What a bunch of James Blunts we have in the world. I don’t mean cunts (ooh dropped the C bomb so early on – don’t alienate readers Jake), I mean James Blunts. Mopey fucking idiots who would write entire albums if they could on the tiny little things in their life that inconvenience them.
“You’re beautiful, it’s true. I saw your face in a crowded place, and I don’t know what to do cos I’ll never be with you”. Oh fuck right off JAMES. You’ve just seen this girl in the street and you’re already writing three verses, a bridge and a chorus about how desperately you want to get into her pants while at the same time you’re moaning that you’ll never be with her. Firstly she might not want to be with you, you fucking musical jack the ripper, and secondly she might be just as much of a fucking moron. So how do you know she deserves the effort you’ve put into this 2004 meloncholy medley of stalkerisms. You disgust me James Blunt. And all the James Blunts out there who complain about things they haven’t even attempted to rectify or engage with. Did James Blunt try to speak to this mysterious beauty? No! Was it because he was too high? Probably! Can I relate? Yes! But that’s beside the point because when I’ve been too high to talk to women in the past I haven’t then gone on to write a (annoyingly) number 1 hit single (fuck you Blunt).
Maybe that’s what I’m doing wrong though. Maybe James Blunt is right. Maybe I should start writing songs about the insignificant irritations in my life. There is a serious gap in the market for songs about consistently missing out on three meals a day.
“You’re malnourished. You’re malnourished. You’re malnourished, it’s true. I can see your bones. As your stomach groans. you should really eat some food, and put on a pound or two”.
Or a song about my rent-paying worries.
“Goodbye, my income. Goodbye my friends, I can’t a-fford to, I can’t a-fford to go out”.
No, those problems are too real for shitty, repeatitive pop songs. I need to write songs about forgetting to take a jacket out when you leave the house during the afternoon, only for your return journey in the evening to be slightly chillier and you regret not bringing a jacket even though you’d have been inconvenienced with carrying the jacket during the hot times but then you wouldnt be so cold now Jake on this chilly walk home so who is the idiot now.
Ahem. Anyway my point is clearly that people complain too much. I hope my complaint about that has been heard.
Jake Pickford 