Mark Ronson
Eurgghhh. Even typing his name into the title bar makes me tremble with fury. Mark Ronson is everything that is wrong with music today. A spoilt little child who cannot stop his stupid, gormless face from spouting tripe about growing up in New York and how he’s oh so cultured, in the most pathetic nasally voice I’ve ever heard emitted by a human being. Seriously, from the permanent expression of dopieness on his face one can only assume his brain is being powered by an obese, asthmatic hamster on a slippery wheel. From all of his (wwaaaaaaayyyyyy cooler than yours) teenage years hanging out in record shops and kicking it with the most flipinnest, happnin’ kids on da street, you’d think he’d know how to pronounce ‘Moog’ properly. His music is bland, souless, with awful lyrics. That is, the music he doesn’t steal from others and then add fucking horns to. The man is a cancer.
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With the Reading & Leeds Festival over and done with, I’d like to take the opportunity to waste valuable minutes of both my life and yours, in discussing my thoughts on two bands given a fair bit of coverage by the BBC over the past weekend.
Let’s begin with The Drums. I first heard of this band on a wanky Guardian music podcast which praised the band as the ‘next big thing’ in indie music. If said ‘big thing’ were to be a steaming pile of horse manure squeezed into a pair of skinny jeans that swans around singing about pissing around on a beach then I’d have been inclined to agree. Their single, ‘Let’s Go Surfing’ sounds at best like The Beach Boys farting through a tin can, and to anyone that’s been in possession of a pair of ears (or eyes for that matter) for the last 3 years it is clear that The Drums are simply another indie band, same stupid haircuts, same skinny jeans, same tinny guitar tone, same boring lyrics. HOWEVER, whilst usually I can withstand the constant onslaught of trite indie that is thrown at me on a daily basis like musical pigshit, this band possesses an anomaly in the form of one of the most punchable frontmen since that twat from the Ordinary Boys. The way this shitmuncher dances on stage can only be described as like watching a hyperactive member of the Hitler youth that’s eaten 10 packets of skittles. Ian Curtis must be twitching spasmodically in his grave.
Tell me this is not a face you would love to beat with an old trumpet.
Oh and by the way, is it just me or does he look a lot like the ‘Tropic Thunder’ character ‘Simple Jack’?
Just sayin…
And now on to another band I’ve seen more of recently than my own mother, ‘Mumford and Sons’. I have many problems with this band, but my biggest gripe is that they have been forced down my throat like an over-enthusiastic mother bird feeding its young until it explodes in a shower of feathers and semi-digested worms. This, however, is not exactly the fault of the band, it’s not their fault people like their music right?
Is that a cappuccino stain?
Nevertheless, I still hold contempt for Mumford and Sons and here is why. Wait, let me just take a deep breath… 1. The singer reminds me of a young Tony Hadley (but as fat as he is now), 2. I’m not one for class warfare in music, but middle-class english boys pretending to be working-class american folky types makes me want to puke, 3. No-one should hold a guitar that high. NO-ONE. Even The Beatles had limits for fucks sake. In my opinion, the higher you wear your guitar, the bigger the cunt you are. It rhymes, so it must be true. 4. The name of the band, eurgh, 5. I’ll never have the same respect for waistcoats.
