If I wasn’t forced to listen to the radio at work, most of the shite music of this year would have blissfully passed me by. I could have stayed in my cocoon of Ready for the World, Chaka Khan, The Police and Prince and never had my ears assaulted by the horrors of pop music.
Radio is just a vortex of tacky, salty balls that will make you go crazy. Here are some of the ‘artists’ that have driven me to the brink this year:
So, I don’t know if you heard, but this chick kissed a girl and apparently, she liked it. So much so that she wrote this piece of shit song that made you want to wipe out womankind, just so she couldn’t make out with anyone else and write a follow up. I swear, if I hear this song one more time, I am not responsible for my actions.
When you have to constantly proclaim that you are a ‘rock star’ with your ‘rock moves’, you just come off as the sad kid in class who desperately wanted to run with the cool crowd, which is exactly what you are. In this extremely irritating mess of a song you say, many times that you want to start a fight. Well, are you looking for an opponent? Because I will take you down, bitch. Hey Pink, I heard you’re really big in Australia. Maybe you should move there. Forever. Just a thought.
Every tacky, watered down rock group
Too many to mention here, but specifically, Nickleback and that dude who won American Idol with your soppy rocky love songs – enough already! Rock music has died a sad, sad death.
It has perplexed me all year how this fool has somehow become number one on every list imaginable. Seriously, can someone put together a very comprehensive list detailing a) how this happened, b) why I should give a shit and c) how we can make it stop.
Or Sasha Fierce, or whatever the hell she wants to call herself these days. The year stayed quite blissfully Beyonce-free for the most part, but we should have known she was busy concocting new ways to annoy us. And she came a-cropper with ‘Single Ladies’ which has spawned a thousand of these, which is enough to drive anyone to the edge.
Apparently, the medication she’s on has made her develop a terrible stutter. Womanwomawomawomanizerwowomanizerwowomanizerwowowomanizer. Whew. That is one nasty ass side effect.
…………………..and that about covers that one.
She wanted us to ‘touch her body’. Thanks, but I’ll pass. And put on some clothes, for Christ’s sake!
He wanted to ‘make love in the club’. You don’t make love in a club, Usher. You fuck skanky hos in a club.
2008 was the year of Auto-Tune, otherwise known as that annoying voice distorter thingy that everyone and their mama was using on tracks. T Pain has Auto-Tune to thank for his entire career.
Not so much a songstress anymore as much as she is a walking ‘just say no’ campaign. What the hell happened? In the space of 12 months, Crackhouse has aged 30 years. 2009 will probably see this queen of all crackheads on a televised intervention, offering $20 blowjobs in Camden or releasing a track with T Pain and his Auto-Tune in a desperate attempt to stay relevant.
Let us pray that 2009 has some better music in store. So, who made it onto your musical villains list this year?