Dom Kureen returns. Guest opinion articles do not necessarily reflect the views of the publication. Ed
Television promotes talent shows as an opportunity for the unappreciated masses to gain some hitherto unobtained recognition. The format is simple, with the supposed unearthing of gems coupled with a sombre sob story, you know the ones; “My Uncle’s perigrine told me on his death bed that his one wish was that I sing in front of a panel of expressionless Botox mules” (or in the worst case scenario the vacuous Piers Morgan.)
The age of emasculation
A modern day Victorian freak show, which creates a cycle of mundane, overly manicured karaoke singers and abuses well-known songs by relentlessly spawning impotent cover versions.
In fact, One Direction’s most notable achievement to date is plotting the downfall of two great tunes simultaneously in their disturbing One Way or Another/Teenage Kicks mash-up, thus causing twice the damage of anyone else in the industry.
Who runs the world? Girls… Or girly men
These effeminate manufactured wax dolls in their burgundy skinny jeans and hipster tees are so slickly packaged: sell outs guaranteed to sell out, regardless of the sounds emanating from their newly veneered pie holes.
For it is, as the deliciously cynical Nathan Barley opined, ‘the age of the idiot’, with repetitive waves of subliminal dross accompanying tabloid stories planted by soulless goons who count the abhorrent Max Clifford as the Godfather of their murky industry.
All of this ensures that the autobiography of a 19 year-old, whose paramount struggles are deciding which hipster goggles should adorn their annoying face at the weekend, will take its place upon the best seller list, as every author who is dead and isn’t related to Katie Price rolls around in their grave, even the ones who are still alive die a little at the thought.
Copy of a copy of a copy
The criticism isn’t that these boys are not long off the bosom, indeed ‘1D’ are virtual veterans when placed alongside the latest clone to plop from the conveyer belt, Union J; an even more irritating and gutless bunch of affected douchebags than all that have come before.
My contention is that as long as messrs Cowell and Fuller control TV and the drones lap it all up like a parched cat at a water bowl, this is in danger of becoming a soulless game of ‘Simon Says’, where hell on earth transpires and the deaf are blessed.
This is only the beginning
Getting Rage Against The Machine’s tour de force, ‘Killing in the name of’, to the summit of the popular charts in 2009 showed that it’s not only the slack jawed manufactured goons who are revolting, a whole generation of irked musicians and fans are sick of having brain dead gobbledegook pumped into their subconscious, longing to see this sugar pop castle come tumbling down.
Sadly, these high school bands are so ingrained in the psyche of the masses now that we’re unlikely to witness the demise of the sugar pop era of the music industry any time soon.
And, much like Steps covering a Bee Gees classic – that’s a tragedy.
Image: Eva Rinaldi Photography under CC BY 2.0
