Well it’s been a high profile week for music what will all the sports happening and that. If you didn’t watch the kitten walk on the pitch in the football or MIA flip the proverbial bird in the Super Bowl then it really doesn’t matter because The Metro covers just about all of it in a much more elaborate and unnecessary way than the above sentence makes you think it might be worth.
The kitten doesn’t have a music video out, but we’re positive you can watch it singing on YouTube or, you can see it in your mind’s eye on ketamine; whatever takes your fancy really.
MIA on the other hand does have a video response out in antithesis to the popular Alexandra Burke song ‘Bad Boys’, which is nice for her. Shall we watch some new releases then?
Read More >>>
Pop promos! More of them! There’s always new music being made. This is, of course, a good thing. It’s also a really, truly awful thing. Some records come out and you just think ‘why did you bother?’
Fame and fortune await the few, for the majority will forever be destined to be loved by the faithful dozen who, regrettably for the bands concerned, are not good looking enough to warrant regular sex.
And so, here’s the new releases.
Read More >>>
We’d love to tell you about the tragic things that have been happening this week, but we can’t get on Wikipedia because of some protest for some dumb law the stupid Americans are trying to enforce. We’d love to tell you what that law is, but you know we aren’t really all that knowledgeable about anything without the use of facts made up by people like you.
We do love it when the world wide web gets it’s knickers in a twist though and it seems like everyone is so we’re here to join in with our eloquently put words; FREE SPEECH IS WELL COOL.
In a tone more akin to what you’re used to seeing here we will now proceed to inform you about the abysmal endorsement of capitalism by Alex “absolute git hamper” James. You might recognise him as the bassist from Blur, or much more likely is that you’ve seen his name on a bag of pre-grated cheese in Asda. It all went downhill when they started slicing bread if you ask us. The once beacon of foppish country cool now hangs around with fellow swan-munchers Cameron and Clarkson sipping freshly juiced faecal matter from paper cups which they then use to muddy our big rotten society so it’s no surprise then to learn that he writes for The Sun now, obviously. Today he announced that he bums McDonalds—of course he calls it Maccy D’s—and Greggs, and KFC, and factory farming, and animal incest, and free love. Okay well maybe not the last one; nobody’s that sick.
Read More >>>
Christ, we’re starting this year as we mean to go on, which is by turning up very late, slightly drunk, and not really having anything to say. So it’s a lot like last year really, except people might be taking things more seriously because we could all be about to die if the Mayans have anything to do with anything.
Frankly after all this hype we’re pulling for them. You can’t have an evolved civilisation and not be right about the end of the world, things just don’t work like that.
Characteristically we’re apologising for not doing anything for a whole 12 days, but you know we did spend £6.50 on one whisky and we watched New Girl so the recovery period was catastrophic if we’re actually over it yet (we’re not). But don’t worry your revitalised little hearts because nobody has done any music videos. Well some people did, but they’re just rude. Clearly anyone who is anyone is sitting at home and tweeting their well wishes to Beyoncé for having a child and then calling it Blue Ivy not Ivy Blue—a controversial move by the woman who thought a man who picked the last letter of the alphabet for a name was daddy material.
Read More >>>
The blaring sound of happiness triumphing is overpowering these days, suppose it must be some sort of seasonal holiday that once again we have failed to understand, yet attempt to embrace by eating chocolates out of crassly wrapped boxes.
What do you guys get from this? All we get is fat which in turn makes us drink more which in turn makes us slip ever more down the spiral and so on and so forth into a new year—don’t even get us started on that ozone layer depleting holiday.
In a wildly ludicrous attempt to garner the attention and affection of you, the demanding public, we will be providing you with some sort of visual and audible spirit; we do also need to watch something fuzzy after having our insides bored out of breathing by the preciously twee trailer for The Hobbit. So here in all their glory are some music video delights showing us the true spirit of Christmas is a horrendous cover that won’t do anything for falling sales or loss of fame.
Read More >>>
As it gets closer and closer to the date of doom when we have to write either a boringly predictable end of year music video list or put together a collection of hideously glittery over the top festive themed videos that look like they were all filmed in the Strictly Come Dancing: It Takes Two studio the more often we start our day by exclaiming, “Christ,” which is, if you think about it, actually rather fitting.
After a hecklerspray piss-up last week in the home of no cash-machines and topless fighting children, or Newcastle if you will, we forgot all about the wonderful world of the music video and so this is being brought to you from haggard hands.
Not just any haggard hands though, festive haggard hands which we can surely all appreciate as we scoff brandy soaked cakes in our gasping mouths—don’t you just love Christmas?
Read More >>>
This column is coming to you now because it’s Christmas and that’s a time of giving and moral empathy and we couldn’t not share our joyous life with you. None of these videos are real, we hope you realise that, they are mere clip shows of the fragments of our fabulously wealthy lives where nobody works and everybody has sexual encounters which disfigure their daily routine—which is exactly why Noel Gallagher is being streamed directly into your pelvis.
Except it’s not Christmas is it? It’s December effing the second! Which means there are many doors on your Lego Star Wars advent calendar to be opened before you get a lump of coal and many tireless hours of hearing ‘Fairytale of New York’, tediously throwing up mulled wine before your family sits around a cheap table not talking about how Daniel is on anti-psychotics and mummy cries herself to sleep at night after eating three bars of Galaxy from her secret chocolate box under the bed.
No, there won’t be any Christmas songs here – not until December 24th when it’s okay to just post clips of Tim Allen.
Read More >>>
Phones are still being hacked, seriously? That’s so twenty minutes ago. Hasn’t this Steve Coogan guy and some woman called Sienna Miller had their fifteen minutes? Someone told us that’s all we’re allowed and we intend to use ours for more than pissing and moaning.
We intend to use ours to inflict unflinching, often nauseating, assessments of society on you in the hope that one day we can better ourselves.
A woman who has made the world want to better themselves by being a complete and utter waste of living tissue is Florence, of the Machine fame.
Read More >>>
