I Hate Music
I got mail. Well a comment from someone calling him/herself TamilTyger after my comments about Mika’s probable blindness*:
Dear Tanya, this is a bit of a cheap shot, even for you. Not to mention the fact that whilst that is a terrible cover, I cannot believe you did not notice the covers to MIA’s albums whilst in the MI section of Virgin Megastore. Surely they are much, much worse.
And she always wears dark sunglasses like she is blind.
Whilst I stick by my assessment of the MIKA album cover, TamilTyger does have a point. Of course I did not notice it in the MI section of the Virgin Megastore, because to enter such a place would be putting myself, and everyone at mortal danger of me going on a killing spree. And as we know, presence of dark glasses does not mean that you are actually blind (cf the actually just colour blind Stevie Wonder).
Nevertheless, TamilTyger does have a point. As such I present you with a dangerous competition. I suggest you don dark glasses (or borrow MIA’s or indeed Stevie Wonder’s) before clicking through.
Mika is a pop wunderkind isn’t he? Not content with “trying a little Freddie” in his intercontental balistic miss of a single Grace Kelly, he is now – er – trying a little Freddie in his Fat Bottom Girls rip “Big Girl (You Are Beautiful)”. Now I’m not a big girl, which means I should be safe from his grasping hands. Though actually he’s probably trying a little Freddie in his sexual proclivities as well. You don’t have to be gay to rip-off the Scissor Sisters, but it helps.
But his sexuality is not what the cover of Life In Cartoon Motion is trying to tell us. Look at its poorly scrawled jumble of second hand Sesame Street link sections. Possibly you can hear the chimes of the “One Two Three Four Five…” song. (I rather imagine the digital countdown of a classic movie style bomb but each to their own).
Mike Scott was not a clever man. For instance, he seems unaware that all he has to do to see the whole of the moon, rather than a crescent, is wait a couple of weeks.
However, the object of his affections in this song is perhaps even more stupid than him. The lyrics – while couched in the visionary allegory one might expect from a man who has “heard the big music” and so “will never be the same” – paint a pretty shocking picture.
Biblical scholars, have recently queried the standard translation of this particular part of the Bible. One of the more famous bits, this common exclamation was seen as a way of thundering against mortality, at challenging the heavens and claiming ones own manhood against the ages. All well and good during the period of the King James Bible, when mankind really was in a dark age and needed the succour of this kind of homily. In the King James Version it reads as follows:
“O death, where is thy sting? O grave, where is thy victory?”
I set fire to an arcade once.
Well, who could resist burning the leaping loons playing Dance Dance Revolution. I heard the thumping base of “You Can’t Touch This”, two synchronised robo-teens and all I could think of, whilst lighting my Molotov Cocktail was Die Die Revolution. Anyway, this deceptive album cover in full:
Remind you of anything?
Why is pornography on the top shelf of a newsagents? Why are skin flicks on late at night? Why has Bob Dylan got a face that would scare off any babe-in-arms?
SIMPLE: TO KEEP THIS SICK FILTH AWAY FROM OUR CHILDREN.
I also used to think this was why they kept ABBA records on the top shelf of a record store, until I realised that it was just a happy coincidence of alphabetisation. Nevertheless the western social contract appears to suggest that there are certain things that children should be protected from while they are at an impressionable age. So while I disagree that the legal drinking age should be eighteen (nothing binge like in my teenage gin experiments), it has had the happy upshot of saving our children from many live music venues. If you have to be eighteen to got to G-A-Y then maybe you will be spared the tawdry site of seeing Danii Minogue launch her thirteenth comeback.
Do I have to write any words at all?
Surely John Peel’s love for Don Van Vliet says it all. Surely the sunken hearts of every teenager who bought Trout Mask Replica in the belief it was the best album ever, only to realise it was a collection of sixth form poetry and farm noises says it all. Surely the fact that John Harris recently decided it was alright said it was alright for the rest of the universe to pull back and reveal it was all just ONE BIG JOKE ON PUDDING BOWL HAIRCUTTED WORZEL GUMMIDGE.
There really isn’t anything I need to say to persuade anyone, surely, that Beefy is a pile of old toss.
Ha ha, finally I get the jump on my arch-nemesis Tom Ewing and his music loving ways. Over on his tedious attempt to commit suicide / listen to every UK number one ever he is stuck in the hinterland on 1972. Possibly with the odd sequin between his teeth and losing the ability to spell (due wholly to Noddy “short for Nodward” Holder). Well I am ahead of him now, as Lieutenant Pigeon’s biggest hit (and to be fair only hit of note, though the notes issue is one I shall shortly get to) was also from 1972, which he hasn’t reached yet. So let me put on my finest false beard and predict what Mr Ewing will fawn over this song.
“I have never been convinced by the excuse that a track is merely a novelty single.
“Damn fine Cherry Pie”. Such was Agent Smith’s catch phrase in David Lynch whacked-out-a-thon Twin Peaks. (A TV show responsible for not only Julee Cruise’s aural mogadon “Falling” but THE ENTIRITY OF MOBY’S CAREER – so Lynch is not on my Christmas card list). Clearly Agent Smith was talking about an actually Cherry Pie, and not this archetypal slice of hair metal by Warrant. Because there are plenty of words that describe this record, but Damn Fine are not amongst them*.
Actually the XTC single is called Sgt.Rock, where Sgt is the abbreviation for Sergeant. Which is not surprising for XTC, a band so poor at spelling that they could not spell their own name. Even the home counties numb-nutts that were EMF knew that Ecstacy starts with an E. Unless they were taking advice from the E-Zee Possee (more poor spellers) who foolishly believed that Everything Starts With An E. Actually what Mr E.Z.Possee actually should have noticed was the following things started with an e:
1) The Word Everything
2) Everything that begins with an E
3) All his GCSE results.
But I digress.
Sgt.Rock is a song about the wussy boys from XTC being a bit rubbish with girls.