Lana Del Rey hasn’t even got her debut LP out and yet, somehow, the backlash has already begun! We say ‘somehow’; we know exactly why it has started – she makes really awful music and she’s obviously getting very famous because she’s easy on the eye.
Naturally, that’s not a new criticism against pop-music, but who cares? If Lana Del Rey can rely on the same tired cliches of the alt.pop of yore, then we can certainly chide it for the same old boring reasons.
And oddly, we’re not the only ones who think that Del Rey has a whiff of Emperor’s New Clothes about her. The Also Makes Lousy Music actress, Juliette Lewis, has criticised Lana Del Rey’s performance on Saturday Night Live.
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Lana Del Rey is the latest hot young thing that has a myriad of jaded twentysomethings tying their genitals in knots! She writes her own songs AND is kinda good looking! What a treat! What an unusual treat!
Yep, pop music totally doesn’t have a habit of giving attractive people record deals, despite the negligible talent and persistent dullditude.
But that won’t stop the pouting freight train that is Lana Del Rey! She’s going to become gigantically famous whether she actually gets around to writing a song or not! It’s almost admirable really. The perfect anti-pop star. The Lady GaGa for the supplement reader. AND SHE HAS A NEW VIDEO OUT AND WE’VE WORKED OUT WHAT IT IS ALREADY! Watch it over the jump and we promise to irritate you.
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Ever get the impression that we’re in the worst period of music in mankind’s history? It’s all beige schmindie, stadium turdrock, predictable dubstep and, worse still, maudlin drip-hop like James Blake and the latest sweetheart, Lana Del Rey.
In the case of the latter, everyone is busy pretending that they like her music for what it is (they say ‘beautiful’, we say ‘Sneaker Pimps b-side’) when really, they just like jerking off over pictures of her.
And her next single, Born 2 Die, will have the masturbators in a frenzy when they hear Lana sing the line “let me fuck you hard”. And yes, you can hear it over the jump and start fiddling in your trousers LIKE NOW.
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Have you heard the first 10 seconds of Lana Del Rey’s ‘Video Games’? Well done, you’ve lasted twice the length of most people who fell asleep, face first into their laps because she’s gone and created the most tedious record in history.
Of course, those hipster swine who pretend they don’t like watching her on YouTube because ‘she’s well fit’ will watch it to the end over and over. Not with the sound off. There’s no need. Her music is barely able to make the most rudimentary noise as it is. It’s like watching TV static. With a great rack.
Naturally, her looks have become something of a talking point. She thinks that its cruel that we pick holes in her face (especially those lips that resemble someone having an allergic reaction to nuts while ingesting two whole lilos). So what’s the beef?
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Five teenage boys are standing in a circle, arms locked around each others shoulders but this is no group hug.
They are all urinating into the centre.
They are ten metres away from the toilets.
Welcome to Leeds.
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Argghhh! Panic! The festival industry is dying! Run for the hills (well, the cities)! So, then Big Chill- what are you about? Should we be impressed or not?
You’re run by Festival Republic who really aren’t the leftwing revolutionary group that your name would like us to infer, but your line-up isn’t exactly the warmed up Radio 1 tedium soup of V.
If our weekend was anything to go by, it’s where the kind of punters who used to frequent Glastonbury now like to er.. chill.
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It’s ironic that the golden rule of capitalism is at work in something as historically left-of-centre as festivals. This summer the power of the market is separating the wheat from the chaff in festival-land.
The beauty of it is, that whilst money may be able to book a big headliner, it requires imagination to create a festival that fills a gap in the market. Sure, the results might not always be nice (the unwelcome rumours that the marvellous Truck Festival may be bust for instance) but it’s sure to guarantee that no-one’s complacent.
Camp Bestival was started as a more family-friendly version of Bestival. As the popularity of taking kids to festivals has grown, so has this (now medium sized) festival. The Sunday Best lot know their audience and they have enough confidence in their own instincts that they don’t feel the need to schedule the acts in order of record sales. An obvious example is the headliner on Friday night. Other festivals might relegate Blondie to a tent, and stick the flavour of the year on the main stage, but Sunday Best know their audience. Obvious really since the man in charge is a DJ (Rob Da Bank) and therefore has an intuitive grasp of what the next tune should be.
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Ah, festivals. Possibly the best thing about living in Britain is that because the weather is so dreary most of the year we party like idiots as soon as the sun comes out.
We used to have to either choose between about four festivals or go to Ibiza to combine hedonism and music. Now we are as spoilt for choice as a footballer in a lapdancing club.
So where are you going? There are small ones, big ones, dance ones, rock ones, ones for has-beens, ones for soon-to-bes. There are stupid amounts to choose from, but here are the ones that we would suggest…
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