Friday, December 19, 2008

Tit for Tat

It's nearly Christmas, and sadly I can't keep the resentful cynicism facade up any more. I'm excited! So I've compiled a shoddily-written Alphabetical list for you. Here's A-H of the Festive Fun and Frolics List...

A is for Alcohol. Yes. Because that's what I've got for Christmas (thank you Simon), and that's what I'll be getting at Christmas, and that's what I'll be having on the night of the Christmas Party.

B is for Bastardization of some of the best songs in the musical lexicon. I'm talking of course about Cliff Richard, G4, Jason Donovan and anyone who releases an album of covers. Shudder.

C is for Cute Factor. Getting kids to do the nativity. Aaaaah. Getting younger kids to put on a play. Aah. Getting toddlers up onto a stage, culminating in at least one of them weeing/crying/giving a SHOUTY RUNNING COMMENTARY. Agh.

D is for Donkey. It is also for Dammit, My Little Brother Made £100 Just Doing His Job, And I Don't Even Have A Job (but I thought that was too long-winded and depressing).
E is for Electric Lights. Bell-shaped, berry-shaped, lantern-shaped, snowflake-shaped, aren't they pretty. And they mesmerize the living hell out of Soupy and George.

F is for Frosty. Is it just me who thinks that frost on the windscreen is incredibly beautiful? However, bear in mind that the sight of me twittering about the pretty patterns on my boyfriend's new incredibly expensive car windscreen is not as appealing to said boyfriend as he tries to remove six inches of ice armed with nothing but a Tesco Clubcard.

G is for Grandma. Out of respect, I won't say any more.

H is for Holidays. Yay, now I have extra portions of Xel, all day, every day!

In other news: Festive lols come in the form of the biggest giggle-worthy shite which I chanced upon from MSN news, or whatever it calls itself these days:

"OY POT! This is kettle, innit.......YOUR BLACK!!!!1"

Tuesday, December 09, 2008

Empty-V's begun. It was two days ago, whilst doing the ironing (law in the Neet household: if you're gracious enough to iron, you get control of the TV remote). I was flicking through the eye-popping range of music video channels (i.e. the three we have that actually play music videos, not just a myriad of early-season South Park repeats and shows depicting a day in the life of some celebrated God-knows-who that's just got married/divorced/new boobs). Anyway, it's happened - the Christmas takeover.

Not only are they 'counting down' the very living moments (including the seconds, for Santa's sake) until Christmas Day, they've roped in a collection of crusty oldies such as Tony Christie and Noddy Holder to troll through 'The Nation's Favourite Christmas Song'. Now, if you're wise (or in fact even if you have half a brain) you can figure out that if it's MTV or VH1 you're watching, it'll be The Pogues; or if it's the cheaper and chavvier The Box or Kiss or some other Godawful deriverent it'll be Mariah Carey. YAWN. Why?

I have no trouble with Christmas songs at all, in fact they're even better because they're not subject to broadcast rules so they don't get mercilessly rammed into my ears every time I turn on to the local radio station. But now it's got to the point where you have two choices: watch the Second Band Aid video three times in a row on three different channels, or watch A Day in the Life of Someone Who Was Quite Famous in the 1980s on MTV One.

This has now become a staple for the so-called 'music channels' - I have now seen waaaay too much of Katy Perry and Beyonce's recent chart forays; turn on the radio to 'escape' and there they are again. I understand they're in the Official Top Howevermany, but why do I need to be reminded of this all the time? Surely there are millions of videos out there, dating back to the 70s or slightly sooner that you can play.

And there's the problem - MTV and friends have commercialised. It's not about the music any more, it's about "BUY THIS. Listen to this. Download this - OH LOOK! This is what you're downloading today! Download it some MORE!! WHY AREN'T YOU BUYING THIS?!!"

MTV - It's only still named that because Advertising Megalomaniac Wank-Fest Society TV is too long.

Tuesday, December 02, 2008


Dear Lord, is the quality of songwriting going downhill lately?

At this point a crack opens in the clouds, a giant hand similar to the National Lottery pointer descends, casting a shaft of light upon my pasty malnourished face as a squat in front of my laptop, and a booming voice tolls, "Yes, my child. Yes it is."

So with the Good Lord's blessing, I continue. I've compiled a list to test my theory, and where better to look than the official Hit40UK charts. That's right kiddies - I'm not just scraping the bottom of the barrel, I'm transferring the resulting mulch onto my toast and eating it for breakfast. Here's a selection from the top ten singles of the week then, with a snippet of lyrics from each song (Ha!)

Take That - Greatest Day
"Today this could be / The greatest day of our lives ..."
(Or, it could be shit-awful. You just never know!)

Britney Spears - Womaniser
"Womaniser woma-womaniser you're a womaniser / Oh womaniser oh you're a womaniser baby / You you you are you you you are / Womaniser womaniser womaniser womaniser ..."
(WomaniserwomaniserwomaniserwomanisEXTERMINATE! EXTERMINATE!!!!!)

Alesha Dixon - The Boy Does Nothing
"Does he wash up / He never wash up / Does he clean up, no he never cleans up / Does he brush up / He never brushed up / He does nothing, the boy does nothing ..."
(....No comment.)

Mmm. Scrapy Goodness!!!

Needless to say it goes on. I didn't feel the need to include Akon's Right Now (Na Na Na) which includes the highly articulate phrase "I wanna make love right nah nah nah" and Katy Perry's Hot and Cold, the premise of which seems to be looking into the Thesaurus to find as many opposites as you can and shoving them together in a bid to describe a man.

Now I don't expect everyone to be as clever with their wit and piety as Elvis Costello or Chrissie Hynde (to name but two of my favorite lyricists), but come on. You may as well write a song entitled "Love" which includes only the lyrics "Love, love, lovey-woo, love-ity love-ity diddly doo" and someone somewhere will become brainwashed into believing that your song has touched their soul in a place where only surgical tools and Jack Daniels has done before.

So kiddies: please remember. Every time you use the word "baby" in a song, God gives Paris Hilton a new recording contract.