#45 Taylor Swift: Midnights

This post might actually be my last. It’s been fun. Occasionally.

OK, if you haven’t been following the news recently, I might have to give you a quick primer. I get it, don’t worry, it can be a nasty world out there and sometimes we have to attempt to protect our own mental health by not even engaging with the horror, I completely understand if you aren’t up on possibly the biggest story of late 2022. Trigger warning, this might be the most upsetting. Remember a few days ago when I posted my Pusha T post? Fifty second best album of the year? Not bad, right? Sure not as high as the near top five placing that Rolling Stone had (bafflingly) deemed it worthy of, but then I’ve certainly been questioning if it’s actually better than Alvvays, Lykke Li, The Smile or Big|Brave, so… it all works out? I dunno, whatever, that’s where the album fell. Was it a particularly good post? Hmmmmmmnot especially. I didn’t spend anyway near the time on it that I dedicated to Tanya Tagaq or Arcade Fire, for instance, but likely because there weren’t any sexual assaults or cultural genocides to discuss. I mentioned how Pusha’s lyrics often don’t convey what he thinks they do, which I would have liked to delve into more given the time. As a post in general though, particularly when compared to my best work, it was definitely m-m-m-m-m-m-m-m-m-m-m

Yes! It’s getting more and more difficult to use that MJF meme, but – bah Gahd! – I still manage it!

THIS IS ALREADY AMONG YOUR BEST WORK

#63 Rina Sawayama: Hold the Girl

Get in line, pass the wine, bitch, we’re going straight to Hell

This Hell

There are few things as indicative of a grossly rotten capitalist system as Elon Musk. If this was a world that worked in the slightest way, if it was properly focused on providing correctly for all human life, or even if it were really the meritocracy that many on the right and the centre claim it to be, then people like Elon would not exist.

Elon Musk has, according to Forbes, eight two sillywillion-scumskillion-foreskillion-skatupllion dollars. Remember how arsey I got about Beyoncé? Well, Elon Musk spends ‘a Beyoncé’ every day on one of his special artisanal morning coffees (he makes it out of unicorn anuses and the condensed tears of one hundred an fifty million starving children, which needs to be collected en masse overnight. Tastes quite nutty. Because Elon nuts in it. Because the idea turns him on so much). If Elon earned this money by being especially good at something like playing billiards – even if he were the best billiard player in the God damn world – then being allowed to greedily accumulate that much wealth would still mean the system is broken. But Elon isn’t especially good at anything. It’s just the whole depressing and boring vulture capitalist, venture buyouts, stock market nonsense that all rich people do.

YOU MUST HAVE REALLY ENJOYED THIS ELON MUSK ALBUM

#69 (dude) Govier: Little Falls

Heeeeeeeeey, when did people start saying “Nice” after they say “69”? This isn’t a ‘bit’, I know that recent posts may have lead you to believe that I am a master wordsmith full of devilish literary tricks to evoke all sorts of thoughtful commentaries, but this is an actual serious question. There is only one response to a sudden appearance of the number 69, and that is to shout “SIXTY NINE DUDE!” and then air guitar. It’… it’s… it’s… it’s just how it’s done!

Have we as a society already forgotten ‘Bill and Ted’s Excellent Adventure’?? What a damning indictment of the social media frazzled attention spans of modern culture, how we’re so quick to move on from a shared touchstone that was only released…

WHEN?? FIND OUT SOON

#74 Andy Burns: Doppelgänger

OK, here’s the thing about Luis Suarez, yeah? Everyone hates him, I know, including myself. Even Liverpool fans hate him now, as after proudly supporting his racism for many years they later played against a team containing him and were rightly appalled when for some reason Suarez was a big of a complete shithouse when playing against them as he was playing for them. Also, he celebrated scoring a goal against them, which he shouldn’t have, because Liverpool FC is a pure club that is in every Godly man’s soul and it shouldn’t be possible to enjoy hurting them. I’m not a Liverpool fan, by the way. Quite the opposite. Luckily, the team I support has been beyond reproach and criticism for as far back as I can remember, so I feel safe making these jabs. But yeah, we all hate Luis Suarez. He cheats, he dives, he hates the Jackson Five. Even if he was an exemplary character, even if he planted trees on the centre circle of every football ground he played in to combat climate change, even if he carefully measured each shot he took to ensure the ball would fly out of the stadium and land in a nearby orphanage to give those poor little tykes something to play with, on a base level he just possesses an extremely unlikable face. It’s not his fault, I know (though he can now afford plastic surgery many times over), but nor is it our fault – being as we are simple humans – to want to slap that dumb face of his, or at least enjoy it experiencing some sort of severe emotional pain.

IS THIS GOING ANYWHERE?

#78 Jordana: Face the Wall

Allow me, if you will, to present a tale. A tragedy, really. One that took place in 2022. The biggest thing to take place in 2022. Yeah, I know, I previously said that some other shit was bigger, but I was just fronting, this was the tale that truly defined the year.

May I please be as bold as to take you back to last year’s Legit Bosses list, upon which Jordana appeared five times?

Pretty ballsy of me to state that Jordana not agreeing to an interview meant that she automatically hated me and everyone reading? Perhaps for other people, but I have always been confident in my writing skills and the affection that Jordana has for her fans, especially one who has been with her from the start such as me. Also, I have generally been good at judging this kind of thing in the past: I haven’t done many interviews for this blog in the past, but every person I’ve asked has agreed.

That includes you as well, reading this now, by the way. If she didn’t agree to an interview it meant she hated me, hated everyone reading that original post and also everyone who ever read this blog, and also everyone who ever read anything, on or off this blog, in the present, in the future, and in the past. Pretty hateful thing to do, I’m sure you’ll agree. But! Like I said! No worries! I knew we had each other’s backs.

but you drive me insane

The Biggest Moment of 2022

“I’m here to try and elevate everybody”

With no thought of the massive psychological damage it would cause to middle aged children and the dread it would impose on their already suffocating sense of mortality, with no consideration given to the fact that it was Christmas 2021, like, yesterday, 2022 is soon coming to an end. In previous years I have trailed the year’s Necessary Evil’s list of the year’s best music by naming the year’s best in comparatively unimportant sectors such as films and video games. 2022, however, saw an event so momentous that it renders all other debate on art or even the wider human condition comparatively meaningless, and so I owe it to my legions of fans, I owe it to the internet, I owe it to the culture itself to mention it. Not only that, but I’ll have to try and explain its importance to non wrestling fans, which might actually beyond my ability.

I’m not saying that this was the only thing that happened in 2022, just that all other stories pale somewhat in terms of significance and longterm repercussions. We all enjoyed the Conservative Party exposing the Capitalist lie that money indicates real value as some of the richest people in the country incompetently accused each other of being incompetent with such incompetence that it’s likely to freeze and/or starve a large section of their constituents. Lol! I am literally rolling on the floor laughing. I am a ROFLcopter. This isn’t new though, and of all the talk about opinion polls and potential general election losses, the ruling class fighting amongst themselves while the lower classes suffer is hardly new, will result in no revolution, and the best possible scenario in this country’s broken political system is the other party get in and basically continue the same shit. Sure, The Queen died, and in doing so revealed the longstanding lie that the UK is in some sense a developed country separated enough from its colonial history and repressed shame to be capable of rational thought. But will there really be any longterm ramifications of a gross head of a gross imperialistic state being replaced by a perhaps more gross son in a shamefully gross role? Come back to me when Charlie boy uses his accession press conference to bury the whole Royal Family and throw the whole system into doubt. In fact, have Charles Windsor come to me himself after that. I’d kiss his ugly face. Kings have press conferences, right? OK, we also had Will Smith slapping Chris Rock at the Oscars, after which Twitter had so much fun that Elon Musk decided he had to stop it. Because of… a weed meme or something…? Honestly, it’s hard to know with that nincompoop, he has the brain development of a thirteen year old Trust Fund kid, and so is extremely hard to understand as an adult. These things also happened, and I’m not ignoring them. The war in Ukraine also happened, which I am ignoring, because it’s difficult to make jokes over. Not necessarily for taste reasons – when has that ever stopped me before? – more that it’s a conflict with absolutely no good guys that any glib comment is likely to support fascism and imperialism in some form if just by association.

Hey! Speaking of ‘no good guys’! Speaking of… fascism…? No, I stretched the segue too far, should have stopped after the first one.

Go into business for yourself

19 Backxwash: I LIE HERE BURIED WITH MY RINGS AND MY DRESSES

2020 #36

Dad can you help me afford transition?

Disowned through a cell phone

The look in his face, soul displaced

He don’t know me no more…

Mom says Fenty won’t make me a woman

I beat my cheekbones

Conceal a jawline

Harder than the block stood on by a P-Stone

Now these shawties really wanna fuck me

Trust me, I don’t even feel lucky

That’s the best I’ll get..

I am just dick to these hoes

Throw out my heart tie my stomach in knots

I am just dick to these hoes

Why do you always assume I’m a top?

I am just dick to these hoes

Until the government says that I’m not

I am just dick to these hoes

I’m just a dick to these hoes

TERROR PACKETS
IT’S JUST A CLICK TO SEE MORE

22 slowthai: TYRON

2019 #76

What do you think your chances are of making it as notable musical artists? Pretty slim, right? What about if you’re not already born into financial success, if you socioeconomic status is closer to the lower 50% than the highest ten, if your Daddy doesn’t know someone else’s Daddy, if you weren’t already on the Disney cocking Channel? Honestly. next to zero. Like, right next to. Absolute zero. Sorry.

Tyron! The drool! The droo…! Eugh, too late, gross…

How about rap music though?? The supposed authentic ‘sound of the street’, where the idea of hustling your way out of economic barriers and the laughable inequalities into which you were born are valued especially high? A genre where being born into prosperity or privilege are looked upon with particular distrust? A music and a way of life that has long been appreciated as the one direction out of poverty for people desperate to find some sort of alternative? What kind of chance does that offer? I mean, seriously? It’s still pretty freaking low, right? It’s not like you’re the one person who had that idea, and many of your peers will be actually really good at what they do and still struggle to achieve the success that you so crave. It’s another longshot, sorry.

Nothing Great About the Rest of This Post

“I’ve Been Calling it ‘Depressive Suicidal Pop Music'”; Don’t Do It Neil Wanna Know What Dragon Tastes Like

You should all absolutely already know this by now, but Philadelphia’s Don’t do it, Neil was already a bit fucking special. Mabel Harper has long managed to combine a Weeknd-esque ability to document the seediness and pain behind revelry and intimacy with an exquisite understanding of how right these wrongs sometimes feel that can sometimes rival Stock, Aitken and Waterman’s grasp of sheer pop bliss. Her songs often sound like the building pleasure leading towards an orgasm while having sex with someone you really shouldn’t, but always with the underlying anxiety of the size of the mess you’ll have to clean up after your messy climax. This has been quite the opening paragraph, hasn’t it?

Worryingly, there were moments in the last couple of years involving suicidal thoughts and hospitalisations that might have led to the brilliant B/X album being her final record. However, Mabel managed to survive and process the experience, and today sees the release of her new album ‘I WANNA SEE WHAT DEATH IS LIKE‘, adding new perspectives on death, grief and mortality to an artist whose personal circumstances already made her one of the rarest perspectives in pop music. As soon as I heard of its release, I had to request an interview. Which meant only one thing.

The carrier pigeon

Yeah, I know, the handwriting’s terrible, but in my defence I asked my personal carrier pigeon (Twattori) to write it himself, so my hands are clean on this one. Unfortunately, Twattori did not survive the journey and so was unable to reach Philadelphia to deliver the message. He didn’t even survive long enough to leave the UK. In fact, he didn’t make it 50 metres from my window. Because I shot him. Seriously, did you see that handwriting? Mabel would never talk to me if she saw that. Christ, Twattori was such a prick wasn’t he?

So I just hit her up on Twitter. I was going to blow her mind with questions she’d never been asked before.

Firstly, and I’m sorry for being the 65’703rd person to ask you this question, but why ‘Don’t do it, Neil’?

In the movie Dead Poets Society, there was a kid named Neil who seemed pretty gay to me. Just a really sweet boy who discovered his love of acting only to have his passion ripped away from him by his father. Long story short, Neil kills himself during the climax of the movie, and it was really, really devastating to me. So “Don’t do it, Neil” means, “Don’t do it, Neil, don’t kill yourself.”

Continue reading ““I’ve Been Calling it ‘Depressive Suicidal Pop Music’”; Don’t Do It Neil Wanna Know What Dragon Tastes Like”

You All Knew This Was Coming [UPDATED]

This blog has never been the place for timely, contemporary and up to the minute fresh takes. In normal circumstances, if something notable happens during the year I simply put it aside in that special part of my brain that I hope to access around December, then at the end of the year I rant about it in a blog post about my 25th best album of the year, or whatever, when every other person in the world has long stopped caring about it. Or, most likely, I’ll simply forget all about it and instead go off on a tangent about rape fantasies or utter fucking nonsense. It was all we wanted. All we needed. We were happy.

Well, COVID-19 got me doing all sorts of crazy shit that I’ve never done before- last Tuesday I ate an unsalted pistachio*- so I guess I may as well add to the insanity by commenting on something that only just happened this last week. Partly this is because a particularly obnoxious crow outside my window has woken me up at two thirty in the morning, like I’m a 15th century wheelwright working in the tower of his master’s monastery or some shit, but partly because Lana Del Rey’s 21st May Instagram post really got under my skin. Yeah, mostly the former. Sniff, sniff, what’s that smell? Oh yeah! Precious motherfucking content!!

Continue reading “You All Knew This Was Coming [UPDATED]”