Baltazar

By pop music I mean the whole lot -- except Jilted John and Blondie. I’ve always hated it, those who listen to it, and the culture -- youth culture -- which spawns it. I loathe the big record companies, three chords repeated over and over, Top of the Pops, and Paul McCartney. Bob Geldoff is the biggest tit in the universe and Sting should be muzzled. Don’t even mention his wife. Black music obsessed with guns, burning homosexuals and calling women ‘bitches’ would be a disgrace if it didn’t show what small penises the artists have, while music glorifying illegal drugs has helped destroy whole nations, such as Colombia and Peru, and keeps generations of drug gangsters on the streets.

There.

I’ve said it.

That feels better.

But I’m genuinely here to learn, not to wind up, troll, or as an attention-seeking exercise. All my friends laugh at my ignorance, my prejudices harm no one except me -- I’m missing out on some major art -- and I’m fed up with being stuck in a classical music ghetto. Also I loved John Peel. He was such a great bloke he must have been right about something.

Plus my ignorance puts me in bed with people who, arguably, are bigger twats than Sting: retired colonels harumphing about the ‘youth of today,’ Murdoch journalists wanking about gangsta rap, and tweedy Young Fogies who dislike pop music only because they weren’t allowed in the cool gang at school.

Where’s the best place to start? I don’t want to go out and buy a Cher album. I’ve seen her in films, she’s clearly a good egg, but when she opens her mouth to sing I feel my spirits drop and the cat runs from the room.

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crying all the way to the chip shop