Umm....Brilliant.
Wimp Daddy:
Indie rock is single-handedly responsible for the emasculation of the American man.
by Steven Wells (British music journalist - and my own personal Hermes)
A recent New York Times article pointed out that Coldplay are "insufferable." This is true. The same article also claimed Coldplay's whiny muzak has particular appeal to "moony high school girls."
While this is also true, it kinda detracts from the fact that Coldplay's core demographic-as with all indie bands-is micro-penised misogynist milksops, the sort of spiritually acned freaks who alphabetize their record collections and hate proper pop, because girls like proper pop and girls are smelly.
On behalf of the people of Great Britain I'd like to take this opportunity to apologize for Coldplay. I'd also apologize for U2-unarguably the worst band ever-but they're Irish and therefore not my responsibility.
Okay, so it's true we limeys have got a lot to be proud of. For decades we took American music, gayed it up and then sold it back to you all shiny, new and improved. The Beatles, punk rock, acid house and heavy metal were all wonderful byproducts of this fruitful cross-Atlantic symbiosis.
But they're all negated by the hideous combination of self-indulgent emotional scab-picking and jingly-jangly guitar that is indie. Indie is rock that's afraid to rock. It's pop stripped of all fun, joy and sex. Indie, in short, is the musical equivalent of vegetarianism.
The Smiths started the rot way back in the '80s, but Morrissey-long thought to be buried at some crossroads with a stake through his vile black heart-put out a new album just last year. And Teenage Fanclub-the undisputed nabobs of shit-pop-have recently risen from the undead.
Indie has also given us those frankly rather pedestrian Knack sound-alikes the Kaiser Chiefs and Franz Ferdinand. Indie begat emo (whining punks) and nu-metal (whining metalers).
In fact-thanks to Morrissey and the herd of lip-chewing limey pantywaists that trailed in his gladioli-strewn wake-every baggy-arsed teenage tosspot on the planet now thinks he has the right to drone on and on about every single person who's ever looked at him funny, suggested he wear trousers that fit properly or laughed at his stupid haircut.
I'm sorry. I'm sorry for Travis, Alfie and Turin Brakes. I'm especially sorry for Badly Drawn Boy. If I had a time machine I'd travel back and run Morrissey over as he walked to that Smiths audition. But I don't. And so the plague of what Joey from Slipknot once so eloquently described as "retarded fucking dudes that are fucking depressed" continues unabated.
You may have kicked British ass in 1776, but they've retaliated by poisoning the souls of your male children. And if that's not worth a war, what is?
Indie rock is single-handedly responsible for the emasculation of the American man.
by Steven Wells (British music journalist - and my own personal Hermes)
A recent New York Times article pointed out that Coldplay are "insufferable." This is true. The same article also claimed Coldplay's whiny muzak has particular appeal to "moony high school girls."
While this is also true, it kinda detracts from the fact that Coldplay's core demographic-as with all indie bands-is micro-penised misogynist milksops, the sort of spiritually acned freaks who alphabetize their record collections and hate proper pop, because girls like proper pop and girls are smelly.
On behalf of the people of Great Britain I'd like to take this opportunity to apologize for Coldplay. I'd also apologize for U2-unarguably the worst band ever-but they're Irish and therefore not my responsibility.
Okay, so it's true we limeys have got a lot to be proud of. For decades we took American music, gayed it up and then sold it back to you all shiny, new and improved. The Beatles, punk rock, acid house and heavy metal were all wonderful byproducts of this fruitful cross-Atlantic symbiosis.
But they're all negated by the hideous combination of self-indulgent emotional scab-picking and jingly-jangly guitar that is indie. Indie is rock that's afraid to rock. It's pop stripped of all fun, joy and sex. Indie, in short, is the musical equivalent of vegetarianism.
The Smiths started the rot way back in the '80s, but Morrissey-long thought to be buried at some crossroads with a stake through his vile black heart-put out a new album just last year. And Teenage Fanclub-the undisputed nabobs of shit-pop-have recently risen from the undead.
Indie has also given us those frankly rather pedestrian Knack sound-alikes the Kaiser Chiefs and Franz Ferdinand. Indie begat emo (whining punks) and nu-metal (whining metalers).
In fact-thanks to Morrissey and the herd of lip-chewing limey pantywaists that trailed in his gladioli-strewn wake-every baggy-arsed teenage tosspot on the planet now thinks he has the right to drone on and on about every single person who's ever looked at him funny, suggested he wear trousers that fit properly or laughed at his stupid haircut.
I'm sorry. I'm sorry for Travis, Alfie and Turin Brakes. I'm especially sorry for Badly Drawn Boy. If I had a time machine I'd travel back and run Morrissey over as he walked to that Smiths audition. But I don't. And so the plague of what Joey from Slipknot once so eloquently described as "retarded fucking dudes that are fucking depressed" continues unabated.
You may have kicked British ass in 1776, but they've retaliated by poisoning the souls of your male children. And if that's not worth a war, what is?