OFFICIAL 2022 BLACKLIST: List of Artists That Officially Deserve No Respect [IMPORTANT]

In a lot of way, it’s not your fault that you like shit stuff. A lot of the shit stuff you like you had no control over. Maybe the culture you were raised within normalised such abhorrence. Perhaps you just had really stupid friends growing up who liked really stupid things. I’m not going to blame you for that. You rarely get much choice who your friends are, they’re often just there because of some past and continued convenience. Maybe your friends from school are now registered sex offenders, maybe they’re big Fast and Furious fans, but either way it’s not your fault. Your parents could have maybe brought up in an environment where liking such absolute shite isn’t something to ashamed of. Is it your parents’ fault?? Am I saying that they’ve somehow failed at child rearing because of your shitty tastes??

Yes. That’s exactly what I’m saying. But it’s not your fault. Please don’t take any of this post as me mocking your artistic choices. You can’t help it, you’re just wired that way, and me making fun of it would be like you making fun of my cauda equina. Like, dude, come on, I can’t help it. Cryemojicryemojicryemoji. You know how it goes.

You might have seen this repugnant rabble advertised recently:

Continue reading “OFFICIAL 2022 BLACKLIST: List of Artists That Officially Deserve No Respect [IMPORTANT]”

Necessary Evil 2020 pt.14 (10-8)

Yeah, that’s right, I’m rolling on through!! I’ve promised myself that I can play a bit of the Resident Evil 3 remake after I finish this entry, so don’t expect me to be 100% focused…

#10 Charli XCX: how i’m feeling now

Oh, so she uses proper capitalisation on the album cover, but not in the official stylisation?? Seriously, Charli, what the WTF?

There is no better artist in recent times at embracing the everything than Charli XCX. Her genius has always been to encompass pretty much every facet of modern pop music and modern sound into bite size chunks and serving them up for the aimed consumption of literally every single person on Earth. She has always liked to do this through bridging as many connections with as many people as possible. She is an insanely public artist, connecting to all of her fans on every social platform and ensuring that they are always explicitly aware of how important they are in whatever success she has, leading to live performances that can feel more like a mass therapy session mixed with the prelude to the greatest mass orgy all thousand people present have ever experienced mixed with the purest exhibition of Arthur Janov‘s treatment of primal screaming. She’d also do this by collaborating with as many other artists as she could, ensuring that so many of her fans were introduced to slightly more challenging acts such as Cupcakke, Dorian Elektra and Tommy Cash. You have to imagine that Charli hugs each and every person she passes on the streets and tells them that she loves them, and to never stop being awesome. It makes every trip to the Post Office last about an hour and 45 minutes. For this most hyper-interactive, hyper-communicative, hyper-compassionate and hyper sharing artist- one who thrives on the maddening stimulation of modern life- to suddenly find that you’re not allowed to meet with anybody and, really, shouldn’t even leave your freaking house might have come as a defeating blow, like if you’re a My Little Pony fan and the government suddenly announced all swastikas were now illegal.

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4 Little Simz: Grey Area

I say it with my chest and I don’t care who I offend, uh huh, ha

Just to let you know, dear reader, at times in this article it may sound like I’m derogating the general situation or decrying a loss of civility in wider society or lame things like that, but I am actually complaining about you personally, as your own behaviour is at the centre of what I’m talking about and it is completely within your power to address it. And, I’m sorry, but if you consider yourself left wing then you really are chiefly what I’m thinking of. We cool? We cool??


If you are left wing, you are (generally, generally, generally!!) concerned with supporting the community rather than the individual but also want the state to make it as easy as possible for a human being to express themselves freely and with a truly equal framework of opportunity. That’s cool and- you know what?- I probably agree with you. If you are right wing you are (generallyGen-er-motherfuckin’-ly!!!) concerned more with allowing the more successful people as little impediments to their achievements as possible, you think the best state is one that interferes as little as possible, that things like high taxes and overzealous bureaucracy only discourages human potential. You (GENERALLY!!!!) thank that to support the less successful financially is actually just encouraging people to ‘do nothing’ and removes the impetus for them to truly excel. That’s cool. I don’t agree, but we both honestly believe that our positions on society are what’s best for either the good of the community/country/world or just, y’know, yourself and your own family. Maybe the latter’s more important to you. Maybe the former’s more important to me only because it will increase the good of the latter. Maybe we both think that the former plays a part in improving the latter but without the latter being dealt with the former has no chance but without the former being stabilised we don’t even have a latter but then what is the former if not just a larger collection of latters and the latter and the former both need to somehow work in synergy? Yes, that’s probably the one statement we can all agree with.

Continue reading “4 Little Simz: Grey Area”

58 CHVRCHES: Love is Dead

‘Love Is Dead’ is, as many commentators have already pointed out, a lot like Chris Pine’s penis. I can appreciate it, I understand why people might like it, and it’s definitely technically extremely sound. I can even perceive things about it that people would definitely like, and in theory there are many things about it that I should really be a fan of. On paper, ‘Love is Dead’/Chris Pine’s penis should be something I’m really into, they’re both legitimately ‘dazzling‘, there’s absolutely nothing wrong with either of them and there are no holes I can pick in…


I mean… yeah… I suppose that… Chris Pine’s penis… pick a hole… Never mind, this analogy is golden. Let’s move along.

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66 Charli XCX: Pop 2

“You got me doin’ all this stupid shit/You fuck me up like this/Secretly I’m into it though”





So it’s 2018, and I still think that in many ways we really need to demystify sex. I know, I know, my views on sex are probably about as valid as a chinchilla’s take on the fallout from the Arab Spring. Sure, you’ll be slightly impressed that the chinchilla (me) has at least heard of it, but you’re unlikely to think that his views on the matter carry much weight and are worth much consideration, and all things considered you’d really prefer it if the chinchilla (me) instead concentrated on learning not to shit on the carpet. Regardless, I honestly don’t think I’m going to be hurting anyone by expressing these views, and my opinions are backed with absolutely no conviction of bravery at all, so I’ll just delete this post if it ever looks like I’m likely to be included in Jon Ronson’s next book. And anyway, in terms of people thinking less of me, I don’t think there’s a lower level for me to collapse into.

Continue reading “66 Charli XCX: Pop 2”

26 Public Service Broadcasting: Every Valley

The Mining Industry’s Colapse is Unfortunately Not Always Super Entertaining


I don’t think any widely used (and often misquoted) maxim gets me more riled* than the one that supposes all the world’s problems could have easily avoided if people just payed a little more attention in history class.

History’s great: the past was fucking mental and studying quite how bananas it was is always fascinating. In fact, I’d say that out of all the school subjects history was definitely my favourite ‘ry’, better than chemistry, carpentry and podiatry (my school was very weird). But to say that knowledge of it would prevent making similar mistakes in the future just completely misunderstands human psychology: when you hear of past logistical failures, you don’t wisely choose to avoid making the mistakes, you do it all exactly the same because, deep down, you know that it’ll work when you do it because you’re frickin’ awesome. Do you think that in late 1942 some bespectacled nerd Nazi soldier (a ‘nazerd’? A ‘nerdzi’? Yeah, I like that second one) hurried to the front of the battalion encroaching on Russia with his school history text book shouting at the admiral “Hey, mate, hey! I’ve just read up a bit on this whole ‘invading Russia’ lark, and it turns out it might not be a good idea…!”

No. Hitler knew all about his history. He just assumed that he would be able to get it done right. Because he was Adolf fucking Hitler and he didn’t give a fuuuuuuuuuuuuck, yo.



Continue reading “26 Public Service Broadcasting: Every Valley”

106 Lambchop: Flotus

Erm… I mean… Yeah, go for it…


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In the sometimes murky waters of the markedly less fabulous albums of 2016 in which we have been of late wading in, I have often complained that what it is that causes these records to split their foreheads open on the glass dome preventing them from gaining access to the land of the truly magnificent is that far too often they feel like they’re making compromises and blunting their edges in an attempt to ensure wider appeal, so it’s only right that I praise Lambchop (love that name +1) for making an album that spectacularly refuses to conform to expectations, and strives to please absolutely nobody, save the landlord at their recording studio, who is delighted that the recording of ‘Flotus’ (love that name +1) was much quieter than usual


That was a fucking mega sentence, wasn’t it?


Such lengthened grammatical structure is extremely apt, because I am a certified genius, as it references the fact that La-La have no issue with spending as long as eighteen minutes over a track, because they get paid to make music now, so fuck all of y’all, they’ll do what they freaking want


Radiohead would kill to have the balls to make a record as unyieldingly inaccessible as this…


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Experiential dirge seemingly for the hell of it? At least

8 Prince Points

However, the hour long slap across accessibility’s face with a wet fish of artistic inflexibility is far easier to admire than actually like


Much like my daughter’s husband Albert: I mean, I really appreciate how much money he’s made of by designing a cold-water filtering system which eliminates 2.7% of all office shredder waste, but sweet Jesus is he boring!! Yes, Albert, you told me last time how you saved 34p by buying your chalkboard and chalk at two separate retailers, I really think you should look into investing in a new anecdote, especially because most people you know would have heard it in your wedding speech. I sometimes wish she’d get back with Darren. Yeah, I know, he used to tie up her in the cellar and burn her with his crack pipe, and had that weird sexual fetish about Nazi prison guards that I kept insisting to him was not appropriate after dinner conversation, no matter whose Bar Mitzvah it was, but at least he was fun! And he did a hilarious impression of a Polish person trying to order seafood, which definitely wasn’t racist because he said he had a friend at work who was black


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I initially just planned to describe Darren’s enjoyment of crack pipe torture, but because of how the drug crack can conjure up unwarranted and unnecessary racial stereotypes , and the fact that I’m a Social Justice Snowflake Cluck, I decided to add the Max Mosley Third Reich fetish to muddy the assumptions a bit. Since you ask, Darren was actually white, not that it makes a difference. Funnily enough Albert is black, which makes his dullness all the more surprising, as you’d think he’d break out into a breakdance or a gangsta rap at some point

‘Flotus’ is a lovely album in theory, but in content…

well, there isn’t really any content. I listened closely last time it politely dribbled out of my speakers and this is the entire timeline of its 68 minutes:

03:31 Has it…? I think… Yeah, it’s started

15:56 The band accept that Mike isn’t going to turn up, and decide to see what the buttons on the keyboard do

26:02 The pianist clears his throat, the rest of the band stop playing as they await his announcement

27:23 No, he wasn’t requesting their attention, he just had a bit of a dry throat

34:21 In the background, you can hear the producer enquiring whether anyone wants any tea

34:23 H-ho! A bit of a beat!

34:25 Wait, no, it was just the lead singer nodding his head, you could hear his beard scratch against his chest

48:43 Do Lambchop have beards? I feel like they do, or at least should have. Well, if they didn’t have beards when this record started…

53:51 Yeah, I can definitely hear a lot of beards now

73:43 Nice!!

74:23 No, my mistake, I really liked the sound of that but it turns out it was just a boy outside throwing a plant pot at a squirrel

85:21 That squirrel isn’t moving…

92:45 Should I call RSPA or…?

104:34 Nah, it’s fine…

134:04 Oh! It’s picking up a bit now!!

165:32 No, wait…

184: 45 I think it’s finished


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I joke! I joke! Hey, Lambchop, you’re alright! There are some great songs on ‘Flotus’, Writer and Niv especially, and kudos for seeing nothing wrong with ending the album with a eighteen minutes of barely distinct synth that occasionally implores us to ‘do the Hustle’


Hang on… are they taking the piss…?



If they are, it’s a remarkably successful troll


Length 63 minutes

but… yeah, whatever…


Best Lyric: ‘Daddy made me fight, it wasn’t always right/But he said, “Girl, it’s your second amendment” +1

Is the last song just the first track but played on Ukelele? No -1

Total 55

Images stolen from: