The NME Awards: my view
Well, where to start...?
The NME, for those who don't know, is a music paper. It's been around for decades and is a rite of passage for any teenager into music that is a little non-mainstream. It is, traditionally, the champion of the "indie" spirit; or at least it was, back when there were other weekly music papers. Now it's something of a loner out there in printed-medium land.
I am long since past the age of the target audience of the NME, and the lineups of nominees served to emphasize that. They also served to emphasize my feeling that British music is in a horrendous state. I still listen to music every day. (By "listen to music", I mean music that I choose, not simply what bombards me from the radio or some other passive means.) Much of the music I choose is new, too. In recent months, the wife and I have bought albums by Coheed & Cambria, Gallows, and The Used and have downloaded tracks by acts such as Atreyu. Admittedly, these are not very NME-friendly artists, being a bit more on the rock/metal end of the spectrum.
These artists are also very American (except for Gallows, of course, who are just back from their US tour, where they were even supported by Rise Against in Chicago; told you you should go, Candy!). And the NME prefers British music. But British music has become a limp, dull, grey piece of shit, populated byGeorge Formby Arctic Monkeys, Klaxons, and other faceless blurg...
That said, this year's NME Awards gave me not one but two reasons to tune in. This is extremely rare.
Back in 1985 or thereabouts a schoolgirl friend of mine (for I was 15 at the time) lent me two records by an artist who still appears to this day on my list of "favourite music". His poetic lyrics set to a caustic solo electric guitar was truly music to my ears.
A few years later, the NME (for I too spent many years in that rite of passage) alerted me and my countryfolk to a band from a small town in Wales. Wales? That was a joke, right? I mean, nothing good comes out of Wales, save for the road to England. But the NME alerted us to this band only to pour scorn upon them. They were the music press's latest whipping boys, a laughing stock, a band that wanted to make one album, get to #1, and split up in a blaze of glory. They cited Public Enemy and Guns N' Roses as influences and sang words such as "I laughed when Lennon got shot" on their debut single, also provocatively titled "Motown Junk". They too would quickly become hugely important to me and are still, to this day, the band I have seen live more than any other.
The former was Billy Bragg; the latter, Manic Street Preachers. Both (at one time, at least) purveyors of lyrics with a message. Both heroes of mine. Both, all these years later, on the same televised music-awards show aimed at a new generation.
Billy Bragg was performing with a relative newcomer to the scene: Kate Nash. For me, seeing Bragg and Nash sing together was a deeply embarrassing affair. Nash writes some of the most horrendous lyrics known to man. She has tried and failed to capture some of the wit and style of The Streets and Lily Allen, but she has ended up sounding like French & Saunders doing a piss-take of that genre. And for Bragg to have fallen for her well-hidden charms is a huge shame in my book. The unholy pair performed a pseudo medley of her hit "Foundation" and his classic "A New England". Oh, why, Lord, why? Kate Nash is a fraudulent cunt, and Bragg must be a fool for not realizing.
And the Manics were given the Godlike Genius award. Yeah, they were godlike geniuses. Once. The year was 1994. The album was The Holy Bible. That's when they were godlike geniuses. After that, it all slowly started to turn to shit, both for them and for those of us who followed them. After getting their award they played some songs. On TV they showed two of these: the epic "Motorcycle Emptiness" from the 1991 debut album; and the fucking godawful "Your Love Alone Is Not Enough" from 2007. These days, even the former sounded shit, slowed down and, seemingly, played in a slightly lower key, reducing its power considerably. Both the NME and the Manics seem happy to sweep their previous incompatibilities under the rug of history. I am not so forgetful.
What do people say: "You can never go back"? Yeah, I think that sounds about right.
The NME, for those who don't know, is a music paper. It's been around for decades and is a rite of passage for any teenager into music that is a little non-mainstream. It is, traditionally, the champion of the "indie" spirit; or at least it was, back when there were other weekly music papers. Now it's something of a loner out there in printed-medium land.
I am long since past the age of the target audience of the NME, and the lineups of nominees served to emphasize that. They also served to emphasize my feeling that British music is in a horrendous state. I still listen to music every day. (By "listen to music", I mean music that I choose, not simply what bombards me from the radio or some other passive means.) Much of the music I choose is new, too. In recent months, the wife and I have bought albums by Coheed & Cambria, Gallows, and The Used and have downloaded tracks by acts such as Atreyu. Admittedly, these are not very NME-friendly artists, being a bit more on the rock/metal end of the spectrum.
These artists are also very American (except for Gallows, of course, who are just back from their US tour, where they were even supported by Rise Against in Chicago; told you you should go, Candy!). And the NME prefers British music. But British music has become a limp, dull, grey piece of shit, populated by
That said, this year's NME Awards gave me not one but two reasons to tune in. This is extremely rare.
Back in 1985 or thereabouts a schoolgirl friend of mine (for I was 15 at the time) lent me two records by an artist who still appears to this day on my list of "favourite music". His poetic lyrics set to a caustic solo electric guitar was truly music to my ears.
A few years later, the NME (for I too spent many years in that rite of passage) alerted me and my countryfolk to a band from a small town in Wales. Wales? That was a joke, right? I mean, nothing good comes out of Wales, save for the road to England. But the NME alerted us to this band only to pour scorn upon them. They were the music press's latest whipping boys, a laughing stock, a band that wanted to make one album, get to #1, and split up in a blaze of glory. They cited Public Enemy and Guns N' Roses as influences and sang words such as "I laughed when Lennon got shot" on their debut single, also provocatively titled "Motown Junk". They too would quickly become hugely important to me and are still, to this day, the band I have seen live more than any other.
The former was Billy Bragg; the latter, Manic Street Preachers. Both (at one time, at least) purveyors of lyrics with a message. Both heroes of mine. Both, all these years later, on the same televised music-awards show aimed at a new generation.
Billy Bragg was performing with a relative newcomer to the scene: Kate Nash. For me, seeing Bragg and Nash sing together was a deeply embarrassing affair. Nash writes some of the most horrendous lyrics known to man. She has tried and failed to capture some of the wit and style of The Streets and Lily Allen, but she has ended up sounding like French & Saunders doing a piss-take of that genre. And for Bragg to have fallen for her well-hidden charms is a huge shame in my book. The unholy pair performed a pseudo medley of her hit "Foundation" and his classic "A New England". Oh, why, Lord, why? Kate Nash is a fraudulent cunt, and Bragg must be a fool for not realizing.
And the Manics were given the Godlike Genius award. Yeah, they were godlike geniuses. Once. The year was 1994. The album was The Holy Bible. That's when they were godlike geniuses. After that, it all slowly started to turn to shit, both for them and for those of us who followed them. After getting their award they played some songs. On TV they showed two of these: the epic "Motorcycle Emptiness" from the 1991 debut album; and the fucking godawful "Your Love Alone Is Not Enough" from 2007. These days, even the former sounded shit, slowed down and, seemingly, played in a slightly lower key, reducing its power considerably. Both the NME and the Manics seem happy to sweep their previous incompatibilities under the rug of history. I am not so forgetful.
What do people say: "You can never go back"? Yeah, I think that sounds about right.
Labels: atreyu, award shows, billy bragg, coheed and cambria, gallows, guns n' roses, john lennon, kate nash, lily allen, manic street preachers, music, nme, public enemy, the streets
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