Pop Music

New York, London, Paris, Munich everybody talk about mmmm, that’s right pop pickers this weeks theme is all about pop, pop, pop music.

With the invention of the teenager in the 1950’s came the creation of the parent saying “What’s this rubbish?”. Though a little know made up fact is, at the very same time Bill Haley rocked us around the analog time piece, another form of being was on the rise. And as the charts became more and more about the popular vote and the majority of young people having a good time, this new social group fell in rank and file to express their views with smug expression.

That’s right, with the explosion of the pop music scene came the meteoric rise of the pretentious twat. A social class that, like pop culture, is still around to this very day.

Before pop, pretentious twats were just pretentious. They huddled together writing poetry and classic literatur, living the life a drunk with money with only the occasional witty riposte to make a social comment or patronise others for using a tautology.

With pop music the pretentious evolved, becoming more and more twatish as the years rolled on. Their refusal to listen to anything ‘popular’ moved them further and further away from the people they so wished to condescend until, they themselves became the joke.

The self imposed exile has stopped them being exposed to great moments in writing, one of the very things they hold dear. Such great poetic works like ABBAs sinister “The day before you came” or the subversive version of “Tainted Love” by Soft Cell.

Throughout the history of pop you can find some outstand examples of poetic writings, “Neon on my naked skin, passing silhouettes of strange illuminated mannequins” - ‘Big in Japan’ Alphaville; “Beauty I’d always missed, with these eyes before. Just what the truth is, I can't say anymore” - ‘Nights in White Satin’ Moody Blues and of course, “You ain’t nothing but a Hound Dog, Cryin’ all the time” - ‘Hound Dog’ Elvis Presley.

Behind every single one of these records is a fantastic wordsmith and musician. Sometimes the performer is that creative genius, and sometimes it’s not however, the performer is usually of equal talent, though I must admit this is not always the case. And I do understand not all pop music displays flashes for pure art, some of it is quite puerile but, if like the pretentious twats, you close yourself off to it, you’ll never seen the diamond in the shit.

All art is art, and you are allowed to like things that sometimes you shouldn’t. These are our guilty pleasures. I think it’s ok to be pretentious because what’s the point of opening yourself up to all the beauty in the world if you can’t lord it over someone who thinks Dan Brown is a great writer from time to time. It’s the twat bit that holds people back. Open your mind to things without having a preconceived idea because someones else has already labeled it for you.

So turnaround bright eyes, it a mad world out there and ask yourself, are you ready for this jelly?