If I am subjected to that awful “In for the Kill” song by La Roux on the radio again, I think I may actually end up scream at a glass-shattering pitch. Not that you’d be able to notice. It’d be aurally invisible against that hackle-raising atrocity. My God, that woman’s blood-curdling, dentist’s drill of a screech! And that God-awful parping backing track! It’s the aural equivalent of a cretinous hen-party, fuelled by too much WKD. Or being half way through a rudimentary computer game and having your mum hollering up the stairs to tell you your chicken kievs are ready. That is not so much my idea of a dizzying pop thrill, so much as a bloody flustering nightmare.
Is it just me? Am I just getting old? Surely not. I was always at the very thudding pulse of popular culture. You''d have thought I'd still be at least little bit hip with the kids. But others must actually really like that La Roux din, as I believe the song is currently residing at number 2 of the hit parade. So maybe popular culture has moved on without me? Well – y’know what kids? You can keep all your vacuous nonsense. From this point I am positively vacating your space. If anyone wants me, I’m off to buy up all of Del Amitri’s back catalogue. What’s that? You’ve never heard of them? Well, they’re like an more left-field version of Scouting For Girls. From the 80’s. And no, they’re not very cool, or exciting. Not even ironically so. But at least they offer some solace from you and your bloody ringtone charts!
