Pussycat Dolls to address current affairs

pussycat_dollsEschewing normative on-stage banter of requests to fumigate male genitalia – and forcibly inserting their nipples into weakly protesting audience member’s ears – the Pussycat Dolls are instead to address pressing current affairs issues. “Y’all better watch out, cuz we bin reading the New Statestman, The Independent, even that Economist sheeet and we be doped up on what’s going down”.

A recent witness to their recent Birmingham NEC appearance described frontwoman Nicole Scherzinger detailing of unemployed, recession-hit, factory worker in Ireland as “genuinely moving. It sure got my think on”. Another fan was overheard describing the experience as  “like when you watch Comic Relief and at first the images of kids starving and whatever makes you feel a bit uncomfortable laughing at David Mitchell wearing a dress. But then you sort of like how it reminds you that you’re not homeless or hungry, you’re just out watching a band. Doing your thing”. LW

The YHIHL September Rumourgeddon

Paddling through this month’s stagnant tanks of conjecture, because you’re too lazy to bother.

50 Cent has a change of heart?
“I’ve been listening to a lot of my old stuff lately, and you know what? It’s really sexist”.

A change of heart

Scott Walker and Jack White to star in Judd Apatow’s latest bromance?
Walker to play a twice-bitten trapeze-walker with a penchant for fast girls and fast cars. White plays the facially disfigured mime artist who shows him how to love.

Adam Faith to reform?

Faith

Alan Rickman reveals twee-core aspirations.
“Basically, I’ve got this collection of limericks I’ve been simply retching to put a ukulele to”.

Hiss in Boots?
The Datsun’s former frontman, Dolf De Datsun, is rumoured to appear on Bournemouth’s burgeoning panto circuit. Critics are already panning his “lacklustre Widow Twankey” as “just not worth the £7 asking price”.

Husker Du to curate Guantanamo?

Advertisers realise indie sells
“Obviously indie music doesn’t sell like, indie music. Everyone who listens to that has Spotify. But it does sell car insurance and broadband. And that’s what counts”.

Conor Oberst to embark on ‘immersive musical project’…

After initial recordings of his forthcoming album Feel Me As I Feel Myself failed to “make listeners realise just how uniquely bummed out I am”, Conor Oberst sought to find another way of making the world recognise his enviable capacity for human emotion.

“When people think of me these days, they think of this big hotshot guy. This total dude that helped end the war in Iraq, put Obama in the White House and banged his way round Hollywood. This legend that just like, totally rules. Or they think of me in a sexual way”.

Conor Oberst: Monster Of Choke

Conor Oberst: Monster Of Choke

The project, provisionally titled ‘… sniffle’, will see the hormonal indie hero invite fans into his home for a typical Oberst evening in. Such an evening is said to consist of Oberst wooing a “not conventionally attractive but” -he was keen to stress- “still quite skinny” groupie through a combination of mildly hallucinogenic drugs and establishing what a sensitive guy he is. This portion of the evening will include Oberst demonstrating what a hurtful effect the cruel things people have said about his latest album on DrownedInSound have, tenderly stroking his pet cat and serving a nutritionally-balanced vegan meal laced with mescaline. After making gentle, but masterful, love -before weeping as he climaxes- Oberst will then carefully fold himself into the foetal position whilst explaining why his life is “hollow” and makes him feel “empty inside”. Guests will then be allowed to take it in turns to gently stroke his hair whilst whispering preapproved affirmative phrases to him.

“This is just phase one,” Oberst told us. Forthcoming projects are rumoured to include witnessing Oberst throw back appletinis whilst shouting wildly about how his critics are “just jealous of me, jealous of my lifestyle” and watching Oberst go about a regular day whilst being harangued for up to two separate autographs and be continually mistaken for Ryan Adams.

“I’ve gone as far as I can sonically. My completely unique and original pain just isn’t translating like it used to. I need to find a new way to make people feel sorry for me”. LW

Reverend reveals “almost political” new opus

John McClure, the cheeky-chops head pumbah of laddish protestniks Reverend & The Makers, has disclosed a dramatic about-face at the heart of his songwriting process. McClure, a long-term advocate of radical formica-chomsky sloganeering, has claimed that future Makers material will deliberately “dance around” weighty political subjects, rather than confront them head-on.

John McClure and friends.“We all know the world’s going down the shitter with a bullet” said McClure, “there’s no novelty in that anymore. Everyone knows their government are coked out of their heads. Everyone knows their postman’s on crack. So what are you supposed to write about if you’re the saviour of a generation? Shagging kestrels? Contemporary wallpaper designs? Fuck that shit, man.”

“You can’t really get anything sorted by going for it full-on” says McClure, rubbing his neatly-pruned troglodyte stubble. “I wanna tease people’s opinions subliminarily, like Naomi Klein meets Paul McKenna“. Among the songs currently being wrung over by the Makers are ’Raspberry Jam In The Sudan’, about an incident-free picnic on the Darfur border, and ‘Blood For Oil (Don’t Even Mention It)’, which is about “everything but Iraq”.

“It’s kinda like having a thing for your best mate’s bird, or your second cousin. You know she’s gagging for it, she knows you’re a randy bastard, but  you know if you do anything about it, you’re gonna get kneed in the grapes. That’s kinda the way I feel about the BNP”. AB

Cheryl Cole heralds brave new world

englandsprimroseEngland’s primrose Cheryl Cole is being enlisted in a ground-smashing government scheme, headed by officials of the shadiest importance, to gently whisper a sort of life mandate into the ears of new-born baby girls. The Warrington-based pilot scheme -where the need for Cole’s edict is apparently greatest- is being housed under the guise of a Clorox bleach-making factory, after officials ominously warned “Christ knows what the commies would do if they got wind of this”.

Cole is to divide her time between each individual child, whilst also recording short orations on her manifest specialist subjects. Subjects thus far include emanating a sort of glistening-gold radiance so no-one remembers previous race-hate ambiguities, and how to softly blink a perfectly-formed single tear and allow it to roll slowly down your beautiful cheek. All of which are delivered in those trademark dulcet North-East tones.

Our source secured a recording after seeing a man about a dog. “It’s not like that though. I actually needed to see a man about a dog. My dog is very ill and he was a vet. But he had one of the CD’s. It was a CD-RW, actually. Not very top-secret if you ask me”. When asked what he made of the recording, he informed us “it’s like having warm honey poured directly into your ear, but rather than just sort of solidifying and making your ear all sticky and bunged up, the honey gets right to your brain and makes you realise what it is to be a good person. Do you think I need to lose weight?”

Currently in its’ embryonic (lol!) stages, rumours are circulating of NHS-prescribed MP3s being given to all new parents. Sociologists heading the scheme were keen the emphasise that this is definitely not ‘conditioning’. LW

New Boyzone material causes rift in the “music-credibility continuum”.

Boyzone, every housewife’s favourite blarney-bottomed man band, have unleashed the surprising details of their forthcoming long-player, the first since their 2007 reunion and mandatory greatest hits parcel. According to yesterday’s press release, the peculiarly titled Nadia Handjob Circus “sees an exploration of electronics and traditional instrumentation that’s as inventive and controlled as The Magnetic Fields at their peak”, and features “a Lekman-esque melodic skeleton, embroidered with sampled noises and little electronic tics”.

Ronan Keating, a man who needs no honorific, explained the group’s newfound hankering for credibility. “I was always a big fan of The Cocteau Twins and that dream-pop kinda thing” says Keating, “to be honest, I would have rather taken Boyzone in that direction than have done those ball-of-shite Bee Gees covers. But in the nineties, it was all ‘shut up and dance, lads’. Nowadays we can afford to be a bit more… eclectic”.

Ronan & EoghanKeating claims his epiphany came at last year’s X Factor finale, the very moment he laid his hand on Eoghan Quigg’s disappointed shoulder. With his resolve firmly erected, Keating had to persuade the other band members to see things his way. Mikey Graham, who has spent the last six years making music he describes as “Banhart meets Moondog meets Slim Shady”, took little convincing. “I think Take That was the wake up call”, says Graham. “Their last album clearly took its cue from stuff like The Arcade Fire, but in a dry-shite Gary Barlow kinda way. We heard that and thought ‘Why only go a little bit art-rock? Why not go all the way?’”

Percussionist Keith Duffy concurs, “If that little shitehawk Jason Orange can go barelling around the stage with a semi-acoustic like he’s Rory bleedin’ Gallagher, then he can expect some stiff feckin’ competition”.

For perennial pop cabin boy Stephen Gately, the new direction simply offers a refreshing change of pace. “Back in the nineties, nobody really cared about standing out from the crowd. They had combat pants and 2Unlimited and Panini sticker books. It was all very safe and dull. Despite what you may think, it’s actually really hard to keep dull people entertained. It took singing, dancing, endless costume changes, lying about my sexuality; all that malarkey”.

Boyzone's new drone tome in your homeGately points at the new album artwork, which features a photograph of the band dressed in day-glow druid’s robes, performing a ritual sacrifice on a trifle. “All you need to pull the wool over people’s eyes these days is a few well-timed, quasi-ironic pop culture references and maybe a tape loop solo”.

In Mikey Graham’s home studio, the band listens to the playback of Purple Flesh Helmet, the album’s seven-minute centrepiece, driven by pounding drums and yelping and hollering, unmistakably Irish vocals. “I was always in this band for the gee. I don’t mind saying that”, says Shane Lynch, now the band’s ukulele player. “But I’m getting on a bit now, I need to expand my groupie appeal. Girls with fringes and vintage dresses don’t mind as much if you’ve got the odd grey chest hair. And to be an indie-rock idol, it takes about half as much effort as it does to be a pop idol”.

So how will the music-buying drones take to Boyzone’s new sound? Music critic and raving caucasian Paul Soundbite reacted with the kind of doom-eyed mania usually found on the faces of sandwich board-wearing God-botherers. “This will have a catastrophic effect on pop”, said Soundbite. “If suddenly there’s no aesthetic difference between Boyzone and, say, Field Mice, a black hole’s gonna open up in the music-credibility continuum. And who’ll get sucked in? Noah & The Whale? The Killers? That young girl who does all the electro-pop? It’s anyone’s guess. The whole hierarchy of pop snobbery will crumble. And then what will we have to do? Listen to music on it’s own merits? Christ, I hope not”. AB

NEXT WEEK IN YHIHL: All the latest stink on Birkenau Vs. The Fans

‘Cool’, is like, so totally over…

Tepid? Alec De Blowtaine.

Tepid? Alec De Blowtaine.

If you’ve just started wearing plaid shirts and telling your friends you listen to Animal Collective, you might want to think again – because cool is no longer ‘where it’s at’. Priggish whistle-blower Alec De Blowtaine, who has made an impressive name for himself by stating the flipping obvious, has traced a new social trend – the end of cool. “The shit has hit the fan on cool”, De Blowtaine told us. “It’s just reached the end of its trajectory. A cultural U-turn is inescapable. Being cool just isn’t cool anymore”.

Long since the refuge of those skinny electro-popsters blowing mirror-kisses, of those downtrodden students wearing tracksuit bottoms and feigning an interest in reggae, of anyone, anywhere, who says ‘maaaate’… They could always be good at being cool, even if they couldn’t be good at anything else.

“I mean, what actually is cool anymore?” De Blowtaine continued. “A state of apathy? A carefully-honed Irish accent? Spending all day on the internet and saying ‘LOL’? We just don’t know anymore”.

“Soon there’ll be something new to extract a lofty sense of self-importance from. And there probably was before. Do you think the dinosaurs went around wearing sunglasses indoors, pretending to be on drugs and shagging about? No. The fact is – we have no idea how they got off”.

Vic Berton in his heyday.

Vic Berton in his heyday.

Cool has been cool ever since Vic Berton, drummer from The Charleston Chasers, got absolutely shitfaced and smashed up bandmate Benny Goodman’s clarinet before saying ‘well, duh’ – back in ’28. “Maaaan, it was the Boring Twenties back then” Berton recalls, whilst being bafflingly still alive.

“Berton changed it all. He alone was responsible for Elvis annexing black music and hitting on underage girls. For Keith Richards hovering up his own father’s cremated ashes. For Pete Doherty staggering around and generally acting like a prick. It was all him”. De Blowtaine claims what the next cultural milestone is entirely unpredictable. “It won’t necessarily be warm. Or even tepid. It might not be a temperature at all”.

“It could be a colour – maybe puce is the new cool. Or a state of mind. Or even a religion. Perhaps it’s just being really fucking old. It’s anyone’s guess”.

“In Tokyo they’re prancing about making elephant noises. In Stockholm there have been incidents of former hipsters purposefully contracting lupus. No-one knows what the next big thing is, and everyone wants to stay ahead of the curve. The ‘cool’ sands of time are running out. And they’re saying ‘Hey! I don’t know if I want to be sand anymore. I want to be a handbag. Or a purse’”. LW

Between eight and twelve Richards clones still at large

The ‘Rolling Clones’ saga looks set to continue beyond all public indifference, as the Keith Richards clones who escaped from a highly scientific Brazilian science facility last year are said to be “indestructible”, according to Interpol. The clones, which were developed in order to provide replacement tissue for Richards’ 2006 cranial surgery, were last seen commandeering a smuggling ship in Fazendinha last August, and are now thought to be “anywhere you wanna be”.

"Stapled"; Keith Richards

"Stapled"; Keith Richards

“So far, we’ve found two Keiths in America, one in Britain and one in Germany,” reported Ezra Labamba, the Interpol stooge in charge of rounding up the cloned rockers. “The problem is, these clones can withstand anything; shotgun blasts, laser fire, radiation. They’re not like your ordinary clones at all”.

In an incident already being described as “regrettable”, Cameron Muncey, the 28 year-old guitarist with Aussie pish-tooters Jet, was killed in a controlled explosion last week -possibly by accident- after being mistaken for one of the clones. The incident has sent alarm waves around the riff-rock community. “I’ve spent the last thirty years as a Keith Richards clone,” says Aerosmith’s Joe Perry “and I’m thinking maybe I should be worried about my safety. I’ve had Chrisse Hynde and The Black Crowes on the blower all week, and I can tell you we’re all shit-scared”.

“The very real problem for us,” says Labamba, “is figuring out what to call a multitude of Keith Richardses. A riff? A hoover? It’s a lexicological nightmare”.

So what does the real Keef think of the whole furore? We hammered the 64 year-old mancorpse for comment. “I mean, it’s like watching your kid sister’s pet rabbit get stapled to a train, maann,” laughs Richards, “and, like, the train’s headed straight for Fleet Street, y’know?” AB

Lubunny’s new album “murderiffic”

The Lubunny side of the street

The Lubunny side of the street

Linear-haired Californian slouch-rockers Lubbunny made headlines while recording their latest album Lackadaisi(CAL). Holed up in the studio eating only hummus and Wheetos, the troupe sought to intensify their trademark drone-idle sound. Having decided upon a new way to generate increased inertia, the trio put themselves into a chemically induced coma and had the sound technician record the melodic splish-splosh of their dribble hitting the plastic-covered pillow. The band were initially unhappy with the results. “Yeah, it sounded new, but it was nothing knew” said frontman Ira Stale.

Hitting upon a ground-breaking new idea, the band kidnapped an otherwise happy and well-functioning WH Smiths’ floor manager and locked him in their basement recording studio. They proceeded to regale him with anecdotes of their last tour (including the now infamous groupie and a mug of Horlicks story) until the floor manager literally died of lethargy. Using a loop of his final death spasms as a base for the album, they went on to make a hit record. “We’re finally exactly where we want to be” concluded Stale.  LW

Ukranian artist shows the dull side of pop stars

"It happens" - Marinochka Bogdanna

"It happens" - Marinochka Bogdanna

Step through the doors of the Spennymoor Exhibition Hall next month, and you’ll be greeted by a half-size scale sculpture of a sharply dressed man pushing a shopping trolley of tinned goods through a suburban Tesco. The sculpture, which bears the unmistakable likeness of Tears For Fears’ Roland Orzabal, is part of the Pop Diagra exhibition, the brainchild of Ukraine-born artist Marinochka Bogdanna.

Pop Diagra is a collection of mixed-media depictions of recording artists engaged in “ordinary, pedestrian, even mundane” daily activities, and is the result of Bogdanna’s year-long surviellance of fourteen famous subjects. Bogdanna, 53, aired the particulars of her projet diabolique at a press preview racket last night, “Rock stars are treated like the Jesus in Britain, yes? Boys -silly little boys- put pictures on their walls with blu-tac, pictures of men with tongues and guitars. Very phallic. Very gaying behaviour”.

At this point, Bogdanna gestures at Pop Diagram #3, a watercolour depiction of former Von Bondie Marcie Bolen, seen looking dejectedly at a long flight of stairs after a hard day’s punting. “With Pop Diagra, I show that Musicians are boring people, they live boring lives, yes? They argue with their neighbours over shrubbery disputes, they check their Bebo, they excrete. It happens, yes? Sometimes they take the excrement from the anus and curiously put it in their mouth. It happens”.

Pop Diagra has struck a welcome chord with talkative local man Harry Dullard. “I used to read about the wild, fascinating lives rock stars lead and cry into my Ale –I’m a Newcastle Brown man, incidentally. I find it helps with my body’s acid-alkaline imbalance, but that’s just me. Anyway, I knew I could never live up to these interesting role models, and it caused me a great deal of anxiety”. After a fifteen-minute anecdote about feeling inadequate while doing the hovering, Mr. Dullard began to say something relevant, “thanks to Mari, I know that if I find myself accidentally throwing a red sock in a white wash, that doesn’t mean I’m leading an unremarkable life. It actually means I’m just like Lily Allen”.

The highlight of the exhibition is expected to be Pop Diagram #12, a half-hour looped video of Nick Cave sat in his Brighton living room, watching an episode of Top Gear in almost complete silence, before muttering what sounds like “tell ‘em, Jez”. AB

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