Imagine being Gwyneth Paltrow. Awful isn’t it? All that self-serving hippie-dippy nonsense floating around your head telling you how wonderfully wonderful you are. All the while, Chris Martin gazes at you lovingly like a kindly priest longing after a crumpet.

BLECCH.

Never mind that though because we’re interested in pain! Paltrow’s pain specifically! So join us now in a game of WHO CHEATED ON GWYNETH PALTROW AND CAN YOU BLAME THEM?

During a recent interview (who honestly cares who with), Gwyneth decided to open up about her love life, and dropped a tidbit for everyone to get vaguely excited about.

She said:

“I had a boyfriend who used to cheat on me all the time.”

OOOOH! Cheating! We love cheating! Have you seen Cheaters? Have you seen the one where presenter Joey Greco gets stabbed? It’s brilliant.

Anyway, Gwyn continued:

“I was quite naive. I knew on a cellular level, but I bought his story.”

A cellular level. Got it. She wasn’t finished though. She continued, talking about cheating in general:

“I have friends who I love and admire who have had an affair. When I was younger, I would have said he’s a terrible person or she’s a terrible person. But who made these laws?”

Yeah, whatever. We don’t care about your views on cheating! We want to know who kept having it off with other people behind your back!

Of course, it can’t be Chris Martin because he’s not an ex (he’s a current, unless we’ve missed a gigantic story/opportunity to really mock someone’s pain). And so, we look to people she’s stepped out with.

Hello Ben Affleck, Luke Wilson and Brad Pitt. We’re looking dead-on at you and deciding which one we trust the least. Or indeed, deciding which one of you we assume couldn’t bear to listen to Gwyneth Paltrow’s meek sex-noises and such.

You know what it’s like. You’re minding your own business, doing absolutely nothing wrong and then, KAPOW! Some awful Coldplay song barges into your subconscious while being used as an aspirational bit on some dreary television show.

It simply isn’t fair.

However, thanks to a singing intruder (there clearly should be more ‘singing intruders’… it needs to be a ‘thing’), Chris Martin now knows exactly what it is like for the rest of us poor, innocent, ear-having plebians.

According to various reports, the Coldplay frontweapon revealed how he had to chuck an intruder out of the garden of his family home that he shares with Gwyneth ‘oh jeez, she’s started singing too’ Paltrow.

This warbling trespasser managed to get into Martin’s garden and started singing Coldplay tracks to his pals who were stood outside the premises.

Martin:

“I had a guy the other day who climbed over the gate of our house and started singing Coldplay songs to his friends on the street.”

He added, showing what a dreadful control-freak bore he is:

“Listen, you’re just not doing that right.”

“He politely left. It was bordering on intrusion. Still, it’s nice that people like the songs.”

A proper celebrity would have attacked them with a shovel handle or sent armed guards to get the stun-guns out, but no, not beige Chris Martin. It’s all Polite This and Excuse Me That.

What a grating loser.

Zane Lowe is an unbearably smug son of a turd and if you disagree with that statement then you’ll probably disagree with most of this article. Ever since the days when he was sitting on a badly green-screened couch, chumming up to the Foo Fighters, Lowe has maintained the air of a man whose every musical opinion is based not on a love of music, but on a love of his own opinions on music.

The Smug-Meister-General of BBC Radio 1′s musical output has a long-running tradition of forcing his opinions down the throats of his listeners by choosing a series of “Masterpiece” albums to play, in their entirety, during his show. Thankfully this only happens once a year.

However, things are different this time.

If Zane Lowe thinks that he can force his idea of what makes a musical classic down our throats then we’re going to do the same thing to our readers, hopefully making you realise that this kind of behaviour isn’t okay. We might strap you all down and force the sounds of The Sugababes’ classic “Hole In The Head” into you, or we might just leave a link and some impassioned words from our writers.

We’ll see how we feel.

For those of you who still care about what the people who employ Chris Moyles think, the Radio 1 press person wrote these words to accompany the email:

Each show will include interviews with the artists and others involved in the making of the album, giving a fascinating insight into the stories behind the songs. Zane also takes a look at how each album since its release has influenced other artists with contributors including Coldplay’s Chris Martin, Blink 182 and Arctic Monkeys’ Alex Turner.

Chris Martin?! BLINK 182?! ALEX TURNER?! Why, Radio 1, with these leviathans of popular music, you are truly spoiling us but what does the Git-In-Chief have to say about his little collection?

“It gets harder every year to pick them, but this year’s four albums each hold a special place in the record collections of many, whilst at the at the same time influencing on many of today’s most successful and brilliant artists.”

It gets harder because you’re trying so hard to look like you know music Zane. The identity of the albums that Lowe has chosen (by committee) isn’t a secret but we genuinely couldn’t care less what they are so you’ll have to look elsewhere for them. Sorry chumps.

Anyway, taking a leaf out of Lowe’s Big Book of Self-Importance, we’ve come up with a list of our ‘masterpiece’ albums. No committee, no real thought. Everybody in the hecklerspray bedsit got the chance to pick one. It’s only fair.

Dare – The Human League

Mof Gimmers: Synthpop was always a ludicrous (gloriously so) genre, which showcased a retrofuturism hatched up in bedsits and motorway cafes by young men with dreadful haircuts and worse clothes. Then, Phil Oakey & Co. realised that they were sitting on something that was plain futuristic and went about making one of the finest, weirdest pop albums ever made. While ‘Don’t You Want Me’ is standard wedding fodder, it’s still a bona fide masterpiece. Backed by the catchier-than-mumps ‘Love Action’, the fierce ‘Sound Of The Crowd’ and the thunderous ‘Do Or Die’, ‘Dare’ is just about the most perfect pop-art LP ever made.

Listen to it on Spotify.

Check Your Head – Beastie Boys

Si Sharp: ‘Paul’s Boutique’ may have seen them at their lyrical peak, but 1992′s Check Your Head is the grooviest hip-hop album of all time.

Listen to it on Spotify.

Lungs – Florence & The Machine

Joanna Bolouri: Original, beautiful, quirky and downright genius. An album that could bring back longing and joy to an otherwise dead heart.

Listen to it on Spotify.

Beat Me – Electric Eel Shock

Kris Silver: An album that perfectly sums up this band of Japanese outsiders, fusing pop, punk, metal and comedy to make a collection of riotous, yet still catchy, and often funny songs about everything from politics to fishing.

Listen to it on Spotify.

We Are The Pipettes – The Pipettes

Robin Darke: Failing to invigorate the market with a reinvention of the traditional 60s girl group, this album breathes a modern interpretation into a staple of Motown history; catchy, feminism-infused and highly underrated. Get them before they turn eurodance and shi…oh.

Listen to it on Spotify.

Mr Beast – Mogwai

Michael Park: Mogwai have been producing exceptional album after exceptional album right back to 1997′s ‘Young Team’ but this attempt from 2006 is one of their most accessible. Rolling crescendoes and haunting lulls, what’s not to like?

Listen to it on Spotify.

Actually – The Pet Shop Boys

Sophie Hall: It’s the one with ‘What Have I Done to Deserve This?’ on it – a song which would upgrade ‘Disappointing second Hear’say Album’ to ‘Best contribution to sound in the universe’ in a mere moment.

Listen to it on Spotify.

Hootenanny – The Replacements

Lauren Mullineaux: It might not be their finest album, but it captures a band on the brink of unappreciated greatness and showed the self-deprecating maturity of Westerberg’s lyrics.  Besides the man is a genius.

Listen to it on Spotify.

Second Toughest In The Infants – Underworld

Matthew Laidlow: Comprising multiple styles from lounge to drum & bass, progressive electro to full-on acid, Second Toughest In The Infants is an album that sounds as fresh today as when it first came out, especially when coupled with the rambling, confusing lyrics of Karl Hyde.

Listen to it on Spotify.

Get them all on one, big Spotify playlist so that you can impress people at parties.

So there you have it, readers. Nine classic albums from the furthest reaches of musical taste (and decency), all delivered to you without the need for a three hour retrospective starring Chris Martin and Alex Turner.

You might not like all of the albums on our list but do feel free to tell us your ‘masterpiece’ albums in the comments. Or slag off Zane Lowe. It’s really up to you.

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You’ve heard Coldplay right? Yeah, that’s the guys that make tepid, stadium-sized faeces, swarmed upon by tasteless flies who like vague lyrics that kinda sound aspirational or touching, but best not to dwell on it because that’s not why one goes to a Coldplay gig.

Basically, it’s music for the bone idle.

Disagree? Well, hear this, chumps: Even Chris Martin’s own children – those little oiks who he loves unreservedly and will support for the rest of their lives – don’t even like Coldplay. And Chris Martin knows that to try and force them would be folly.

Chris, who is of course married to the similarly musically-talentless-but-still-sings-for-money-anyway Gwyneth Paltrow, says that he doesn’t want to force his children to like Coldplay.

Fair deal really seeing as he foisted terrible names on them – Apple and Moses.

Martin told the USA Today newspaper:

“My children made me focused on not wasting time on anything I don’t think is worth wasting time on.

“So that’s affected my editing process. You don’t want to spend months and months doing something and have it turn out terrible. You want your kids to be proud, basically. So it gives you extra drive.”

Alas, if this is the case, then we have to equate Martin’s love for his children with his musical output. If they’re driving him to become better, then it’s only fair that the quality of the music is in direct proportion to how much he loves Moses and Apple.

Have you heard the newest Coldplay material?

Call the adoption agency.

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Look at the picture. Really look at it, drink it in. Go on, keep looking.

Look at Bono singing his heart out, look at Chris Martin putting effort into his performance. Jesus, look at Gary Barlow, he’s brought along some water. And who’s that on the right? It’s Brandon Flowers. He’s a Mormon or something. Look at him. Keep looking at him. Now look at all of them. Keep looking. It’s amazing. Now look away. Now look back. Now away. And back. Away. Back. Away. Back. Away. Back. Away. Away. Ha! Gotcha!

Now be sick.

Of course, after looking at the picture, you need to start questioning what it’s all about. Who could coordinate such a phenomenal collaboration? And, more the point, why? What’s wrong with them? Are they Osama Bin Laden?

Now, we’re not in the habit of sneering at things, but Jesus Christ, look at them! Four awful, awful human beings. We’re one Sting away from staring directly into the eyes of Satan. With that in mind, we decided to play a game we’ve christened ‘The One Bullet Conundrum’. Which of these guys would get it?

Chris Martin

Chris’ number one problem is that he’s a really big Coldplay fan. He loves them, he loves their music, at their gigs he’s always jumping up and down at the front, singing along with all the words. He also dresses like a total cock. The only thing saving Chris from a certain bullet is that there’s someone on stage who’s even more self-important and impossible to like. Chris, you got lucky this time.

Gary Barlow

Gary, for all his faults, seems alright. He’s a bit like an uncle who pops around over Christmas, tells you his boring stories, cracks a stupid joke about stuffing, and then leaves. The minute he disappears from your house, you forget him forever. He’s like a fart that doesn’t smell. An anodyne glass of water of a man, the bullet would probably miss him, because it’s like he’s not really there.

Brandon Flowers

Lots of people absolutely adore The Killers. These are the same people who think that Coldplay are magnificent, that U2 are GODS, and that Keane are this close to making their Joshua Tree. You know them, you might even be friends with them. But you’re not really friends with them are you? Secretly, you hate them, with their never-changing haircuts, and flat-pack girlfriends. They own a Faithless CD, for Christ’s sake. But, lucky for Brandon, this bullet doesn’t have his name on it…

Bono

… and that’s because Bono is there. Big bloody Bono, with his stupid whispering singing voice, and his breakfasts with people who are far more important than him. Bloody Bono. In fairness, the bullet never had a choice.

This was a guest blog by Josh Burt of Interestment. Hooray for bloody him, we say.

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Some advance warning: Coldplay, the dreariest band in the entire world, might be about to get considerably drearier.

And it’s all Gwyneth Paltrow‘s fault. Tucked away at the bottom of a New York Daily News article about how many molecules of mashed potato she briefly considered touching with her tongue yesterday – or whatever – came the news that Gwyneth Paltrow’s marriage to Chris Martin is ‘on a break’ and that she’s spending a lot of time with an American real estate billionaire named Jeff Soffer.

Great. Maybe Gwyneth Paltrow will end up divorcing Chris Martin and shack up with this Jeff Soffer chap instead. Let’s hope so because, judging by all the insipid cock she’s inspired her husband to write over the years, it’d mean that Gwyneth Paltrow would the impetus for some of the most cluelessly vapid architectural designs ever seen by mankid. Or a swimming pool shaped like a concerned face, at the very least.

It’s no secret that Gwyneth Paltrow and Madonna are the best of friends. It’s adorable. They’re both like two little lambs frolicking together in a field. Or one whiny piss-thing lamb that looks a bit malnourished and another lamb in a horrible leotard who actually hasn’t been a lamb for about 30 years but still dresses like one. This analogy’s going nowhere, sorry.

Anyway, Gwyneth Paltrow and Madonna have a freakish amount in common. They both give their kids crappy names. They both look like they live on one grain of rock-hard rice a week. They both think they can do British accents. They both do an inordinate amount of whining. They’re both a bit spiritually batshit. And both of them moved to London to be with their overrated British cultural icon husbands.

Or at least they were. Madonna, of course, divorced her cockney husband Guy Ritchie recently so that she could dedicate her life to thrusting her groin towards baseball players while crying in full view of thousands of strangers. And, since Gwyneth Paltrow is happily married to Beaker from Coldplay, at least they’re different in that sense.

For now, at least. Because it turns out that Gwyneth Paltrow has been spending an awful lot of time around mild-mannered billionaire Jeff Soffer, to the extent that she’s apparently now telling her friends that her marriage is all but over. The New York Daily News reports:

Feeding speculation that Paltrow and Martin are ready to split, Paltrow has been staying at Soffer’s Indian Creek Island mansion and spent Thanksgiving with him, sources said… “Gwyneth has confided to friends she and Chris are taking a break,” a source claimed. “Jeff is crazy about her.”

How true any of this is, we just don’t know. But it does seem perfectly feasible that, given the choice between a billionaire or a funny-haired Bono wannabe whose greatest contribution to mankind will be bellowing the word ‘yellow’ over and over again in the style of an elk being anally brutalised with a spiked club, Gwyneth Paltrow would possibly pick the former.

So it looks like we’ll have to keep Gwyneth Paltrow and Chris Martin’s marriage under tight watch for the next couple of months. A divorce wouldn’t surprise us because, as history has shown, if either Madonna or Gwyneth Paltrow do something, the other is never far behind.

Well, most of the time, anyway – Gwyneth Paltrow occasionally makes films that aren’t complete monkeybum every now and again. Madonna’s never really seemed to pick up on that.

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Say what you want about Coldplay frontman Chris Martin. While the majority of you may say “total twat” he does have one thing over a lot of people.

It’s not a scrawny wife or badly-named children – there are plenty of people like that across the country. Instead it’s a shed full of money that he’s made via creating music that wants to make you open the curtains and screaming out loud” hello world, how ya doing?” .

He may need a bigger shed to stash his money in as Coldplay have only gone and sold a bucketful of copies of their new album Viva La Veda. Maybe people have stopped downloading illegally, or the local Chinese man didn’t have any dodgy copies ready when we last saw him in the pub.

To flog records, you need to promote it. Chris Martin and the drummer stopped by to the Radio 4 show Front Row to do this. Only it didn’t go that smoothly.

It has to be said, doing endless interviews can get slightly boring and repetitive. In order to stop doing the same thing again and again, interview discs are knocked up, featuring pre-recorded questions and answers.

These are then shipped off to crap local radio DJs, who then lie and pretend they were graced by someone more famous then the person who just got kicked out of Big Brother.

But for high profile publicity jaunts, it needs to be done live, or if time isn’t on your side, pre-recorded. This happened with the Front Row program. Now, let’s get one thing clear. At Radio 4, they don’t make jokes about poo like hecklerspray does.

The station is pretty high brow and won’t ask questions like: “Do you marmie?” , “When did you last vomit up your insides?”, or “What do you want written on your gravestone“.

No, Radio 4 are much more mature then hecklerspray and it probably explains why we never got an interview slot with them.

Coldplay’s new album is called Viva La Veda and kind of conjures up images of war, fighting and other military stuff. Not exactly fun and thrilling. If you notice, the artwork for the album also reflects this. So, it would seem fairly obvious that clever journalistic folk may pick up on this and ask questions? To us, yes but to Chris Martin, no.

According to the BBC :

“Presenter Wilson questioned whether the new album – full title, Viva La Vida Or Death And All His Friends – was a morbid reflection of the band’s lyrical obsession with death.”

Not really a hard question to answer, but like a timid school boy, Martin asked to be excused because “he wasn’t enjoying” himself and not because he was bursting for a piss. Poor Chris, it must be so different from Jo Whiley on Radio 1 not kissing your arse and worshiping at your eco-friendly carbon neutral feet.

Maybe Radio 4 should have been a bit more like Radio 1 and presented questions to him in text form: “Y ave u kaled ur nu album Viva La Veda? I tink ur h0t Criz”. Lessons learnt for next time.

While Coldplay can’t escape the death references on their album, they should have probably commissioned artwork that didn’t tie into this concept. Maybe a lady with her legs spread open. Not only is it “controversial” but it may prove they have some balls [Coldplay not the lady].

To hear Chris Martin being a total twat, follow the link!

Read More:

Martin Walks Out Of BBC Interview – BBC

We here at hecklerspray have a dream, and that dream includes two powerful fists, and shoes with spikes on the top & springs on the bottom. It's for jumping and jabbing. We're tough now, you see, and once we prove our manhood via physical combat in malls with random passer-bys, the Drudge Report might take us back.

It's just, It hasn't even called, you know?

Another person who's recently endured physical combat in the name of love, apparently, is Chris Martin. Gwyneth Paltrow just barely stayed in a hospital. When she was released a Papo said the wrong thing at the wrong time – then it was on!

There's even video…

When last we saw Gwyneth Paltrow she was busting dope rhymes along with Jay-Z. When last we saw Chris Martin he was still saying all things everywhere distinctly had a yellow hue to them. But since all that, Gwyneth got rushed to a hospital slumped over in a wheelchair.

Well, on release the two walked to their car, and a few paparazzi were out there trying to make a buck. One of them said to Martin as he passed:

"Congratulations Chris."

To which Martin lost it. He responded with a tackle, a severe finger pointing and a camera semi-steal. Oh, and these words:

"Have some fucking respect!"

The whole thing's on video – we've got a link to where you can see it. Now if it was our wife getting harassed while walking sick out of a hospital we would have handled things differently. For instance, maybe we'd have helicoptered home from the hospital's roof, or maybe we would have jumped directly into our convertible from our third floor hopital room window. Also we could've cloned ourselves and sent out several doubles ahead to lure away the papos.

See? These are all valid peace-riddled options.

We're keeping the spike-shoes though. Just in case.

Read More:

Chris Martin's Pap Attack – Female First