by Ryan Meehan
Very simple approach here: The following artists are repeat offenders when it comes to the constant rape of the airwaves. And since the entertainment industry has no “three strikes and you’re out” rule, I’m left to dish out the sentences.
1. Lady Gaga
Brooklyn, New York (Yeah Fucking Right)
Let’s get one thing out of the way before we discuss Lady Gaga any further: That’s a guy. I don’t give a fuck what her bio says or any of that nonsense, that’s a dude. Period.
Lady Gaga has been embraced by the LBGT community due to her outspoken support of gay marriage and equal rights, as well as that enormous lump in her throat. Which is fantastic and all, but it’s not exactly great company. It’s the same community that also embraced Cascada, Diana Ross, and Liberace. (Whose untimely death I’m assuming had nothing to do with his lifestyle)
Example: “Bad Romance”
This is a perfect example of a Lady Gaga song because it sounds pretty much identical to “Poker Face” and anything else on the first record. At least with “Poker Face” I could kind of tell what the song was about: A young transvestite that was never able to perfect her craft moving out West to pursure her dreams of being a professional card player. (That’s what I’m assuming it’s about)
Her music doesn’t really have a lot to it. It’s mostly a lot of doctored up vocals and square synths, with no real deep meaning. But as long as she continues to shower her stupid fans with plenty of affection for putting up for this audio assault, she’ll be in the news due to her ridiculous outfits that take up way too much space in our modern media.
Plus, if you wanted to go gay, why not just go see the Titte Brothers? I hear the teeter totter act is amazing…
Sentence: Nothing that I could sentence Lady Gaga to is going to change the unfortunate noises that end up on the tape. But I’m still going to go with “Death” anyway.
2. Insane Clown Posse
This is kind of a no brainer. It’s widely known amongst the music community that ICP sells cliothing, not music. I’d be willing to bet that 75% of their revenue is clothing sales. Very little of what they sell is music. Make no bones about it, ICP is a cleverly disguised clothing company. And a bad one at that.
Here’s a few things that I’ve noticed about ICP’s fans from working in retail:
A) They don’t tend to be very smart.
B) They seem to get a lot of tattoos in visible areas that are done very poorly.
C) They obviously listen to shitty music.
But by far the most interesting one of all:
D) They seem to be sexually attracted to other people who look like clowns. – Seriously. The next time you see a pack of these jackoffs I guarantee you you’ll know exactly what I’m talking about. And the funny thing is they don’t even need to wear makeup to look like that. And that’s horrifying because just the thought of having sex with a clown is enough to make my dick commit suicide.
Example: “Halls of Illusions”
I read an interview with these guys one time where they claimed that they used such graphic imagery to get their listeners to do the right thing and believe in God, they just wouldn’t come out and say it because “nobody would pay attention”. So they use that imagery to preach peace and goodwill to their listeners. Here’s a line from this song:
“Back to reality, you’re son’s on crack, and you’re daughter’s got nut stains on her back…and they both fuckin’ smell like shit…and live in the gutter and sell crack to each other…”
Interesting way of putting it…I can totally hear “Love thy neighbor” in that if I smoke a shitload of Xanax and drink every cleaning product I have under my sink.
This choice also includes everybody on this label. I could have this entire list being composed of Psychopathic Records artists. I just don’t want to name any of them because I don’t think they’re deserving of the very little publicity this article may (or may not) generate. From what I understand this is very much a Midwest thing, and you will find almost next to no ICP fans on either coast.
Sentence: Put out two albums without any accompanying wardrobe. And be the first hip hop act to perform from the inside of an active volcano.
3. Hollywood Undead
Los Angeles, California (Bet you couldn’t see that coming)
On HU’s wikipedia page, it lists their genres as follows: Rap-rock, rapcore, and crunkcore. Rap-rock is not exactly my favorite made-up genre of music. But rapcore? What the fuck is that? When did we all of a sudden feel the need to attach the word “core” to everything? Want to laugh hysterically at something? Here’s a list of the stage names of the band members: Charlie Scene, Da Kurlzz, Danny, Funny Man, J-Dog, and Johnny 3 Tears. Charlie Scene? That’s the weakest shit I’ve ever heard in my life. #notwinning Was “Phillip Emo” already taken? How about “Chiefer Sutherland”? Get the fuck out of here.
And what does “Undead” exactly mean anyway? That one is alive? It just means that you’re not dead. (And in this situation that’s incredibly unfortunate) Saying something is undead is another one of those zero statements. Just call it “Hollywood”. No need for the excess verbage.
Example: Every song off every record, even the ones that haven’t been released yet.
I’m not too terribly familiar with their music, but I do know that they wear masks. Here’s the thing with having a gimmick: If you have one, it better be YOUR gimmick. You can’t just rip Gwar or Slipknot’s gimmick and not expect anybody to notice. Both of those bands are wildly successful and anybody who gets on stage in masks is going to draw instant comparisons to them. Or Kiss. Or Slade. (Would you like me to keep going?) To be famous you used to at least have to be good at something. These guys make Wang Chung in 2006 look like Led Zeppelin in 1971.
The only cool thing that could happen here would be for someone to come out of the woodwork and say that they were in a band in the 80s with the same name, and then the FOH court could order them to change their name to “Hollywood Dead” and politely inform them that if they didn’t kill each other the state would press charges for fraud.
Sentence: Life with no parole in a cell that plays Insane Clown Posse 24/7. All six of them in the same cell, too. (But look at the bright side guys…then you can be “Prisoncore”!!!)
I know what you’re thinking: Jewel’s still around? Oh fuck yes she is. Anyone who works in retail could tell you that. She’s the queen of that “safe music” that plays in every department store in America. Jewel’s music is kind of like getting a handjob from someone who really, really doesn’t want to give you a handjob.
There’s a line in this song that says “In the end…only kindness matters…” All criminals should take note of this and rob this woman’s tour bus. And when her “security guards” and running after you, just yell “Only kindness matters!!!” If the guy keeps chasing after you, keep running, but if he stops, I’d definitely head back to that fucking bus and grab everything that’s in there at knifepoint. The chorus in this one is where she says” My hands are small I know, but they’re not yours they are my own…” like we’re supposed to give a shit how big her hands are. We all know Lady Gaga’s hands are small because she’s able to tuck that fucker with such accuracy everytime the assholes who produce the Grammys call on her to perform.
When Jewel came out with a poetry book I couldn’t stop laughing. Then I realized that I didn’t have a book deal and started crying until my parents threatened to enlist me in the Army. My only regret about mentioning Jewel is that my teeth are starting to go bad so I can’t make fun of hers. And I can’t stop thinking about the scene in Forrest Gump where his girlfriend is playing the guitar naked in front of all of those rowdy guys. Jewel should have never stopped being the house act at a club like that and none of this would have been an issue.
While researching Jewel I realized that she got extremely lucky in her ascent to whatever the fuck it is that you would call what she’s doing now. She met Flea after a gig and the next thing you know Atlantic Records was paying for her to record a demo. And then she recorded most of her first album on Neil Young’s ranch. The rest of her work is full of collaborations with other famous artists that must have seen something in her that we certainly don’t, but in all fairness they get better drugs out there.
Sentence: First and foremost, go to the dentist. Admit that you were never really a poor hippie chick and that your father is actually one of Alaska’s richest oil tycoons. Then we get to bury you up to your head in the ground and decapititate you with a riding lawn mower. Kind of defeats the purpose of the dentist visit, but sometimes when you get a quarter-pound you’ve got to throw away a few seeds.
5. Mariah Carey
Hunington, New York
This woman got way too much attention from day one. I’m assuming that it had a little to do with the fact that she was half-black, let’s not kid ourselves. There’s just no other way. Of course, most of it would be due to the fact that she had an eight octave vocal range. But the more you think about it, who gives a shit? That’s another huge problem with society: We are constantly amazed by people doing things that don’t matter. Look at the Guiness Book of World Records and all of the nonsense that’s in there. Even the guy who smoked the most cigarettes at a time: What the fuck does that prove exactly? Mariah Carey is the same way…that high register stuff is annoying as hell and unless it’s a hammer or someone’s head, I’m not impressed by anything that can break glass, especially not somebody’s voice.
Everyone whose ever used a sequencing program knows that by the time you get up past C7 pretty much all of the noises are inaudible up around that range anyway. It’s like Mariah uses a special kind of microphone that insists on kicking the laws of physics right in the stomach. Now if we could just get it to be her stomach, maybe we’d have something there.
Another one of those “safe” songs that young, urban teens can listen to and still be considered hip but at the same time middle aged white women can buy bras to. Those sagging titties are a euphemism for what her career should have become, had America not ended up full of a bunch of tone-deaf bottom feeders with no taste. Music is allowed to make you feel good, but there has to be a line in the sand somewhere.
Mariah is another perfect example of the whole “It’s not just who you know, it’s who you blow” theory…she latched onto CBS record executive Tommy Mottola almost instantly, and her mouth being crammed with his wrinkly old cock led to us hearing her bullshit on the radio every eleven minutes. Like we’ve never heard that story before.
Sentence: Mrs. Carey needs to take out an advertisement in every major newspaper apologizing for all but not limited to the following: Illiteracy, Child Abuse, Domestic Violence, Poor Dance Music all across the country, Et Cetera…
Speaking of artists that fucked their way to the top…
6. Celine Dion
Sick yet? Praying for throat cancer? Probably not, because if you’re reading this it’s highly unlikely that you listen to the type of radio station that plays Celine Dion. She was similar to Mariah in that she banged her manager in exchange for promises we all wished would have never came true. And the guy’s name is Renee. What a pussy. With that much money wouldn’t you think he’d at least head over to the DMV to get his name changed. And it would have to be something extremely manly to make up for all of the years he kept that name in the first place. (Suggestions: Optimus Prime, David Duke, Lexington Steele)
Example: “My Heart Will Go On” from Titanic
First of all, that movie sucks shit. Anybody who constantly feels the need to blur the line between fiction and non fiction is useless to society. Second, this is a perfect example of one of Celine’s songs because it’s so overdramatic and drawn out. There’s no reason for this song to be over 90 seconds, and it’s well over five minutes. The funny thing about the title of this song is that your heart is the one thing that doesn’t go on. In fact, a lot of times your heart is the first thing that dies. Especially if you’re an “adult contemporary” artist. “You’re here…there’s nothing I fear”…Does that include drowning? Did she even get to see the end of that movie?
I’d rather listen to the last Helen Keller album than Celine’s music. (Plus, “DDDDEEEUUUUUUUUURHHHHHHH!!!!” is one of my favorite singles of all time) I guess the fact that she’s ended up in Vegas is a good thing…She was never anything more than a lounge act to begin with so it’s only fitting she ends up where almost all lounge singers go to die.
Celine has her own Vegas show now. She was able to finally have a baby, which is great news for her and her husband but horrible news for the nanny that has to change that diaper. Could you imagine everytime knowing that you’re disposing of something that has more credibility than Mom’s entire career? And how has it managed to fly under the radar that she’s a razor thin skeleton who’s suffered from an eating disorder for the better part of two decades? Somebody get this bitch something other than a salad. Seriously…
Sentence: Having to live in Las Vegas without getting to be a heroin addict and having to suck some guy’s dick that’s in his seventies would usually be punishment enough in this case. I say for the kid’s tenth birthday party they have Celine on one of those rotating wheels they have in the Vegas magic shows and bring the kid onstage while they have one of those professional knife throwers get up there and go apeshit. Here’s the catch: at the last minute replace the pro with some random lunatic that you pull off of the strip who’s been up for weeks. You can imagine your own ending here, I know I’ve got a few favorites myself.
This was Hillbloom’s idea. Notice how I didn’t put the dollar sign in her name: Some people don’t deserve the punctuation. I guess I forgot Kesha because she’s never really done anything legitimate and her career doesn’t span decades like some of these other shit eaters. Besides, she’ll be blowing homeless guys in a matter of months from now.
Sentence: Heard her new track and it’s pure facefucking material and nothing else. So that’ll work for me if it’s cool with all of the “Take Back The Night” people.
Also one of Hillbloom’s ideas. The only reason I’m going to keep Rihanna off of the original list is the fact that “Umbrella” is actually a very well written song, they just really picked the wrong person to sing it. But the rest of her stuff is hot garbage and dumpster juice. (We’ll get into how I feel about R & B music in a later article)
Sentence: Hang out with white people? But for what period of time? This is harder than I thought.
It was at least managable when Lil’ Wayne was trolling around with those assholes in the Cash Money Millionairres because at the time he was young and everybody just assumed he was going to disappear as soon as most of those guys died. Sadly he didn’t, and he ended up producing a whole bunch of music shortly before going to prison. Two other things that I can’t stand about Lil’ Wayne are as follows: 1) The face Tattoos, and 2) The fact that he infiltrates ESPN2 every other month trying to be an analyst. I’m not familiar enough with his music to know if he deserves to be on the actual list or not.
Sentence: Lil’ Wayne will be banned from sports television until further notice…And laser removal for every one of the face tats.
Artisits that are not on the list and why:
Any Country Act
Kind of hypocritical to mention the fact that a certain genre gets off easy because it’s doing so well, seeing as how I’m insinuating that record sales don’t mean everything. There are a couple of extremely talented country artists that also write really good songs at the moment. Two that come to mind would be Brad Paisley and Blake Shelton. There are a few exceptions here, and that Lady Antebellum makes me want to order some of those male enhancement pills just so I can grow my dick long enough to choke myself with it, but overall country is in its place and seems to be very comfortable there.
I know it seems criminal to say this, but Nickelback writes catchy music and they know it. They don’t try to be anything they aren’t and you have to at least sort of maybe every once in a while give them credit for that. I don’t want to dig too deep of a hole for myself here, but I can definitely think of a lot of artists I’d rather listen to less than Nickelback.
I understand that these artists all make more money from taking a shit than I will ever see in my entire life, but I don’t care and that fact alone makes them even more full of it. They continue to bombard the airwaves with sub-moronic drivel that makes our unbearable daily lives even worse. (Harris Yulin voice:) I find all of the previous offenders to be guilty on all charges.
More from me on this the next time I’m drinking heavily.
Once again thanks for visiting First Order Historians and enjoying more of the internet’s finest in user generated content.