Talent in a Previous Life

Because It's Never Just About the Music

Monday, June 30, 2003

(Bra) Come Undone 

An update on yesterday’s Robbie story. An acquaintance of mine actually went to the gig on Saturday, I used to consider him a friend, but I have downgraded him as a result of this. He has informed me that Robbie was excellent. This is surprising, not only due to the use of the word excellent, but because he is also into his metal and is a massive Metallica fan (No, he’s not 14, and yes, I should have downgraded his friend status a long time ago).

Anyway, the point of this, is that he told me that a number of girls, of whom only the epithet ‘classy’ can be applied, took advantage of the occasion to take their tops off and flash their boobs, this was captured by the no doubt sweaty and salivating cameraman and projected onto the big screens. As far as I can tell, the only result of this was to double the number of tits that the audience could see.

Sunday, June 29, 2003

Knobby Williams 

OK, so it’s not exactly a subtle headline, but what it lacks in wit, it more than makes up for in factual accuracy. The reason for this seemingly random burst of Robbie hatred (after all, can people really be bothered to even care enough to dislike him now) is because this weekend Robbie is in my city ‘entertaining’ a large number of people, an event that the Edinburgh Evening News considered worthy of having “Robbie Hits Town” as a major story on Friday. While I realise that we live in a much more celebrity obsessed day and age these days, and the definition of what constitutes news has been softened drastically, much in the same way a newspaper is softened by having someone pissing all over it, but is “Man turns up in town to do his job” really worth reporting?

So why my dislike for him? I used to think it was down to his unbearable smugness, but I’ve now realised that it’s not that. It’s the fact that he’s got absolutely nothing to be so smug about. If anything, he should be ashamed with the amount of money he’s managed to acquire given the mediocrity of his talent, but yet people fail to see this. People talk about the fact he’s a cheeky chappy, that he’s a loveable rogue, a great entertainer. And then, as if they weren’t embarrassed enough by the stupidity of what they just said, they go on to say “Ah, but you’ve go to give him Angels, that’s a beautiful song”.

Let’s just focus on that sentence shall we. “Angels, that’s a beautiful song”. The only way that that sentence could ever make sense, is if the words “Only an idiot would say” are put in front of it. Angels is a terrible song, for a start it’s a pop ballad. And pop ballads are the worst sort of music ever. They never speak of what love and heartache is all about, they offer a piss-weak idea of emotions and are so bland and desireless it’s hard to see why they continue to sell in large amounts. Unless it’s because of their bland and emotionless nature, the public are notoriously dull when it comes to their tastes. Musically it’s simplistic, lyrically it’s so trite to be unbelievable. It has no redeeming features whatsoever, and, the minute I am in charge of this country anyone that expresses any sort of positive vibes towards this song will be shot.

And what’s worse is that he doesn’t even bother singing it live! He just turns his microphone towards the audience and lets a tuneless mob destroy what little feeling may have been hidden somewhere deep at the heart of the song. How lazy is that?! After spending a no doubt ridiculous amount of money on the tickets, the crowd shouldn’t be expected to do Robbie’s work for him while he has a quick break and pretends he’s actually some sort of musical god.

Please go away Robbie, and take your “Ooh, it’s so hard being me, oh, but I’m dead great me, but seriously, it’s tough playing the joker all the time, but I love it really, oh and I might be gay” dichotomy with you. Realise that we just don’t care and that people are only buying you out of force of habit. The twats.

Thursday, June 26, 2003

Three Horse Race 

Well, two horses and one gerbil-faced girl. Yes, we are, of course, talking this weeks Big Brother eviction, and the words 'foregone' and 'conclusion' have never been so appropriate, except possibly in the great "Can Rik Waller walk straight past a pie shop without even giving it a passing glance?" debate. So lets all wave bye-bye to Tania, which is a shame as, while she is a shallow self-obsessed person, she does at least provide something to hate, which is my main reason for watching the programme. But, alas, no-one is likely to bother going to the effort of hating Steph, who is my personal choice for eviction this week. She is dull and mumsy, which is a bad thing. Nush, while also being dull, has the advantage of being cute. Which is definitely a plus point now that the lovely Sissy has left the house and my eye-candy has been removed.

So vote out Steph. Personally I'm not going to bother as I have better things to waste my money on that an ultimately pointless phone-call, but if anyone that reads this does then I guarantee that your karma balance will increase by 2 points. And your bank balance will decrease by 25p.

Tuesday, June 24, 2003

Chart Attack 

Sunday, June 22, 2003

Why Does the Flum Whine? 

Hello, and welcome to Talent in a Previous Life. The only place on the web to find the allegedly humourous thoughts and opinions of Flum, well, apart from my old site and the Popjustice Messageboard, but other than that the material here is totally exclusive. And that's not becuase no-one else wants it. Anyone who says that is not only a liar, but is in the posession of underwear that can only be described as 'flaming'.

Some people feel that the internet is a forum for the free exchange of thoughts and ideas, leading to a greater level of communication between different cultures, causing a vast improvement in international relations and the eventual creation of a new world order. We, on the other hand, consider it to be useful as an ego-trip and a chance to force our ill-thought out opinions on to others, which is exactly what we'll be doing. Talent in a Previous Life promises to provide no useful content, no unique points of interest and no dull minutae of the writers life. Instead we'll offer poor quality jokes about pop bands, flights of fancy that the generous might describe as surreal, the honest as laboured and, in addition to that, we'll attempt to prick the pomposity of modern public figures using only our wit, which is guaranteed to be at least as sharp as a sphere.

In other words TiaPL will offer much the same sort of content as every other half-arsed person who thinks they're funny enough to write a website. But the difference is that we know we're rubbish, and we've been doing this sort of thing since 1996 so we have experience in being rubbish. Which is the sort of thing that money can't buy. Except that money can buy us, we're very cheap and will happily promote whatever you like for cash. Please e-mail us if you want us to prostrate ourselves for your needs.