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].
It appears as if 23-year-old, London born singer Adele has the Midas touch at the moment. Her album has been at number one for so long that it saw off both the end of the world and Cheryl Cole’s US X-Factor career. She’s performed at the Brits to universal acclaim and she’s captured the hearts and minds of both sides of the Atlantic.
But turning everything you touch to gold isn’t so great when the Tax man comes knocking it seems.
Even though it’s only February, we’ve already been treated to a couple of music awards. Within the space of forty eight hours, we’d seen our American chums dish out awards at The Grammys and back in more homely surrounds, London’s O2 arena was used to host The Brit Awards.
Asides from different hosts and performances, both ceremonies were roughly the same. E.g. winners, performers and happy cocaine dealers.
Nobody these days dares promote experimental sounds and the trophies picked up are usually by the same acts that’ll only use them as doorsteps. What we need is something where bands are rewarded based on the merit of their talents, not sales.
So did you watch the Brit Awards the other night? No? Whatever caused you to either watch repeats of The Simpsons on Sky or David Beckham run around in some stripy shorts?
What were you thinking? After all, this is the Brits! An awards ceremony which has given highlights such as Jarvis Cocker making Michael Jackson’s Earth Song performance bearable and John Prescott being covered in cold water. So what mental antics could we expect this year? Drunken stage invasions and musicians off their tits on cocaine? No, we had to settle with Liam Gallagher and Peter Kay having a schoolyard war of words.
Normally, we wouldn’t care, but it was on the Brits!
There are loads of reasons to be proud of being British. An army of lads taking over an Eastern European capital on a stag do; lazy racism perpetuated through newspapers; the BNP.
The one thing that really does make us bloody brilliant is music.
Popstars eh, aren’t they just wonderful? With all their singing and dancing and sitting on tour-coaches and tolerating interviews with Jonathan Ross. Plus the other stuff they, um, probably do. The ultra rich need a night of free alcohol and to celebrate each other’s wonderfulness, before the inevitable decline towards cruise ships and the Line Up round on Buzzcocks. And so, the Brits. The painful pseudo-live event that reminds everyone involved just how fleeting fame is. JLS will be watching the 2012 Brits on their sofa at home, bitterly Tweeting about Geri Halliwell.
The Brit awards exist to recognise excellence in British music. Or at least it usually does – last night it couldn’t be bothered and just gave a load of prizes to Duffy instead.
That’s right. Duffy. Duffy who your mum likes. Duffy who sings like a baby goat stuck in a cattle grid. Duffy who looks like she’d burst into tears if you showed her a sad kitten. Duffy won three Brit awards last night, roughly six more than she deserves. But still, it’s not like Iron Maiden won anything, is it?
What? Iron Maiden did win something? God. We’re doomed.
Tonight, ITV wipes its entire schedule of supposed entertainment to bring us the Brit Awards 2009.
It may not have happened yet, but we can’t see it being edgy, cool or vaguely risky. The show goes out at 8pm, leaving today’s young pop stars with an entire hour to swear before the watershed kicks in.
Just over a week ago, we watched the Grammys which quite frankly overshadowed the entire Brits ceremony. Not only did the Grammys have a million categories where nearly everyone can win, but we don’t expect there to be any pre-show scraps like the alleged one between Rihanna and Chris Brown. Unless someone attacks Chris Martin with a pack of streaky bacon.
We’d always figured that Ozzy Osbourne was pretty libel-proof, because whatever you accuse him of, chances are he’s already done it.
Snorting a line of ants? Check. Chewing the heads off animals? Check. Urinating on the Alamo? Check. Getting hammered and trying to murder his wife? Check. Falling over a couple of times before the Brit Awards earlier this year? No way! Ugh! You sick bastard! Suggest that and Ozzy Osbourne will sue your tits off.
And win, too – Ozzy Osbourne has won undisclosed damages from the Daily Star after it claimed that Ozzy had a health scare right before the Brit Awards that almost saw him get withdrawn from the show. Turns out, though, that he was such a shaky andincoherent mess during the Brit Awards because he’s Ozzy Osbourne. Sheesh.
The Osbournes hosted the Brit awards last night, so the show promised to be jam-packed with enough controversy to turn your granny blue.
Is that what happened, though? No – thanks to the Brits’ stringent ‘don’t let Ozzy Osbourne say more than three words in a row’ policy, the only vaguely controversial thing the Osbournes brought to the Brit awards was the way that Sharon Osbourne’s face looked as if it had been attacked by jellyfish in her sleep.
Oh, and Leona Lewis didn’t win any of the four Brit awards she was nominated for. That’s sort of controversial, isn’t it? Anyone?
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.
It appears as if 23-year-old, London born singer Adele has the Midas touch at the moment. Her album has been at number one for so long that it saw off both the end of the world and Cheryl Cole’s US X-Factor career. She’s performed at the Brits to universal acclaim and she’s captured the hearts and minds of both sides of the Atlantic.
