The annual circle-jerking of overrated, but cosy, inoffensive British acts on major labels are all getting a trophy and a party bag. The Wanker Olympics Category Thing – or the BRIT Award Nominations as they’re more commonly known – have been announced, much to the chagrin of anyone with the remotest taste in music.
Sub-Jack-Johnson-and-no-really-there-are-worse-people-than-Jack-Johnson ginger Ed Sheeran has been nominated for 4 awards; if you don’t know Sheeran, he makes sickly, boring ballads for drunk, fat people to sing at 3am outside clubs, and all of his fans are terrible. It’s even worse when he tries rapping.
James Blake was nominated for British Male Solo Artist along with Noel Gallagher, Professor Green and others, which is insulting, because James Blake is genuinely talented [if you like drip-hop that has all the verve and guile of a life-support machine slowly dying itself, that is – Ed].
Meanwhile, The Wanted’s “Glad You Came”, a song about “doing your bit”, foreplay-wise, is considered amongst the best songs that came out of Britain last year, along with Pixie Lott’s “All About Tonight” and Jessie J’s “Price Tag (ft. B.O.B.)”. Perhaps they are some of the best songs by UK artists in 2011, if you’ve only NOW! compilations in your CD collection and you’re a complete buffoon.
Despair.
In the Album of the Year stakes, Adele, a woman who exists solely for the benefit of people who’ve never actually heard a soul singer before, is up against Beaker from The Muppets, Coldplay, Florence & The Machine (Really? Did her album sell well? The woman sings like she’s drowning) and PJ Harvey, who won the Mercury Music Prize, where actual people who’ve listened to music decide on things.
Maroon 5 look like a sure-shot for International Group, which is depressing beyond words, while Blur are being praised for their Outstanding Contribution to Music.
There are more categories but frankly, this is all way, way too much.
The idea of being in the same country as Bruno Mars, for example, even if it’s just for a few nights while he’s polishing his International Male Solo Award, is enough to turn any reasonable human being who enjoys things like an interesting chord structure or clever lyricism into a pitchfork wielding (clever, right?), angry lunatic.
Go and illegally download some albums or something, you dicks.