘The 30 Songs Challenge’. You may like what you see; you may lose all respect for me. But either way, at least I’m not posting some of the more pathetic Facebook crazes on here seriously. Like, oh, I don’t know...







SONG ONE – YOUR FAVOURITE SONG


This is a tough one, because my favourite song changes pretty well on a daily basis. For a while last week, it was the song “Now You’re a Man” by Trey Parker, taken from the movie “Orgasmo”. That is, until I was linked to the site ‘thewillpower.org’...

Some people will just say, ‘just think of your favourite song by your favourite band’, on the assumption that if they’re your favourite band, their best song should also be your favourite song. However, this is somewhat akin to saying “Your favourite actor is Christian Bale, and his best film was ‘American Psycho’, so therefore American Psycho must be your favourite film” – it just doesn’t work like that. And what about hits by bands who have done fuck all great songs, but had that one hit wonder that you absolutely fucking love? So in all, this is one hell of a difficult question to answer.

I guess, in the end, I just have to go with ‘which song have I really been enjoying more than any other lately?’ – and in response to this, I guess I would have to go for the one I spontaneously started singing last night, and got a group of people to join in with, and start air-banding the whole thing. And that song is: ‘I Need to Know’ by Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers.







SONG TWO – YOUR LEAST FAVOURITE SONG


Did you know Microsoft Word is trying to correct that to “You’re Least Favourite Song”? No wonder so many people on the internet have a fucking atrocious grasp of when to use “Your” or “You’re”, or “There”, “their” and “they’re” – their fucking computers tell them they’re wrong when they get it right!

But back to the task at hand – I’m certain I’ll be the only person on Earth not typing “Friday by Rebecca Black” right here, but the fact is, this kind of internet hate comes and goes. Hatred of mainstream media, however, is forever. Now, whilst I’m sure they were offering good odds on my saying “Number 1” by Tinchy Strider and N-DUBZ, I’m not going to because even though the artists are cunts, and the video is terrible, the song is far from the worst I have ever heard. Also, there are all manner of worthless jingles in my memory, but can they all be counted as “songs”? The Crazy Frog was massively popular amongst retards and cunts when I was about 11 or 12 (ish?), but no matter how much I despise that, I wouldn’t even give it the priviledge of honouring it with the title “a song”. So I guess that restricts things further...
I suppose I would have to go with “That Fast Food Song”, because basically it’s an advert for the Capitalist system, and is also as annoying as 10 Justin Biebers (or 8 Rebecca Blacks, or 5 Goatses, or 2 Nick Cleggs).








SONG THREE – A SONG THAT MAKES YOU HAPPY


This one’s a little easier, because it’s any song that makes you happy, not the song that makes you happiest, so I can pick absolutely any song. So I suppose I’ll pick the song that had me shouting “FUCK YEAH!!!!” when it started playing on Radio 2 the other night – Thin Lizzy with “Dancing in the Moonlight”.







SONG FOUR – A SONG THAT MAKES YOU SAD


This exact question ruined my day when MSN asked it 3 years ago, because one of the published answers was “Comfortably Numb by Pink Floyd, because it’s the song playing just before Chris Moltisanti dies in The Sopranos”. I’m fine with publishing that now, because to be honest, if you haven’t watched The Sopranos yet, you’ve probably heard far worse spoilers than that already. But to publish that before the final 9 Episodes were even released on DVD (I bought the set the day it came out, so I’m certain of this) is a bit fucking much.

So, what song should I pick? There are loads of Depressing-sounding songs, to choose from, even if, like me, you really aren’t a big fan of the whole whiney-emo scene. I’ll admit, there are some very good, depressing songs told from a first person perspective; “Waiting for the Miracle” by Leonard Cohen, Half of Nirvana’s Discography, and both “Hurt” and “Give My Love to Rose” by Johnny Cash (I’m well aware “Hurt” was a cover, yes...). All amazing songs. But I think in the end, I have to give it to Rammstein’s ‘Ohne Dich’.




Is the song really about a Heroin addict? It makes sense, given the line “Mit dir bin ich auch Aleine”. But the rest of the song sounds so much like it’s about a lost love that it’s hard to believe it’s not about a girl. And that’s what makes this song amazing – it could be a fantastic song about someone who has lost the love of their life, but when you consider that love may be heroin (makes sense when you consider they already wrote a song about a heroin addict dying all alone with “Adios”), it just gives it an even deeper meaning – the song could go both ways. Much like Till in “Zwitter”. WHOOOOAAA!!!!!




SONG FIVE – A SONG THAT REMINDS YOU OF SOMEONE


When I was 18, I started seeing one of my mate’s girlfriend’s friends, and we all hung out one night. At about midnight, we decided to sneak into the place where this girl worked, basically just to raid the freezer. She was a waitress in a farm restaurant way out in the countryside, with no buildings or towns for miles around. Whilst the girls were grabbing Ice Cream, my friend and I came up with the ingenious plan of scaring the shit out of them, knowing full well that it is a proven scientific fact that girls are more likely to sleep with you if you terrify them first (I am not making this up). So, when we left the building, we both acted like we were hearing noises in the fields nearby (it was a farm, after all), and started to act really freaked out ourselves. This succeeded in freaking the girls out, who just wanted to get back to the car. As luck would have it, there were a number of scarecrows on the way to the car park, as we had to take a narrow path across a field, and we were saying things like “I’m sure that scarecrow wasn’t there before” or “just imagine, if you wanted to murder someone here, you could easily just stand by the path in ragged clothes, and they would walk right up to you thinking you were a scarecrow”. A couple of stones thrown out into the field to make noise later, and the girls were sufficiently freaked. We raced back into the car, and I turned on the ignition, at which point the song “Psycho Killer” by the Talking Heads started blaring through the radio, as if it knew just what to play in that instance. So, I’ll have to dedicate this entry to the girl I successfully freaked out in those fields all those years ago, and name the song “Psycho Killer”.








DAY SIX – A SONG THAT REMINDS YOU OF SOMEWHERE


Driving through the French Alps between Tignes and Val d’Isere a couple of years ago, I was chilling and listening to music, looking out over the fantastic landscape, lit by the brightest sunshine I think I have ever seen. The “Deal With It” Picture of me in a Hawaiian Shirt up in the mountains was taken there, and it has to be one of the most beautiful landscapes I have ever witnessed. The song I was listening to whilst driving? Only the song “Strutter” by Kiss, a song I had previously only associated with driving across the deserts of San Andreas, but will now forever be in my head as the song that I had on in the French Alps. Love it.








SONG SEVEN – A SONG THAT REMINDS YOU OF A CERTAIN EVENT


Walking along the streets of Portsmouth at 5 in the morning in winter is depressing as fuck. Especially in fog. Everything is grey and horrible, and you wonder why you even bother. So when “It’s the End of the World as we Know it” by R.E.M started to play on my MP3 player, it had the bizarre effect of actually making me enjoy my surroundings, whilst contemplating what the end of the world really would look like for me from here. So, the song that reminds me of walking through a run-down city in the early hours of the morning when nobody else was around?








SONG EIGHT – A SONG THAT YOU KNOW ALL THE WORDS TO


This could, of course, cover hundreds of different songs. I’ve never been too good at remembering people, or places, but numbers and lyrics I find easy as fuck. So I guess, given I have literally hundreds of songs to choose from, I should pick the one I personally feel is the most impressive, and given its 11 minute run-time, I guess there are few songs more impressive to know all the words to than Bob Dylan’s “Desolation Row”.



Buuuut... YouTube doesn't seem to have the song. Though, to be honest, if you don't own either Highway 61 Revisited or Bob Dylan's 3 Disc Music Collection, you need to go and die in a hole right now.

Anyway, here's some random guy doing a cover:






SONG NINE – A SONG THAT YOU CAN DANCE TO


Again, you can pretty well dance to absolutely any song out there, so this seems like a bit of an odd question. So, I suppose it’s going to have to be Pharaoh Monch’s “Simon Says”; the rhymes are whack, but the beat is Gang$ta (to paraphrase a number of individuals from YouTube). Plus, Sam Rockwell looked like a Boss dancing to it.








SONG TEN – A SONG THAT MAKES YOU FALL ASLEEP


I am not like so many of my generation, spending literally their entire waking lives with an earphone shoved in one ear, listening to music constantly. Not only this, but I never put music on when I go to sleep – I have music on to enjoy it, not because it’s just something that should be on in the background. Not only this, but I don’t find music makes me sleepy, so this question is pretty difficult for me to answer. However, if I want a cool, relaxing song that I can just chill out to, and that I might have on before I went to bed, then I suppose you could do a lot worse than Leonard Cohen’s “Anthem”.








SONG ELEVEN – A SONG FROM YOUR FAVOURITE BAND


Really? Oops, I’ve already done one of these. Still, the rules don’t say anything about using multiple songs from the same band, so why worry?

There are loads of great Rammstein songs out there, and it’s so hard to choose one for this entry. Where do you even start? So, I guess I’ll have to start at the logical place; the beginning. No, not “Wollt Ihr Das Bett in Flammen Sehen”, although that would make sense also; but with the first Rammstein song I ever heard, way back in 2001: Sonne.






SONG TWELVE – A SONG FROM A BAND YOU HATE

The Gallagher Brothers are cunts. No discussion. I hate everything from their smug faces down to their shitty retro trainers, and would like nothing better than to smash their fucking Hipster glasses into their ridiculously over-inflated heads. That said, Oasis have made some pretty decent songs. The best probably being “Don’t Look Back in Anger”. So well played, you cunts, you made my list. Enjoy.






SONG THIRTEEN – A SONG THAT IS A GUILTY PLEASURE


Oh God, I hardly dare admit this for fear of what it will do to my reputation. But I fucking love “The Flood” by Take That.





You’re probably expecting me to post “Ha, April Fool!” right about now, but no – I’m being completely and utterly serious here. I think it is an amazing song.




SONG FOURTEEN – A SONG THAT NO-ONE WOULD EXPECT YOU TO LOVE

Given the amount of hate I throw at N-DUBZ, it’s obvious that I don’t love their songs, and no-one expects me to. Oh wait, sorry, you mean a song that no-one expects me to love but that I DO love? Well, that’s a bit more awkward now, isn’t it? The problem is, most of the stuff I love that is utter shit people expect me to love anyway. People expect me to love “Don’t you want me Baby” because it’s 80s cheese, just like people know I love films like “Triple X” and “Exit Wounds”, because I enjoy utter shit. Even things like “Be my Baby” by the Ronettes, people expect me to like, because obviously I’ve seen Mean Streets. Hell, after my “Get Rich or Die Tryin’” review, people won’t even be surprised to learn I like a couple of 50 Cent songs. So what do I love, that no-one would expect me to? I guess my answer to this will have to be Green Day, because even I’m surprised that I would like Green Day. And whilst people might explain away my love of “American Idiot” as being a form of punk-nostalgia, that still doesn’t explain why the fuck I love “Boulevard of Broken Dreams”. So, a song that no-one would expect me to love? I guess a song that even I’m surprised I love should do the trick.







SONG FIFTEEN – A SONG THAT DESCRIBES YOU

As much as I want to put “I’m too Sexy” by Right Said Fred here, I shall refrain. Though, to be honest, it’s hard to think of a song that describes me better. I suppose it’s got to be U2’s “Stuck in a Moment”, for those occasions where I really do lose it and get fixated on things that don’t really matter...







SONG SIXTEEN – A SONG THAT YOU USED TO LOVE BUT NOW HATE

I don’t think there are any songs that I used to love, but now hate. I may dislike some songs I used to enjoy, simply because I’ve heard them too much; but to actively go from love to hate? I don’t see that happening. Shit, I would probably still crack a smile if you put on the old “Mr Blobby” single I used to have on tape when I was a kid – I literally cannot think of a single song I once loved, then grew to hate. There are a few, such as “Tribute” and “Business Time”, which I enjoyed when I first heard them, but then became really mainstream (I’m a closet Hipster) and quoted by absolutely fucking everyone soon after, meaning they lost their appeal. But still, I don’t actively hate those songs. In the end, I guess, I’ll have to choose one like this, which I enjoyed upon first hearing it, but now get annoyed by because morons continue to spam it everywhere. So, congratulations, for the second time in the past week or so, I’m posting “Surfin’ Bird” on this Blog. Fuck you, Family Guy fans, you ruined this song, and by extension “Full Metal Jacket”, even worse than watching John C. McGinley in Scrubs ruined my view of “Platoon”. This one’s for you:






SONG SEVENTEEN – A SONG YOU HEAR OFTEN ON THE RADIO

I wouldn’t know about “often”, because I don’t listen to the radio all that much. I also don’t want to post some shit here, which is what I tend to hear on the radio if I’m in the gym or somewhere. So, what gets played often on the radio when I’m listening? Well, they play “Take That” a fair amount, which I’ve already posted, and Lady Gaga’s quite popular. But I’m going to choose a song I haven’t heard on the radio “often”, but which I did hear twice in 2 days; it’s “Across 110th Street” by Bobby Womack.








SONG EIGHTEEN – A SONG THAT YOU WISH YOU HEARD ON THE RADIO

Simply for the lulz value, it’s got to be “Shut Your Fucking Face Uncle Fucker” by Trey Parker and Co. I can imagine the shit storm that would create if played uncensored on national radio – AAAWWWW YEEEAAAH!!!!!







DAY NINETEEN – A SONG FROM YOUR FAVOURITE ALBUM

Naturally, we’re not counting hits albums here, which is a bit of a shame, otherwise I’d post “Emerald” by Thin Lizzy, who have the greatest “Greatest Hits” album ever (closely followed by David Bowie). And, of course, we won’t be able to include soundtracks, either – otherwise the Pulp Fiction soundtrack would probably take the top spot. So, it comes down to actual studio albums released by bands, which may be tricky...

The problem with this question is that it falls prey to the same difficulties we had with the “Favourite song” question – it really depends on mood. A number of Bob Dylan’s albums are fantastic – especially “Blood on the Tracks”, “Highway 61 Revisited” and “Bringing it all back Home”. But would I call them my favourite albums? Likewise, Rammstein have had 4 absolutely incredible albums in “Herzeleid”, “Sehnsucht”, “Mutter” and “Reise, Reise”, and there are plenty of other bands I can think of who have released a tremendous album at some point. I suppose in the end, though, it really makes sense to go with one of the two albums featured on the tape that never left the cassette player in my car for a full year when I was 17/18. And although both albums are incredible, I’m going to pick the one I always used to prefer back when I was a long haired 18 year old kid who loved nothing more than driving in the sunshine and quoting The Big Lebowski. So, for the second time in this Blog post, I give you a song from Bob Dylan’s Highway 61 Revisited. This time, I’m going to go not for my favourite song on the album, but the most famous, and most significant. I give you: “Like a Rolling Stone”.







SONG TWENTY – A SONG THAT YOU LISTEN TO WHEN YOU’RE ANGRY

Back in the day when I was your typically angry teenager (long before I discovered Bob Dylan and just plain Chilling the fuck out), my favourite song to listen to when angry was “Just Don’t Give a Fuck” by Eminem. And while my music tastes may have changed a bit since then, I no longer have the need to calm myself with blaring music when I’m angry (I just let it burn out / smash the shit out of everything and everything in sight these days. A much more mature way of dealing with things...), so I suppose it’s only appropriate to post the song I used to calm myself down to back in the day, even though I haven’t listened to it in God knows how long, simply as a tribute to those days when it did help me out of some pretty dark places.








SONG TWENTY ONE – A SONG THAT YOU LISTEN TO WHEN YOU’RE HAPPY

Not a song that makes you happy (we already had that), but a song you listen to whilst happy? Hmmm... this could be just about any song, to be honest. I doubt there’s anyone on the planet who says “Ooh, I’m happy! I’ll listen to my happy song!” – that’s just plain weird. But, I suppose I have to pick one, so I’ll go for a song that deserves to be mentioned somewhere on this list, but probably wouldn’t get a look in if I didn’t post it here: It’s the full-length version of David Bowie’s “Heroes”.






SONG TWENTY TWO – A SONG THAT YOU LISTEN TO WHEN YOU’RE SAD

Well, this is a tough one. I’d like to put either “I’m Going to Cut Myself (I Mean it this Time)” by Death Car for Jimmy, or “I’ve Got Hurt Feelings” by Flight of the Conchords. However, this seems like a little bit of a cop-out, so I guess I’ll have to think seriously about songs I listen to when I’m sad. I can’t really put “Ohne Dich” again, so I guess I’ll just have to choose another. Still, no-one says a song you listen to whilst sad has to be a sad song, and whilst I would put “More than a Feeling” by Boston here, I got so pissed off by its constant over-use in adverts that I’m no longer quite the diehard fan of it I once was. However, that doesn’t stop me from picking another song I already used on my “10 Best Wake-up Songs” list, so rather than #1, I’m gonna pick the song I nominated as the 2nd best wake-up song to be the song to listen to when sad; it’s Tom Petty (for the second time) with “Free Falling”.






SONG TWENTY THREE – A SONG YOU WANT TO PLAY AT YOUR WEDDING

That I want to play myself, or that I want to be played? It doesn’t matter; it’s the same fucking answer either way: DU HAST by Rammstein. Unsure of why I picked it? Here’s the English version, just so you get an idea of what the lyrics are about:







SONG TWENTY FOUR – A SONG THAT YOU WANT TO PLAY AT YOUR FUNERAL

Well, I highly doubt I’ll be in any position to play a song at my own funeral, but I digress. I suspect “Another one bites the dust” is quite a popular choice, simply because it’s “Ironic”, same with “Highway to Hell”. But it’s not for me. “Never Gonna Give You Up” by Rick Astley is also presumably quite popular, because the idea of Rick Rolling a funeral is really one of the founding principles of the internet. But again, that’s not really my scene. I might also be appropriate, I suppose, for them to play “My Way” by Sid Vicious at my funeral – because what better way to be remembered than by the words of a man completely different to yourself in every way, save the fact that you can both play the bass poorly, and were both played by Gary Oldman in the movie adaptations of your life? But, in the end, I suppose I should choose something at least vaguely sensible, so I’m going for “Stayin’ Alive” by the Bee Gees. Kidding. No, I’m actually going to pick “Free Bird” by Lynard Skynard, because “Swamp Music” would have been totally inappropriate...







SONG TWENTY FIVE – A SONG THAT MAKES YOU LAUGH

Chacarron by El Mudo – I literally laughed for about 10 minutes the first time I watched “Batman on Drugs”. So now you know how poor my sense of humour is, feel free to never come on this Blog again...







SONG TWENTY SIX – A SONG THAT YOU CAN PLAY ON AN INSTRUMENT

I can play a hell of a lot of songs on Keyboard, and can play the Cowbell Solo in Blue Oyster Cult’s “Don’t Fear the Reaper” flawlessly. But really, I’m going to have to pick the first song I learnt to play on Bass Guitar, mainly because it gives me an excuse to post a badass montage video. It’s Robert Tepper’s “There’s No Easy Way Out”.







SONG TWENTY SEVEN – A SONG THAT YOU WISH YOU COULD PLAY


Portrait of Tracy by Jaco Pastorius, definitely.









SONG TWENTY EIGHT – A SONG THAT MAKES YOU FEEL GUILTY

I honestly can’t think of why anyone would feel guilty whilst listening to a song; unless you stole the record from somebody, perhaps? So fuck it, here’s some Pink Floyd:







SONG TWENTY NINE – A SONG FROM YOUR CHILDHOOD

It had to be:








SONG THIRTY – YOUR FAVOURITE SONG THIS TIME LAST YEAR

My favourite song this time last year? Fucked if I know. I don’t even remember my favourite song last month. The fact that the only music posts I put up in April last year were on N-DUBZ and the Insane Clown Posse doesn’t really help, either. I guess I’m going to have to go with Jefferson Airplane’s “Somebody to Love”, simply because I remember listening to that on my way to Cambridge at Easter last year – but to be honest, it could have been just about anything...






You know, other than The Insane Clown Posse or N-DUBZ.






VOICE

Well, I Finished Watching The A-Team This Evening, So Here's Something Completely Unrelated...

There's been a lot of talk over the past couple of weeks about the new Trey Parker and Matt Stone musical "The Book of Mormon". Having not seen the production, I decided writing an article on it would be difficult, so decided instead to test out my journalistic skills by interviewing a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of the Latter Day Saints, and asking for his opinion on the subject.




Ok, so that didn't exactly go according to plan, but that's ok, because I don't need to see a show to be able to review it. So, let's get on with: The Book of Mormon (P)review!






As we all know, Trey Parker has some seriously impressive musical credentials. Not only did he write some of the catchiest songs on the planet, but he was even nominated for an Oscar for the song "Blame Canada".




To put things in perspective, this means that Trey Parker has been nominated for more Oscars than SAM MOTHERFUCKING ROCKWELL. Now THAT's hardcore.






On top of this, we already know that Parker and Stone can handle the subject of religion with the utmost sensitivity...









And to add to this, they've even written a story in which the lead character was a Mormon before:





So they should be able to pull it off fairly successfully. In fact, they only problem I can see is that the guy playing the lead in the first run of the show looks a bit too Jewish to play a mormon...





Kidding. It's actually this guy:






And that's my (p)review. Lazy, I know, but fuck you - I don't get paid for doing this. There is, however, one more thing I wish to say about music before I finish, and that is: Everyone who is going on about "Surfing Bird" - Fuck you, shut the fuck up you fucking retards. If you haven't seen Full Metal Jacket, you don't deserve to even acknowledge the existence of that song, and I know less than 1% of you have seen it. In fact, you know what? If you haven't seen Full Metal Jacket yet, then you shouldn't even be on a Movie reviewing Blog. Just get out. Now.






But, you know, come back as soon as you've seen it so I don't lose pageviews.








Hey, and you know what? I'm not through with the music trends of today. So fuck it, this is becoming an article on things I hate about music right now. Family-Guy fans obsessing over what they call "Bird is the Word" (They can't even get the fucking name right!) comes in at #1, but that's not all that annoys me.



#2: Jessie J.




Jessie J became famous for being the singer all the websites and Radio DJs said would be "the next big thing" in the second half of last year - most of us had heard her name before she ever released a single because it was crammed down our throats constantly. When we did hear her debut single "Do it like a Dude", and saw the video to it, we all had basically the same reaction: "So, she's basically Lady Gaga, but English?". But that's not even what bothers me about her. What I hate is the song "Pricetag" - sure, it's catchy and the kids love it, but come on, it's such a ridiculous message: "We don't care about the money, money, money" - Yes, you fucking do! You saw Lady Gaga was popular for having the exact same stupid gimmicks you currently employ and decided to copy her whilst being weird was still the "in-thing". Be honest now, if you really aren't in it for the money, how come you didn't stay doing musicals in the West End? Now, don't get me wrong, I know plently of singers sell out and do more commercial songs (Katy Perry sang Gospel songs and the motherfucking Beatles were basically the original punk rock band), but they don't fucking sing about how they're not selling out, do they?!?!


Way Better than Jessie J. (Duh.)




#3 - Missing the point





I have two young cousins, one 12, and one 10, so I hear a lot about the bands which tweens think are cool these days (hence I know anything about Jessie J). One of the things they like is The Black Eyed Peas, and especially the song "Check it Out" by Cheryl Cole, Will.i.am, and Nicki Minaj. Now, whilst I could go for the standard "It's shitty and auto-tuned" approach, or "Oh, it's the video is Weaboo heaven, that must make it a good song, right?", I instead wanted to make a point about entirely missing the point.


You see, the song "Check it Out" samples the song "Video Killed the Radio Star" by The Buggles. For those of you unfamiliar with the song (PLAY VICE CITY YOU WORTHLESS EXCUSE FOR A HUMAN!), there are only three lines you need to know:


"They Took the Credit for your Second Symphony
Rewritten by Machine and New Technology
And now I understand the problems you can see"

- The song is a fucking Critique of bands who take someone else's work, remix it, and use machines to make their own dreadful music sound half decent. In essence, the song Video Killed the Radio Star was written as a "fuck you" to bands like the Black Eyed Peas - why are you sampling a song from someone who hated people sampling their songs?!?!






Now I know what you're thinking: "But 'Video Killed the Radio Star' was recorded using the new machines and technology, and was designed as just a catchy pop song, so how can it be a critique of this?" and my response to you is "Have you never fucking heard American Pie by Don Mclean?"



NOT that American Pie... and Stop Masturbating before I post Goatse. Hah, now I've made you think of it. What, you're still going? That's not right, man...


American Pie was a song about how the good old Christian Values had disappeared from music after the death of Buddy Holly, and was replaced by the overly-sexual music of Elvis, and over-political music of Dylan. McLean was writing a song in the style of Bob Dylan as a critique of Dylan, as a means of showing that Good Old Fashioned values could be turned into a song the kids would enjoy. I love Dylan, and I love that song because it is very Dylan-esque, but the fact that it is written as a "fuck-you" to Bob Dylan did not escape me.



He would have the last laugh, though, because nobody can name more than 2 Don McLean songs...



This also makes it hilarious that Madonna would cover the song. Again, like the Black Eyed Peas, it seems she missed the point.


Of course, since she used to be relatively hot, we forgave her...



#4 - YouTube





Everyone keeps going on about this 'Friday' song, yet I haven't seen one auto-tuned remix of a Charlie Sheen interview. WHAT'S WRONG WITH YOU PEOPLE?



Remember this guy? That's the potential I'm talking about here...



Or, to use the parlence of the internet;


Son, I Am Disappoint.




Great potential here, wasted. I miss the days of the Christian Bale rant, I tell you that right now...


Well, that's it for now - there's plenty of other shit goingon in the world that annoys me, but as you know, I'm lazy as fuck and can't be bothered to do anything about it. I'm debating whether to complete some of my half-finished reviews I've amassed since I started Blogging, but then again as they're generally the ones that were too shit to post at the time, that may not be such a good idea. Still, what else am I going to do with my life? Something Worthwhile?


I DON'T THINK SO!
Voice

Chris Rea: The Road to Hell Review (Text)

I heard this song on the radio yesterday evening whilst driving back from the gym, and it hooked me instantly. The track opens with a low level foreboding tone reminiscent of the scores of many old horror movies, and this is accompanied by an almost inaudible vocal track, which appears to be a radio or television broadcast recording, creating a fascinating level of suspense, and evoking thoughts of fear, perhaps even terror. The odd word will occasionally stand out, such as the word “freak”, which forces you to listen to the song more intently, in case there is some hidden message buried under the layers of atmospheric instrumentals you might hear. The faint audio track is strongly reminiscent of the audio featured on many Church of Misery tracks prior to their opening riffs, which often feature interviews with serial killers, or news broadcasts relating to the same. The fact that you can’t hear what the vocals are describing in this instance, however, makes it infinitely more chilling, and at the same time, far more interesting as well. Rea's Voice kicks in straight after this, as most of the instrumental audio fades out, to leave his voice clear, and crisp, against a faint strings background. This is probably most reminiscent of Till's opening monologue at the start of "Heirate Mich", and sets a nice tone for the rest of the song.


When the song itself kicks off, it takes things to another level still, combining the atmospheric synths heard earlier with a very sharp sounding guitar tone, and what would be a catchy pop-style drum beat were it not for the dark sound of the rest of the song. This is all accompanied by a classical piano, yet another instrument frequently used in horror soundtracks.

Rea’s vocals themselves, however, are what really make this song. His dark, harsh, haunting tone is almost identical to Leonard Cohen’s in his bleak, dystopian record ‘The Future’, and the lyrical content of the song is similar as well. Whilst the latter part of the song deals with more mundane social issues than ‘The Future’, which focuses more on the more brutal social evils we see in the modern age, the lyrics in these later verses are still very powerful, and pass on a strong feeling of dread. The first main verse after the intro and bridge, on the other hand, is so similar in style to ‘The Future’ that if you had simply showed me the lyrics to the verse and asked me to guess who wrote them, I would immediately have said ‘Leonard Cohen’, especially for the line ‘And the perverted fear of violence, chokes a smile on every face’ – one of the most mind-blowing lines I remember hearing in years. In fact, it's probably the best line I've heard in a song since I went through Leonard Cohen's musical catalogue back when I was 18 and first heard songs like 'The Future' or 'First we take Manhattan'; it's that memorable, and evokes that much emotion. Stick lyrics like these in a Cohen-sounding song like this one, and you have a recipe for success.

On the subject of lyrics, I would also like to applaud Rea’s use of the word ‘Motorway’ during the first section of the song. Often, British artists will change their vocabulary to suit an American audience better, so it’s nice to see one who doesn’t, and this also gives the song a more raw quality, and makes it feel more natural, and therefore more relevant. By not changing the lyrics to hide his nationality, Rea has made them seem more personal, and this makes them more haunting than had he not done so, because the lyrics go from being just the words of a song, to someone’s honest opinion about the way the world is turning.

So, if you’re a fan of Leonard Cohen’s late 80s - early 90s work, or just want to hear a really cool-sounding dark song, be sure to check this one out. The video's also pretty similar looking to Oliver Stone's video to 'The Future' from the end of Natural Born Killers in places, with the sped up sections of traffic intercut with dark domestic scenes, so why not check it out? It definitely gets my approval.





Awesome.


Voice

The Mystery of the Stolen Lyric - A Voice From the Pillow Adventure! (Text)

It was a day just like any other, I was researching for an article on what various album covers would look like with pictures of Tacos inserted in them, and had just scrolled past an amusing photoshop of Big Black’s Songs About Fucking when I saw it. The cover to Sonic Youth’s “Goo”. I had seen this T-Shirt worn by Indie-kids before, but as I tend to ignore anyone wearing shutter-shades or drain-pipes, had never read the words.



because, seriously, fuck this guy.



But there they were, staring me right in the face, along with a crudely photoshopped image of a taco.



“We killed my parents and hit the road”.






It couldn’t be possible. I had heard these lyrics countless times before, only varied to “killed our parents”, and not spoken by Sonic Youth. Could it really be true? Did Acid Bath really steal that line from Sonic Youth? I couldn’t believe it – and yet here was the proof, staring me right in the face. I’m not that up on Sonic Youth albums, but I knew for a fact that Goo came out before When the Kite String Pops. Could my second favourite stoner sludge Doom-metal band really have stolen from these Indie motherfuckers? There was only one thing to do – I would have to delve into the worlds of both bands, and explore their innermost depths, to discover the truth.




“You Scream, I scream, Everybody Screams for Morphine”


Amazingly, the Taco-editors seem to have the exact same taste in music as I do...

If you wanted to know about the roots of an Acid Bath lyric, the obvious place to go would be to the band’s bassist and founder, Audie Pitre. Unfortunately for me, Pitre had died way back in 1997, at the surprisingly young age of 26. I say surprising, because Jimi Hendrix, Jim Morrison and Kurt Cobain all made it to 27 before finally succumbing to the effects of the Rock N Roll life style. So, I was instead forced to track down vocalist Dax Riggs, who I found backstage after a Deadboy and the Elephantmen reunion gig.

“Yeah, I stole the lyric. So what?” he said, completely unconcerned with the seriousness of it all.

“But why?” I asked, still unable to comprehend what was happening “Acid Bath is one of the greatest stoner sludge doom metal bands to have ever existed. How could you have stolen your lyrics from a band that fucking Indie kids wear T-Shirts of?”

“Bleed me an Ocean, will ya? It’s just business. You listen to your competition so you can gauge what you’re up against, and cash in on what’s popular. You don’t wanna just release Old Skin all the time. That’s how you end up forgotten, a Dope Fiend strung out on Cheap Vodka, waiting for the arrival of the New Death Sensation, so that you may feel the embrace of the Mortician’s Flame, and rest among the Graveflowers of Venus Blue, as a New Corpse. With Thirteen Fingers. Understand?”

“Uh… sure. But why would you steal a lyric from Sonic Youth? I mean, you guys had so much going for you – do you really want to go down in history as being nothing more than that band who stole lyrics from that T-Shirt the Indie kids like?”

“It was never my choice. I used those lyrics as an Ode of the Paegan, to depict What Color is Death, so that Jezebel could understand the Finger Paintings of the Insane, and see that Dr Seuss is Dead, laying among the Bones of Baby Dolls alongside her, a Dead Girl. Diäb Soulé.”

“Ok, I’m going to be completely honest with you now, I have no idea what the fuck you just said. Is there something wrong with you?”

“The Doctors had me Tranquilized so I could not prevent their Paegan Terrorism Tactics. They’re trying to get The Blue Locust Spawning again!”

Just as I began to reach for the nearest heavy blunt object to defend myself with, in this case one of the massive Dildos from Rammstein’s special edition version of Liebe Ist Fur Alle Da, which happened to be on the table next to me, Riggs’ Deadboy bandmate Tessie Brunet walked in.

“What’s going on here?” asked Tessie, as I attempted to inconspicuously hide the 11inch pink rubber Dildo behind my back. She was kinda hot, and in different circumstances, I imagine me, her, and Ollie Riedel’s Rubber Cock could have had quite a bit of fun.




But I was here to do business, and you can’t let your dick think business. After all, how many cocks have MBAs? Point taken…

“Nothing.” I replied “I’m just asking Dax about some Acid Bath lyrics”.

“Well, you won’t get much out of him” answered Tessie, looking over at Dax in a sympathetic manner “he lost it a few years ago whilst we were on tour. Apparently someone compared us to The White Stripes, and he just couldn’t take being compared to such a pile of wank. They don’t even have a bassist for fuck’s sake! What kind of a band doesn’t have a bassist? Honestly.”

“Uh, you don’t.” I responded, clearly to the disdain of Brunet’s sensibilities.

“WE’VE HAD FOUR FUCKING BASS PLAYERS!” she screamed at me, the anger glowing like a napalm fire in her eyes. “It’s not my fault they keep quitting on us!”

“Ok, ok. My mistake” I said, attempting to cool off the situation so I wouldn’t have to deploy the Dildo that was now hidden up my shirt sleeve “I didn’t mean to insult you, I just wanted to know about this lyric is all.”

“Ok, I guess I may have over-reacted a little” replied Tessie, clearly understating her psychotic reaction to a factual statement “which lyric did you want to know more about?”

“It’s a line from Scream of the Butterfly” I stated, not sure of how much she could help, not being a member of Acid Bath “where Dax sings about how he and his Angel killed their parents, then hit the road.”

“Ah yes, I recall that one” acknowledged Tessie “What do you want to know about it?”

“Well” I said “I just discovered that it’s a line that’s used in a Sonic Youth song which came out before Hymns of the Needle Freak, and I just wanted to know if Acid Bath stole it from them, and if so why? I mean, Acid Bath are way better than some shitty Indie band.”

“HOW DARE YOU INSULT INDIE MUSIC!” Tessie roared, picking up a TV and hurling it at me. I dodged it, and deployed the weapon up my sleeve, which hit her square in the eye. Do chicks like that kind of thing???

“Aaaaargh!” she screamed out in pain as I ran away, kicking myself for forgetting that any band a reviewer compares to The White Stripes is obviously going to be Indie, and not appreciate attacks on the genre. It looked like I was going to have to find another way to get the information I desired. But how?




“Cinderella’s Big Score”




I found Sonic Youth’s hideout in the town of South Jonic, in Maryland. It had taken me 3 days, and 4 fights with Hobos, but I had finally discovered their base of operations. I walked in slowly.

“Hello?” I called, subconsciously putting my hand on the grip of the .45 tucked into the back of my jeans as I did so “anyone here?”

“Who the fuck are you?” came a female voice, and I looked up to see Kim Gordon standing at the top of a flight of stairs. At least, I’m pretty sure it was her. Sonic Youth only have one chick in their band, right?

“I’m a journalist” I lied, figuring it sounded slightly more respectable than saying I was a Blogger, and slightly less creepy than saying I’m an expert in the field of psychopathy and sexual offences, which I kind of am, but not in that way.

“A journalist, huh?” she smiled, walking down the stairs and coming to a rest in front of me. “Well, what do you want to know?”

“Well, Ms Gordon” I responded, trying to sound professional “I was interested in knowing the roots of the lyrics you featured on the cover of the Album Goo”.

“Of course” she replied, looking disappointed “that’s all anyone wants to know about. Well, follow me.”

She walked off into the back of the darkened house, into what I presumed was the kitchen. I followed, nervously, wondering what I might discover.

We emerged in a dank utility area, filled with various white goods. As in appliances, not goods that only white people can buy. She took a seat on top of the washing machine, and I was just wondering whether she was going to turn it on and use the vibrations as a masturbation aid when she spoke.

“I suppose you want to know which one of us came up with the line then?” she asked.

“If that’s not too much of a problem?” I responded. She held my gaze, calculating her next move.

“Do you like my Dirty Boots?” She asked, flashing me a glimpse of the black leather fetish boots she was wearing.

“they’re very nice” I lied.

“You can have them, you know?” she said, in a bizarre attempt to apparently buy me off.

“No thanks” I answered “I don’t think they’ll fit me. Now, about the line…”

She sighed, and looked up into my eyes. I was worried she might be trying to read my mind, so averted my gaze slightly to look at the ‘Titanium Expose’ refrigerator magazine sitting nearby.

“We got the idea from Oliver Stone” she said, softly. I rounded on her.

“What?” I said, unable to believe what I was hearing.

“You heard me” she replied “Oliver Stone, the guy who directed Wall Street. He gave us the idea for the story.”

“I’m sorry, but that’s not possible” I stated firmly, becoming agitated. She must be lying. She MUST be.

“Honestly, it’s the truth” she said, getting down from the washing machine, and standing before me once again. “It all happened in the summer of ’89. Stone was in the neighbourhood, celebrating the wrapping of Born on the Fourth of July. We were all getting drunk, and partying, when I realised my kittens, Scooter and Jinx were missing”

“I see…” I said, not really seeing, but showing off the active listening skills I had acquired whilst studying Interviewing and Testimony for my Criminal Psychology Course.

“We looked everywhere for the two of them. After all, it’s not as if they could have just disappeared into thin air like some sort of Disappearer, is it?”

“Quite” I said. Man, I was good at this active listening shit – I was gonna nail that Interviewing and Testimony unit! “Please, continue.”

“Well” she said, getting back to the story “We decided the only place they could have gone was Old Dr Benway’s House, so we crept in, and began to sneak up to the bedroom…”

“We?” I questioned. Honestly, this was so easy to do I couldn’t understand why the police force and Home Office take so long teaching their recruits how to do it.

“Yes, Mildred Pierce and myself” she replied.

“Interesting” I said, not really that interested as I had no idea who the fuck Mildred Pierce was “keep going.”

“Well” she said “We got into the bedroom, and started to look for the kitties, when out of the corner of my eye I saw a man in a Tunic…”

“Uh-huh” I said, thoroughly bored now and contemplating whether or not it would be easier just to shoot her and go interrogate Oliver Stone instead, given she’d named him as an accomplice. After all, at least I know Oliver Stone can tell a good story – fucking Platoon is the shit!

“I screamed ‘Mary-Christ’ and turned to run out of there, when we saw that the man was Tom Cruise!”

“Come again?” I asked, genuinely surprised this time.

“You know, Tom Cruise, the actor!” she said, as though I was a complete and utter moron. “He’s the inventor of the Christian Scientist movement!”

“I’m fairly sure he’s not” I said flippantly “but feel free to continue.”

“Well, he stood up like one of those Tuff Boyz, and started to walk towards me, when Oliver Stone walked in, drunk as a skunk, and started screaming about how he was going to make Tom Cruise and I the star of his next picture, which was going to be about-”

“CHARLES STARKWEATHER AND CARIL FUGATE!” I screamed, finally getting it!

“No, Mickey and Mallory Knox” she said “apparently, he was going to use his telepathic abilities to implant the idea into Quentin Tarantino’s brain, and then buy the script off him once it was written. I have no idea why.”

“Yes!” I said, excited as a paedophile watching a young boy through binoculars on Christmas morning “and Natural Born Killers was based on the case of Charles Starkweather and Caril Fugate! I may just have solved this thing!”

“Well, I hope that’s all you need” said Kim, “Because that’s all I know… Right Now”.

“I think that is all I need!” I said, turning to walk out of the door “thanks for the help!”

“Don’t mention it” she said, getting back up on the washing machine and turning it on. “Sure you can’t stay a little longer?”

“Sorry” I responded “But I have a case to solve!”

And with that, I ran out of the building, the orgasmic screams of Kim Gordon following me all the way down the road to the nearest Taxi rank, where I beat another hobo into unconsciousness just to show the cab drivers I wasn’t to be fucked with. This was going to be a good day.




"Lights out tonight, trouble in the heartland"




It was snowing when I got to Lansing, Michigan, Fugate’s current home city. Starkweather had been executed for his crimes in 1959, so she was my last hope. I walked up medical centre Wikipedia informed me she now worked in, and walked up to the reception desk.

“Ms Fugate, please” I stated. The receptionist gave me an odd look.

“You’re not one of them weirdos who is interested in them murders she was accused of way back, are you?” she enquired.

“Of course not” I responded curtly “I was always more of a Bundy man myself”.

“Hmmm…” she seemed to be deliberating whether or not I was to be trusted “ok, then – you have the face of an honest man.”

“I know” I said “it wasn’t easy slicing it off him, though!” I laughed. She gave me a cold, hard stare.

“Caril’s in the staff room” she said. “The code’s 8653. Do you want me to write that down?”

“I think I’ve played enough Splinter Cell to remember a 4 digit door code” I responded, and walked off down the corridor.

I got into the staff room after my 51st attempt at the code. Which I thought was very impressive, given a 4 digit lock has 10,000 different combinations, or something. I walked in, and saw her sitting at the nearest table. I gotta say, she was pretty fucking hot for a 77 year old woman.

“Caril?” I asked as I approached her.

“Yes?” She said, looking up.

“I’m a Journalist, I’m investigating some lyrics I believe were based around you and Charles Starkweather. Would it be ok for me to have a moment of your time?” I asked.

“Can’t you just Google it?” She said.

“… I suppose” I responded, shocked I was unable to think of this earlier. “Do you have WiFi here?”

“Sure” she replied. And with that, I took out my laptop, and logged into Google. I searched for ‘Goo album cover lyrics’ on Google. I was linked to the Wikipedia page, which told me the truth.

“So…” I said “The picture is of the witnesses in the Moors Murders case”

“and my guess would be that the quote is somehow related to that case” she said.

“yes, that would be my guess too.” I said “back to England it is!”

And with that, I dived out the window, and ran to the nearest airport. There was a little trouble at customs, because apparently seeing an out-of-breath guy running through the terminal screaming about the Moors Murders isn’t normal in America, fucking shit country that it is.




"WHEN GOD'S VOICE RISES - UNLEASH MY FLAME"




I ran into Broadmoor penitentiary a mere 4 hours after my flight landed at Gatwick international (how’s that for timing?) and went straight up to the nearest guard.

“I need to speak to Ian Brady” I panted “Please, it’s urgent!”

“Uh, Brady’s in Ashworth Hospital” the guard replied “you know, in Merseyside”.

“I thought Merseyside was in Yorkshire?” I asked, surely there couldn’t be more than one high security prison/hospital in the same county.

“No, you’re thinking of Teesside” said the guard. “I’m sorry, but there’s no way we can get you to see Brady. We have the Crossbow Cannibal, if you’re interested?”

“What, that tosser who picked his own nickname?” I asked rhetorically “can I tell him that real men let the media name them, and don’t try and come up with their own nickname they want people to remember them by?”

“Uh, sure, I guess” replied the guard, and he took me over to a cell marked ‘Stephen Griffiths’.

“What’s he doing in Broadmoor by the way?” I asked the guard quietly as we approached the cell “Surely he shouldn’t be in here unless he’s been convicted?”

“True” replied the guard “But he’s a mecha-fag. Wakefield doesn’t have time for mecha-fags, so they sent him here.”

“I see. So a Mecha fag is a Muslim homosexual or something, right?”

“That would be Mecca-Fag” said the guard “and no, he’s just a douche. Here you are.”

The guard dropped me off by the cell.

“Who are you?” Came the voice from inside.

“Stephen Griffiths?” I asked.

“That’s right” he said, coming over to the door “who are you?”

“I’m a journalist” I lied for the third time “and I just wanted to say what an honour it is to meet Pepsi Sutcliffe”.

“What?” he said in surprise “What did you call me?”

“Pepsi Sutcliffe. You know, because Peter Sutcliffe is the Coca Cola of Yorkshire based serial killings, and you’re just a poor imitation of him.”

“You son of a-”

Griffiths ran at the bars, and went headfirst into them, cracking his skull open on one of the bars, and fell slumped to the floor. The Guard turned up again.

“I think you should leave” he said.

“But I didn’t even get to rant at him about what a gay name ‘The Crossbow cannibal’ is yet!” I said, disappointed.

“Tell you what” said the guard “If he wakes up, how about I tell him for you?”


And with that, I left Broadmoor with a smile on my face. I may not have discovered the true origins of the lyrics written on the cover of Goo, but I managed to screw with someone who has mental difficulties. And in the end, is that not what made this country great to begin with?








"Most Likely You'll go you way, and I'll go Mine"




In a twist of fate, it seems Ian Brady heard about my plight, and sent me a confession admitting the origins of the lyrics a few days later. Apparently, he and Myra Hindley had written the lyrics together on a napkin during their trial, and the napkin had then been sold at auction to the highest bidder, a collector named “Stephen King”. When researching his project “Mickey and Mallory Knox, the totally bitching killers who are totally not the characters from Badlands”, Oliver Stone had contacted Stephen King about the Starkweather case, knowing King had followed it intensely throughout his childhood, and at a meeting between the two of them had stolen the napkin believing it to be magic. He had later passed the lyrics on to Kim Gordon in the attic with Tom Cruise, although the whereabouts of the napkin itself is unknown. In an Ironic twist, it turns out Ian Brady hates Hipsters, and swears on his release that he will murder everyone on the planet who owns a copy of Juno. If you want to join the campaign for Brady’s release, there is a link at the bottom of the page. I’m glad I could solve the case of the missing lyric, and prove once and for all that Acid Bath stole that line from a hardcore source, and not some hipster piece of shit. I think a child murderer qualifies as being Hardcore, don’t you?



The King of Hardcore agrees.




Voice



Stephen Griffiths goes on trial on November 16th. Please do not reprint this article until after the trial comes to an end or he may claim it infringes on his Article 6 rights under the European Convention of Human Rights, but if he does, he’s a total Mecha-fag.

Dappy Gets Caught Doing Mephedrone, then Speaks Out Against It. I Read About Dappy Doing Mephedrone, then Speak Out Against Him - The Prick (text)

BBC news today reported on the activities of my favourite rapper, Dappy, once more – this time in relation to accusations which have arisen that the star used mephedrone in a night club last month, shortly before it became illegal. Whilst I acknowledge that this hardly constitutes news, and that reporting it is indicative of nothing but a slow news day, I still can’t help but comment on the story – for reasons which will become obvious soon enough.

Whilst lower forms of media shall be reporting on the actual story itself, I myself am above such pettiness, and lament the decline of the media, chastising the man for using a substance which, at the time, was perfectly legal. No, I shall instead be reporting not on Dappy’s alleged actions, but on his words. After all, if I wanted to attack Dappy’s actions, then his texting threatening messages to a woman who dared speak out against him on the radio, or his assault charges, or indeed, his awful rapping ability, would be far more suitable starting points for mounting an assault. But instead, I want to review the man’s words. For there, and only there, lies the truth. Plus, I kinda already did that other stuff.

So, with that in mind, let us dig in to the mind of Britain’s most successful Greek Hip-Hop star:



"It's just not a thing to be doing. I've learnt my mistake. I'll never do such things again."

It’s hard to believe that Dappy, whose real name is Costas Dinos Contostavlos, got an A* grade in his English GCSE, especially when you consider that I myself only received a double A grade for English Language and Literature. Granted, I’m no Colin Dexter, and was more than satisfied with my grades, but come on – this guy can barely speak! Did he do an “English” GCSE in the same way as I did a German GCSE, or something? Hell, my German (Also an A Grade, in case you were wondering) is better than this guy’s English – and I freely admit that I can hardly speak the language! Is Dappy’s apparent pervasive developmental disorder (though, in conjunction with his short stature, is more likely to be Fetal Alcohol Syndrome induced retardation) merely an act? Indeed, the word ‘Dappy’ has recently become a pejorative term denoting an inarticulate Bellend in my personal vocabulary, so to learn that he is, in our government’s view, more qualified than I am to be writing this article, is offensive to me on so many levels. Just look at that quote above. He hasn’t learnt FROM his mistake. No, that would actually make sense. Instead, he tells us that he has “learnt his mistake”. WHAT DOES THAT EVEN MEAN? Now, I’m all for people substituting words in common usage in place of technically correct terms if it makes any logical sense – I myself used the term “self-depreciating humour” recently even though I KNEW the correct term was “self-deprecating”, and am personally a huge fan of Russell Brand’s speaking style, in which he combines common slang and regional dialects with an Oxbridge-esque vocabulary, in order to create a working man’s version of Queen’s English, and often attempt to imitate this myself (see every article on this site) – but how does that sentence even make sense? He learnt his mistake? What, he wanted to make a mistake to get him in the public eye once again, so he learnt to snort mephedrone in front of ‘Sun’ photographers? Is that what he’s saying? And don’t even get me started on “It’s just not a thing to be doing” (and yes, I do realise I just began a sentence with a preposition)!


Grammar makes me CRAAAAZZY!

But I’m getting too bogged-down in semantics. After all, no-one comes online for an English lesson. Except foreign people. No, what I really want to focus on is Dappy’s ATTITUDE, rather than his grammar. So, let’s take a look at another quote:




“You have to try things to understand that they're bad. But not always. I felt unwell that day."

Well, at least you started well, Dappy. But here’s a piece of advice; If you’re ever trying to win an argument, try not to contradict yourself halfway through, it just makes you sound like an idiot. Whilst the statement “You have to try things to understand they’re bad” is, in itself, a small gem of wisdom, which combines a mature, reflective opinion with a level of childhood innocence, the very next sentence cancels this out. “But not always". Really, Dappy? I thought you were being completely literal – I was going to suggest we try another Holocaust, just because I’ve never tried it, so don’t know if it was bad or not. So, not only is he apparently assuming that we’re all morons who won’t understand that his first sentence was primarily metaphorical, and designed to be more illustrative than literal, but he also undermines the original point he made by essentially telling us it was wrong.

“But not always, huh? You think maybe the time you were doing drugs was one of THOSE times?”.

Now, for the record, I was all for keeping mephedrone legal, and was opposed to the reclassification of Cannabis to a Class B drug last year (or was it the year before? I should know - given I wrote a 3,000 word report on it not that long ago), but come on – if you’re going to tell people they shouldn’t do the drug because it’s wrong, should you have been doing it yourself? Granted, I like getting handjobs off girls, but wouldn’t give a guy a handjob (under normal circumstances – there are obviously exceptions), but that’s besides the point… This is more like Peter Sutcliffe having a go at someone for murdering a prostitute – it’s not only Hypocritical, but it’s also a bit of a dick move.




"I just want to say that I'm more than glad genuinely that they've banned this thing because I've seen how many people are dying off it.”

How many people are dying from mephedrone? Reports suggest… uh, zero? Members of the ACMD and other organizations have confirmed that the effects of mephedrone are still not entirely known, and admit that there could be harmful long-term effects. However, there have been no recorded cases of anyone actually dying from the substance. Indeed, according to ACMD member and criminologist Fiona Measham (Dan Silverstone has not yet been reached for comment, but I’ll track him down if anyone actually insists on me doing so), the reporting of mephedrone-related deaths by newspapers followed "the usual cycle of ‘exaggeration, distortion, inaccuracy and sensationalism' associated with the reporting of recreational drug use". To highlight this issue, I shall, for your pleasure, overlay the results of “reported deaths” vs. “confirmed deaths” for mephedrone with the infamous Glasgow study of drugs deaths in the media:




[source]
*Occasionally suicides will be attributed to Cannabis use, whereas the study only shows those who died from the effects of the drug itself e.g. acute poisoning. On this note, I should point out that alcohol has not been measured in this fashion, and that only 9,031 deaths occured due to alcohol poisoning in 2008, but the increase in heart disease and cancer, etc. Not to mention crashes caused by drink-driving, and murders/suicides fuelled by alcohol, all combined make the 35,000 figure. This is therefore an exaggeration when compared with the other figures. My apologies - but I can't be bothered to edit the picture.

Now, I’m not saying we should all go out and do Mephedrone, but to say that you’re glad the substance was banned because so many people were dying of it seems... well, retarded. I don’t actually drink these days (1 year and 2 1/2 months without alcohol), so I almost don’t want to say this for risk of sounding like a self-righteous prick, but if ANY of those drugs needs to be illegal, it’s Alcohol (David Nutt agrees with me, the old flirt).

But let’s ignore the facts for now, and just look at IMAGE. What rapper in their right mind would do drugs, and then tell their fans that they think drugs are bad, and tell them not to take any (“I'd want any of our fans to stay well clear")? 50 Cent has never taken drugs in his life, but still wouldn’t dream of telling his fans not to take any, because no-one wants to have someone they look up to treat them like an idiot. You have to lead by example. And that’s a lot of the problem with Dappy – he seems to embody the very worse of rap culture without having any of the redeeming qualities that other rappers do. Using 50 Cent as an example, simply because I just mentioned him before, let’s compare the two:




50 is also an actual black guy, not a poor attempt to act like one.



Would someone shoot this prick already?




Artist's representation of what would happen if Dappy was shot.



Voice

I'm almost going to be sad in a year's time when N-DUBZ fade into obscurity. I may actually have to find something serious to write about... Like Gordon Brown calling that woman a Bigot, or whatever else the news is on about.