With only the major label-fellating Kerrang! to rely on for music reviews while in jail, it has been hard for me to determine which new bands are hot and which are just hot air. Panic! At The Disco, for instance, undoubtedly fall into the latter category. I know this because I’ve heard them. Other bands, such as My Chemical Romance, are harder to gauge. While I will readily concede that ‘I’m not OK (I Promise)’ is a quality song, I’ve never really ‘got’ MCR. I put this down to the fact that at 26 I am probably too old to appreciate their music, and I don’t mean that condescendingly; I’m just jealous that I’m not 15 and able to rebel by wearing eyeliner and carving ‘MCR’ into the back of my i-Pod (but not my arm). There is also the distinct possibly that the band may be a load of over-hyped pseudo-emo pish attempting to cash in on the disaffected teen market. Nevertheless, unlike the aforementioned Panic! At The Disco and many of their label mates, I don’t doubt that My Chemical Romance are a proper band. Their latest single, ‘The Black Parade’ is pretty catchy, while an album track called ‘Mamma’ that was aired on the Radio One Rock Show also impressed. The trouble with MCR is that they are on the verge of going global à la Green Day, with all the media hubris and knob polishing that such stardom entails. While I am sure that Gerard Way and co are delighted by the multi-platinum discs their latest opus is about to accrue, I’m sure even they will admit that being popular has its drawbacks. Like having to name Chris Moyles among your new ‘celebrity’ fans. Given that ‘Moylesy’ is more of a Robbie Williams man, in music if not in looks, he is hardly the sort of DJ/self-publicist that any self-respecting band would want to be associated with.
And then there’s the attention of The Sun’s Victoria Newton to deal with, a woman capable of sniffing out parvenus at 100 paces. She has recently begun writing about MCR in her daily showbiz column despite, by her own admission, not being a fan of their music. Still, they are at number one so I suppose she has to make the effort. God forbid she might miss an invite to their album launch party, with all the schmoozing opportunities that such an occasion would entail. Who knows, Chris Moyles might even be there, and if he’s there, Victoria’s favourite ‘rockstar’, Robbie, might also show face. And if, by some stroke of misfortune, My Chemical Romance deigned to make an appearance, well, she could always pretend she didn’t see them in the shadows, what with all their black makeup on. Naturally, Victoria Newton – like any tabloid gossip columnist – is loath to criticize anyone, even ‘freaks’ such as My Chemical Romance, for fear she may antagonize their record company and thus be denied future scoops from other, more desirable artists. This is why even steaming great turds such as Victoria Beckham's and Robbie Williams’ latest efforts are salivated over in her Bizarre column.
Of course, just because Victoria Newton doesn’t like My Chemical Romance doesn’t mean she can’t print disparaging remarks about them in her column. She can; provided someone else utters the pejoratives. For this reason, in today’s Sun newspaper, we find the following delightful invective from the cloth-eared Ms Newton: ‘Kasabian have launched a scathing attack on emo music – after learning that My Chemical Romance are heading for No1 tomorrow. The Leicester lads are devastated that the depressing phenomenon of American emo, or emotional, music – think miserable teenage goths – has spread to the UK.’ I must admit, I’m grateful to Victoria for explaining to me what this emo malarkey is. Having been in prison for the past year, I’d never heard of this newfangled craze before, although I must admit, I did wonder why all the convicts had suddenly acquired floppy fringes and begun daubing boot polish on their eyelids. And what’s all this about emo kids being ‘miserable teenage goths’? If that’s true, this cult is highly dangerous and should be banned before another Columbine tragedy occurs. I wouldn’t be surprised if My Chemical Romance pull wings off pigeons during their live shows to pander to their gothic audience.
You know, I could have sworn I’d seen throngs of emo kids moping about this country for the last three years, but clearly I was imagining things. Forget Taking Back Sunday’s ‘Tell All Your Friends’ or Brand New’s ‘Failure By Design’; emo only arrived in this country the weekend that My Chemical Romance released ‘The Black Parade’. Previously, emo was just an obscure American cult. (The News of The World ‘review’ of The Black Parade that appeared a few days after I wrote this blog is utterly mystifying: ‘US chart-toppers riding high on the crest of the Emo wave - short for “emotional music”, or something like that -they should just call it Emu instead.’ Oh-kay…if you say so. And here’s the well-informed and in no way scare-mongering Quick Guide To Emo, published in the following week’s Sun: ‘It is claimed the underground emo subculture encourages teens to wallow in self-misery and glorifies self-harm. Emo kids have been found swapping tips online about how best to display wrist scars. One urban legend, believed to be a hoax, tells of a boy from California who posted a suicide note on his myspace website then shot himself.’)
More information on this newfound craze is provided by Kasabian singer Tom Meighan, who knowledgably whines: ‘It’s all about inflicting self-harm on children.’ It’s official: My Chemical Romance are child abusers. He continues: ‘These kids believe they are being rebellious. But they are just moaning at each other.’ Meighan, on the other hand, never moans about anything, apart from emo kids of course. For a frontman in a debauched indie band, he does a pretty good impression of an incensed Daily Mail reader. But the rant doesn’t just end there. Meighan continues: ‘It’s like ventriloquists’ music. [That’s right, Gerard Way can now sing without moving his lips, presumably because it’s not him that’s doing the singing but the devil, who is merely using Way as his vassal.] It’s weird and dark. They don’t have anything positive to say. [Unlike Kasabian, whose latest single is the cheerily titled ‘Shoot The Runner’.] The only good news is that these clowns won’t be around much longer. Their make-up will flake off and the scene will die out. And it can’t happen soon enough.’ The oracle that is Tom Meighan has spoken and the message is grim for My Chemical Romance: their days are numbered. Kasabian, on the other hand, are set to endure forever.
Not to be outdone in harbingering doom for emo, Victoria Newton also chips in with her two cents: ‘My Chemical Romance’s new single has blasted the New Jersey band into the upper stratosphere in the UK – and some pundits are predicting they will quickly become the biggest band in the world. Their music appeals to depressed and disaffected teenagers.’ Fone your local MP! Petition your local councillor! Ban this morbid band before they steal our children away from us and invoke a mass suicide through their subliminal lyrics! With MCR’s fans seemingly hell-bent on killing themselves, one wonders how they are supposed to become the biggest band in the world. Who’s gonna buy their records once their entire fanbase has committed hara-kiri? In a post-My Chemical Romance world, all that would be left after the mass suicide would be cockroaches and Kasabian fans. The Sun notes: ‘Kasabian guitarist Serge Pizzorno said of the emo outbreak: “I just can’t relate to it. We are about decadence, having a good time and getting off your head. We champion youthful rebellion. We’re into peace and love, spreading harmony and having respect for people. [That’s right, Kasabian are championing youthful rebellion through the subversive mediums of peace, love and harmony.] But these people are the absolute opposite. It’s sad. These emo kids should get out more and try and have a good time instead. They should come to one of our shows. That would save them.”’ Given the choice between attending a Kasabian show or staying at home and slitting my wrists, I’d know which option I’d go for. Is it any wonder emo kids feel so disaffected and confused when they’ve got Kasabian, Victoria Newton and half of Middle England on their backs? Of course, I’ve got no problem with anyone slagging off My Chemical Romance and the emo generation if they want to. But it would be nice if they could get even some of their facts right. Worryingly, this week’s Kerrang! reports on the rise of the ‘chavmo’ - chavs who have taken to aping emo fashion while, beneath the floppy fringe, still listening to Kasabian and dissing real emos for being ‘fags’. While it would be nice to think that the chavmos – or nedmos as I presume their Scottish counterparts are known – are in danger of extinction through mass suicide, I suspect that - like the genuine emos - they aren’t going anywhere anytime soon. And if Victoria Newton and Kasabian think My Chemical Romance are depressing, just wait till they’ve heard my much-vaunted new goth band, Merchants of Despair. We’re so dark and depressing that after one listen to our black tirade, you can’t help but smash the CD into pieces and stab yourself through the heart with the shards. I don’t expect people to enjoy my art; I expect them to suffer for it. The Merchants of Despair are not OK. I promise.
And then there’s the attention of The Sun’s Victoria Newton to deal with, a woman capable of sniffing out parvenus at 100 paces. She has recently begun writing about MCR in her daily showbiz column despite, by her own admission, not being a fan of their music. Still, they are at number one so I suppose she has to make the effort. God forbid she might miss an invite to their album launch party, with all the schmoozing opportunities that such an occasion would entail. Who knows, Chris Moyles might even be there, and if he’s there, Victoria’s favourite ‘rockstar’, Robbie, might also show face. And if, by some stroke of misfortune, My Chemical Romance deigned to make an appearance, well, she could always pretend she didn’t see them in the shadows, what with all their black makeup on. Naturally, Victoria Newton – like any tabloid gossip columnist – is loath to criticize anyone, even ‘freaks’ such as My Chemical Romance, for fear she may antagonize their record company and thus be denied future scoops from other, more desirable artists. This is why even steaming great turds such as Victoria Beckham's and Robbie Williams’ latest efforts are salivated over in her Bizarre column.
Of course, just because Victoria Newton doesn’t like My Chemical Romance doesn’t mean she can’t print disparaging remarks about them in her column. She can; provided someone else utters the pejoratives. For this reason, in today’s Sun newspaper, we find the following delightful invective from the cloth-eared Ms Newton: ‘Kasabian have launched a scathing attack on emo music – after learning that My Chemical Romance are heading for No1 tomorrow. The Leicester lads are devastated that the depressing phenomenon of American emo, or emotional, music – think miserable teenage goths – has spread to the UK.’ I must admit, I’m grateful to Victoria for explaining to me what this emo malarkey is. Having been in prison for the past year, I’d never heard of this newfangled craze before, although I must admit, I did wonder why all the convicts had suddenly acquired floppy fringes and begun daubing boot polish on their eyelids. And what’s all this about emo kids being ‘miserable teenage goths’? If that’s true, this cult is highly dangerous and should be banned before another Columbine tragedy occurs. I wouldn’t be surprised if My Chemical Romance pull wings off pigeons during their live shows to pander to their gothic audience.
You know, I could have sworn I’d seen throngs of emo kids moping about this country for the last three years, but clearly I was imagining things. Forget Taking Back Sunday’s ‘Tell All Your Friends’ or Brand New’s ‘Failure By Design’; emo only arrived in this country the weekend that My Chemical Romance released ‘The Black Parade’. Previously, emo was just an obscure American cult. (The News of The World ‘review’ of The Black Parade that appeared a few days after I wrote this blog is utterly mystifying: ‘US chart-toppers riding high on the crest of the Emo wave - short for “emotional music”, or something like that -they should just call it Emu instead.’ Oh-kay…if you say so. And here’s the well-informed and in no way scare-mongering Quick Guide To Emo, published in the following week’s Sun: ‘It is claimed the underground emo subculture encourages teens to wallow in self-misery and glorifies self-harm. Emo kids have been found swapping tips online about how best to display wrist scars. One urban legend, believed to be a hoax, tells of a boy from California who posted a suicide note on his myspace website then shot himself.’)
More information on this newfound craze is provided by Kasabian singer Tom Meighan, who knowledgably whines: ‘It’s all about inflicting self-harm on children.’ It’s official: My Chemical Romance are child abusers. He continues: ‘These kids believe they are being rebellious. But they are just moaning at each other.’ Meighan, on the other hand, never moans about anything, apart from emo kids of course. For a frontman in a debauched indie band, he does a pretty good impression of an incensed Daily Mail reader. But the rant doesn’t just end there. Meighan continues: ‘It’s like ventriloquists’ music. [That’s right, Gerard Way can now sing without moving his lips, presumably because it’s not him that’s doing the singing but the devil, who is merely using Way as his vassal.] It’s weird and dark. They don’t have anything positive to say. [Unlike Kasabian, whose latest single is the cheerily titled ‘Shoot The Runner’.] The only good news is that these clowns won’t be around much longer. Their make-up will flake off and the scene will die out. And it can’t happen soon enough.’ The oracle that is Tom Meighan has spoken and the message is grim for My Chemical Romance: their days are numbered. Kasabian, on the other hand, are set to endure forever.
Not to be outdone in harbingering doom for emo, Victoria Newton also chips in with her two cents: ‘My Chemical Romance’s new single has blasted the New Jersey band into the upper stratosphere in the UK – and some pundits are predicting they will quickly become the biggest band in the world. Their music appeals to depressed and disaffected teenagers.’ Fone your local MP! Petition your local councillor! Ban this morbid band before they steal our children away from us and invoke a mass suicide through their subliminal lyrics! With MCR’s fans seemingly hell-bent on killing themselves, one wonders how they are supposed to become the biggest band in the world. Who’s gonna buy their records once their entire fanbase has committed hara-kiri? In a post-My Chemical Romance world, all that would be left after the mass suicide would be cockroaches and Kasabian fans. The Sun notes: ‘Kasabian guitarist Serge Pizzorno said of the emo outbreak: “I just can’t relate to it. We are about decadence, having a good time and getting off your head. We champion youthful rebellion. We’re into peace and love, spreading harmony and having respect for people. [That’s right, Kasabian are championing youthful rebellion through the subversive mediums of peace, love and harmony.] But these people are the absolute opposite. It’s sad. These emo kids should get out more and try and have a good time instead. They should come to one of our shows. That would save them.”’ Given the choice between attending a Kasabian show or staying at home and slitting my wrists, I’d know which option I’d go for. Is it any wonder emo kids feel so disaffected and confused when they’ve got Kasabian, Victoria Newton and half of Middle England on their backs? Of course, I’ve got no problem with anyone slagging off My Chemical Romance and the emo generation if they want to. But it would be nice if they could get even some of their facts right. Worryingly, this week’s Kerrang! reports on the rise of the ‘chavmo’ - chavs who have taken to aping emo fashion while, beneath the floppy fringe, still listening to Kasabian and dissing real emos for being ‘fags’. While it would be nice to think that the chavmos – or nedmos as I presume their Scottish counterparts are known – are in danger of extinction through mass suicide, I suspect that - like the genuine emos - they aren’t going anywhere anytime soon. And if Victoria Newton and Kasabian think My Chemical Romance are depressing, just wait till they’ve heard my much-vaunted new goth band, Merchants of Despair. We’re so dark and depressing that after one listen to our black tirade, you can’t help but smash the CD into pieces and stab yourself through the heart with the shards. I don’t expect people to enjoy my art; I expect them to suffer for it. The Merchants of Despair are not OK. I promise.
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