Self Praise…
Occassionally, I get bored of my entire music collection. I don’t go off it, I just don’t have anything I feel listening to from time to time. It is at times like these that I trawl the internet for new music. Lately I’ve been looking for unsigned acts and I’ve found a few excellent ones. These, I found by accident as there didn’t seem to be much of a blurb about the bands. This, I’ve found, is key to finding a decent band. Someone who doesn’t think they’re the most important fucking band to grace the planet.
This is a small section of one artists bio. I’ve removed the name to protect the rubbish:
“___ was considered the most influential member of the much loved _______. A singer songwriter from NYC, she exudes passion, talent and excellence. A richly talented musician and lyricist, ____’s live performances have been described as electric and exhillerating…”
Ok, “richly talented lyricist; let’s explore that fucking myth by viewing some of this fucking numpty’s lyrics:
“We don’t talk anymore. We don’t speak anymore. I have been your loving wife, now looking at you, it cuts like a knife.
We don’t cry anymore. We don’t weep anymore. I’ve been your lover, I’ve been your friend but now iiiiiiiiittttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttt’s…………………… THE END”
Ok, firstly, this husband of hers is clearly a fucking moron because she has to use two different words to describe the same fucking thing. Oh, and by the way, robbing clichés from Bryan Adams does not make you a fucking “richly talented lyricist”.
As for the vocal, it is a mixture of Karen Carpenter with a peg on her nose and Bonnie Tyler with a sock in her mouth.
The point of this rant is that I fucking wish people would stop writing their own blurb or press releases. The above one is clearly written by herself because, if she has been influential in anything it is that she has influenced people to reach over and fucking throttle her.
Here’s another thing. Parents; stop being fucking stupid about their kids. If they think they can sing but can’t, just fucking tell them they can’t sing. Don’t fight back the grimmace of genuine pain to say, “that was beautiful, love”. Just say, “look, you could do a lot of things in your life but, let me tell ya, singing aint one of them”. Think of the hatred and ridicule you’re letting them in for. We’ve all seen that idiot in a pub who is “cajoled” up to sing, looks all humble and embarrassed and then assumes some enigmatic pose and proceeds to caterwaul through a horrendous version of Wind Beneath My Wings. That person’s parents and friends have been cruel by not not telling him or her that they are utter shite!
If you love music but have no talent, become a fucking DJ or a fucking cult leader or something. Fuck’s sake.
Ok, I’m aware that some of you may feel tainted by the aforementioned lyrics so here’s some great music to put you back in a good mood. Remember, if you can’t sing, don’t fucking sing along!
