Talent in a Previous Life

Because It's Never Just About the Music

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.