Prowla wrote:
1. Lady in Red. (The "cheek to cheek" bit makes me feel ill!)
Anything by Chris de Burgh makes me feel ill
Chistmas 1986, I'm a trendy Mancunian indie-kid teenager, spending the holiday with my aunt's family in Belfast. What did we indie kids look forward to every Xmas? The double Xmas and New Year edition of the NME of course (with the bumper quiz, albums of the year, etc). This is only recently after L**y in R*d, the smash hit by local-boy-made-good has been topping the charts for weeks. Every newsagent I go into (and I think I went in to most of them), I have the same conversation:
Have you got the NME?
The what?
The NME
Eh?
It's a pop music paper, (but it's not pop, 'cos pop is stuff like Bros and Wham and that's manufactured shite, the NME has radical, relevant stuff like err, the Pastels and Raymonde, or something)
Ah pop music! Right. No, we haven't got that,sorry.
Hang on wee minute, we have got the CHRIS DE BURGH CHRISTMAS SPECIAL COLLECTORS MAGAZINE, WITH A FREE POSTER AND EVERTHING, WOULD YOU LIKE THAT INSTEAD?
ARGHHHHHHH! Shop after bloody shop, Chris de f******g Burgh, I still hate the b*stard.
I hate him for his f*cking awful whining tremolo voice
I hate his awful sentimentality
I hate his wife for inspiring him
I hate his prog Christian rock themes (Cor! The spaceman is really talking about Jesus. Wow, that's really clever!!)
I especially hate his one, big f*cking eyebrow that stretches across his forehead like a hairy draft excluder. (cheek to cheek, urghh)
I'd rather listen to a marathon performance of Sarah Brightman singing the Frog Chorus, than be exposed to the sound of that tw*t. For goodness sake, he's worse than Phil Collins.
On the positive side, I did get a couple of New Order LPs off my sister that Xmas and my cousins took me out for lots of under-age drinking and got my ear pierced.