I Hate Music
Everyone knows one fact about ZZ Top.
The one without the beard is called Frank Beard.
Everyone should know this other fact about ZZ Top.
They are not top in any way. Except perhaps top of my hitlist.
Think about it. Many a plumber or a air-conditioning supplier give themselves names like A1 Plumbers of AAAAAirCon. Why? Puts them first in the Yellow Pages. One can only imagine therefore that ZZ Top only got into the pop business because no-one was calling up their electricians business. Can’t be any other reason.
I always wonder if Jamelia’s mum was a messy eater and hence her birth certificate accident. Or perhaps it was one of those cases where the mum really wanted a kid called James. Whatever, the Jam type Amelia reckons you can See It In A Boys Eyes. What is it you can see?
Well if the boys are like any I have ever met you can generally see an overwhelming lack of intelligence. The pupils in boys eyes, when not obscured by flopping dronerock fringes, are like bottomless pits of idiocy. That is what I can see in a boys eyes.
What Jamelia sees is the reaction from a man friend who only ever criticises her. Now as a card carrying feminist (the card is an AA Home Start card, which is six year out of date but…) I can sympathise. Blokes are always criticizing me for not liking their Jesus and Mary Chain records, or dancing along to Basement Jaxx. But where my sisterhood with shirt skirt Jamelia ends is that the criticism of me is not justified. Whereas her boyfriend moaning about her music is completely justified what with her being crap. Sure you can see it in a boys eyes, but surely she could see it in the eyes of everyone on Top Of The Pops.
Is it because she is blind that she feels for me? Or that the lights are off? Either way the last thing I want is a woman with scary hair groping me up and down. Especially if she is then going to drag along fellow blind man Stevie Wonder on harmonica and Mellie Mel (so bad they named him the same thing TWICE) to stumble around in the room. Of and who is that in the corner. Diminutive groper Prince who also fancies “feeling for me” even now I have turned the light on.
I Feel For You is an appalling piece of mid eighties muck. Disco diva: Check. Some rapping: Check. Stevie Wonder’s nasty one size fits all mouth organ playing. All summed up in a song so poor that the Bangles probably rjected it. It has thouse Star Wars breaks in it which always make me think of Chaka getting shot with a futuristic ray gun (not an unpleasant thought) but beyond that it is like a cess pit of all that was poor about eighties black music. The rap is not credible, the song is pathetic, and she feels for me? Well I suppose after creating this kind of pain she should feel sorry for us. I would rather she did the time for her crime though.