What else is new?

I can take no more! Enough already, James Blunt! Its time to get a grip! Come on, man. Stop being so indescribably wet. If she is so beautiful, stop standing there in your t-shirt and floppy fringe and hush your hopeless falsetto crooning. Go out and get her already.

And if James Blunt seems drippy next to the rock stars of the good old days, he is positively macho by comparison with Keiser Chiefs. These are weeds from Leeds whose hit single was ‘I predict a riot’, a tale about the bourgeois apprehension of a guy who tries to get a taxi on a Saturday night in the centre of town.
‘Watching the people get lairy/Its not very pretty I tell thee/Walking through the town is quite scary/And not very sensible either’ sing these epic softies. Then the guy meets another person in a tracksuit, who looks though he might offer violence, but doesn’t, and that’s about it. It’s pathetic!

When I was young it was standard practice for a rock star to start the evening by biting the head off a pigeon and throwing the television out of the hotel window before electrocuting his girlfriend in the bath and almost drowning in a cocktail of whisky, heroin and his own vomit. The self respecting rockers didn’t get up on stage and start whimpering how they predict a riot. They incited them.

Let’s face it – the rock star role models of yesteryear were far more thuggish, brutal and in-your-face than the rock stars of today, most of whom are almost embarrassing in their niceness. Grow some balls already.