What the FUCK is going on here? You’ve got the unsuccessful one out of the Comic Strip – you know, the one who was so ‘cool’ and ‘out there’ that not even hitting people in the face with household objects and shouting about farts was ENOUGH, he had to SHOW his NON-CONFORMITY by taking a three-line cameo in Trainspotting and then sinking beneath the waters of showbiz
mediocrity where he belonged. You’ve got the one who cuts up animals and sticks them in tanks to show how NON-CONFORMIST and CONFRONTATIONAL he is – yes, he CARVES them UP showing us our MORTALITY and CONFRONTING us with, um, with something, anyway it’s AHHHHHT, daaaaaaaaaaaaaaahling. For Christ’s sake. I carved up a chicken myself over the weekend, but I didn’t stick it in formaldehyde and call it art, I ate the fucker and so should you, you twat. And then you’ve got Alex James. Ugh. Waiter, there’s something hideous floating in my soup. I think it’s Alex James. Take it away please.
You could probably explain away that little rant as merely jealousy at never getting invited to their little ‘do’s, mixed with a little anti-intellectualism as I’m obviously far too thick to understand Pickled Cow no.9. You could probably also say that my hatred of Alex James was irrational, especially considering that there are far more deserving targets, for example Liam Gallagher, who I haven’t had a real go at in days. Liam does actually remind me of one of those stinking chunks of birdshit that you can’t scrape away no matter how dry and mouldy they get, but that’s not the point. Christ, he’s a horrible little bastard… ANYWAY. Fat Les.
You COULD dismiss my hatred of this conglomeration of fear as anti-intellectualism and social jealousy… UNTIL THEY MADE VINDALOO. A NOVELTY record! A FOOTBALL song! Do you hate ALL novelty records? Where would we be if the FOOTBALL song were to die out? Personally, on this score I can safely say that if David Baddiel was ritually burnt, if the Lightning Seeds were to be shot with bullets until their riddled corpses fell off a hundred-foot cliff, and if 1966 were to be wiped from human memory – “I still remember that tackle by Moore BECAUSE I’M A SAD FAT WASTE OF A LIFE” – I would lose no sleep at all. THE POINT IS that this is NO ORDINARY NOVELTY FOOTBALL SONG. This is DEEPLY IRONIC. “We’re just having fun” grins Keith as he swims about in a big tank for a photo-op. “We wanted to do a pop record” smirks Damien as he lounges on a flourescent sofa in a clashing suit while the cameras make love to his sweaty frame. “Mmmmppphhrrrgg” shouts Alex through a mouthful of cake – the same cake which he is locking away in a cupboard, to own forever. Surely such a thing is not possible – but see! He has done it!
‘Vindaloo’ was presented to the magazines as IRONY-LADEN ‘It’s-only-pop-music-dahling’ AAAAAHT for the ‘in’ crowd at EXACTLY THE SAME MOMENT that skinheads o’er the land were kicking heads in while shouting ‘nah nah naaaah, nah nah naaaaaaah’. I could probably write a long, incisive COMMENT peice about this, about how easy it is to package a ‘hymn to diversity’ in ‘going home in an ambulance’ wrapping, or about how these people have their share of responsibility for the British Film Industry – i’m sorry, the British-Hype ‘Film’ Industry – I beg your pardon, for the ‘All-dahn-the-Nag’s-Head-avinaLAAAAARF-innit-ooh-got-my-hands-on-a-wad-of-Ayrton-Sennas-off-the-back-of -a-lorry-issa-deal-issa-steal-issa-sale-of-the-fackin-century-I’m-awfully-sorry-dahling-would-you-like-that -in-a-more-authentic-tone-of-voice-DDDDDAAAAHHHHNN-THE-NAAAAHHHHHHGGGG’s-EHHHHHD- MMMMAAAHHHH-SAAAAHHNN’ Industry… I could use ‘Vindaloo’ as a springboard for any number of justified rants, but instead I’ll simply say this:
FAT LES ARE A SMUG BUNCH OF MEDIA WHORES WHO SHOULD HAVE STAYED IN THE GROUCHO CLUB KISSING JONATHAN ROSS ON HIS HAIRY ARSE.
And I’ll leave it at that.