“Comedy is now legal on Twitter,” declared Elon Musk shortly before losing his position as the world’s richest wally. The way things are going, hopefully he’ll tumble down the rankings faster than a bank holiday cheese-chaser on Cooper’s Hill in Gloucestershire and be forced to go on the game. You’d think a thrice divorcee with a South African accent and slappable forehead would be a niche kink but there are plenty of fanboys out there with cryptocurrency to splash and an involuntary celibacy predicament. The Musked One also swore to suspend parody accounts, which seemed a counterintuitive way to decriminalise humour. What he really wanted to stop were posts that mocked him, his ill-informed beliefs and those of his three friends (Joe Rogan; Russell Brand; a line drawing named Dilbert). He may be almost as wealthy as Bernard Arnault, but Musk’s skin remains thinner than an unpeeled chorizo’s.
So before he outlaws punching upwards altogether, let’s crack on with the annual shoddy rundown of crappy albums. And if any touchy plutocrats out there don’t like it, you can always purchase this blog at a mere sum of 44 billion dweebcoins. Then you can write PARODY across it in virtual marker pen or simply run it into the ground quicker than I can.
Arcade Fire – WEE
“WE can’t wait to be in a room with you and sing
it together as it’s meant to be heard,” tweeted Arcade Fire when plugging their
first album since lockdown. “WE works better when we do it together.” The sentiment was dampened slightly when looking closer at their
account. They have over 90,000 followers on Twitter. How many accounts do they
follow back? A. Big. Fat. ZERO! They have this in common with Peter Hitchens, a
man who’s turned his nose up so many times his face is now frozen in permanent
condescension.
Followers: 949.6k
Following: 0
#together
Since the album’s release, a series of allegations
against singer Win Butler have painted some of WEE’s lyrics in an unfortunate
new light. “Lookout kid, trust your body / You can dance, and you can shake.”
Sorry, Edwin. I’m not really interested. “It’s not up to you.” Pardon? “You and
me could be we! Could be weeeeeeee!” Leave people alone, you PartyRing-hatted weasel.
Kanye Westphalia – Dondaseeinskampf Zwei
In 2022 Yeezy went more batshit than Bruce Wayne’s ensuite. After a series of increasingly antisemitic pronouncements he declared his outright hard-on for Hitler, a fascist who’d condemn West as racially inferior and might even have struggled to appreciate the lyrical flow on My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy. According to Ye, Adolf did invent highways and microphones though, which suggests the rapper has read fewer history books than the number of successful bids he’ll have at the White House.
Highlights on his eleventh studio album included ‘Jesus
Volks’, ‘Blutorden On The Leaves’, ‘Devil In A New Dresden’, ‘Through The
Wehrmacht’, ‘Heimkehr (featuring Chris Martin Bormann)’, and ‘Heideggers In
Paris’.
Muse – Willy Of The People
Muse singer Matt Bellamy has renounced his beliefs in chemtrails, spiked tap water, UFO botty probes, The Moon Landings Directed By Stanley Kubrick, the Earth’s flatness, Paul McCartney’s deadness and 9/11’s inside-jobness. Well, he says he has. Which isn’t necessarily the same thing. What hasn’t changed is his approach to writing bombastically overproduced songs that could have some sort of socio-political sentiment behind them but are vague enough that any interpretation can be projected onto them by anybody on the spectrum from homemade jam bottling Green Party flyerers to QAnon nail-bomb enthusiasts. Cast thy net wide, Bell-am-end, over that oceanwide demographic, for Muse can be all things to all men. The Incel Bee Gees. Reclaim Party Rasmus. Neil Oliver’s Sparks. Momentum Freddie Mercury. Centrist Dad Tool. 4chan A-ha…
Incidentally, chances are Kanye West
listens to Muse. All the time, Muse are playing in his blinged headphones. If
not using one of his own songs (which admittedly is more likely) he'll probably
choose Muse as the theme music to his next presidential campaign. Desecration!
Liberation! Kill or be killed! Another world war! Lebensraum! Podkulachnik! Scaramouche!
Scaramouche!
Bard Act – The Overcoat
A northern man wearing a long jacket, glasses and a ruff recites Shakespeare over a post-punk backing band. Some critics considered it a little dated.
Bruce NoSpringChickenSteen - Only The Long Decline
Less of The Boss these days than David Brent when
he still turns up to the office after being fired, Bruce has reached the Johnny
Cash American Recordings stage of showbusiness. Propped in front of the
microphone by Ron Aniello and told to sing some old R&B hits, Bruce
did exactly what he was told thereby undermining all those male rockist types who vaunt his “authentic” superiority over karaoke talent show singers and
Crazy Frog.
To rub further salt in the earholes, Springsteen defended Ticketmaster’s cynical “dynamic pricing” model on the basis that
“Well, I’m old.” Come on, Bruce! That’s the same excuse that codgers use when
asking non-whites where they really come from or refusing to learn the preferred
pronouns of the perfectly friendly milkperson.
Liam Gallagher – C’mon, You Know, Aussie, C’mon
Liam Gallagher records a 45-minute version of the theme
tune to Kerry Packer’s World Series Cricket. Still not the dullest or most derivative
thing he’s ever sung.
Kiefer Sutherland – Blur Streets
It took just 24 hours for this O.G. nepo baby to record a bunch of Blur songs in the style of The Streets. Once ridiculed for his ropey English accent as a Roman senator in the period spear-fest Pompeii, the Young Guns star still managed sound more convincingly cockney than either Albarn or Skinner.
Carctic Monkcars – THE CAR
Alexandcar Turncar wasn’t old enough to own a driver’s license when his band first formed. Twenty years on, he finally got round to writing a fully automobile-related, road tripping concept albrum. He had dabbled in similar ideas on previous singles ‘Corvette You Look Good On The Dancefloor’, ‘When Datsun Goes Down’, ‘Suck It And SEAT’ and ‘Why’d You Only Call Me When You’re Hyundai?’ But now it was time to really hand the wheel over to his petrol-headed imagination. And the only thing that was going to stop him was Charli XCX climbing all over his bonnet in a tiny bikini with a J.G. Ballard novel in her hand, its pages dripping in various bodily fluids.
‘The red car and the blue car had a race,’ Turncar
crooned in randomly fluctuating notes over pseudo-John Barry orchestration.
‘All red wants to do is stuff his face,’ he continued, mixing his tenses
slightly to prove his maverick rule-breaking abilities. ‘He eats everything he sees / From
trucks to prickly trees,’ continued the wise lyricist, presumably meaning
cacti. ‘But smart old blue he took The Milky Way…’ It was an instant classic. A
tale of greed, hubris, temperance and heroism, Aesop-like in its simplicity. It
made listeners feel confident that their waistlines would barely expand, even as
they shovelled the endorsed brand of sugary snack into their insatiable faces. Enjoy
your tubs of Mars Celebrations this Christmas, folks. At least it wasn’t as
much of an overpriced, tooth-ruining rip-off as Tranquility Base Hotel Chocolat.
This year’s listicle is dedicated to Victor Lewis-Smith.
