Yeah, I’d Probably Shoot You If I Had The Chance.

There are those who firmly sit still in our record collection who we adore and, probably, always will adore. Then again, there are those who we despise and would never dream of adding to our personal tastes. However, this is not always for musical reasons. Whether it’s for their public persona, stage attitude or just because they don’t quite agree with us, we all have someone who we hate. Here’s a few of my choices to get the ball rolling.

Robbie Williams – Ah, there’s nothing like the worthwhile experience of buying a Robbie Williams ticket, enduring the company of middle-aged women at the venue and then having to do all of Robbie’s work for him. Money well spent, i’m sure. I’ve always judged Williams to be guilty of such gimmicks as getting the crowd to sing his songs, as well as being a sanctimonious, overrated and bad Elvis impersonator.

Phil Collins – Round headed little tosser who is probably only more widely known following his Genesis days due to the gorilla cadbury’s advert and for doing the soundtrack for Disney’s Tarzan. Yet, he still self proclaims himself the ‘best drummer of all time’, a title that is still vastly disputed through divided opinions. Away with you, Collins. Bill Bailey had the right idea. Flog him in the same boat as Donny Tourette and Chris De Burgh.

Lady Gaga – When she’s not copying her music, looks and dances from Madonna and Kyle Minogue, she’s posting pointless instagram links of herself Facebook. “Oooh, look at me. I’m not wearing makeup, thus, I’m a normal person”. If only her personality reached the sky high limits set by her record sales and, tragically, her enormous fan base.

Axl Rose – It seems that the world has finally lost patience with Axl Rose. No longer the care free, head bandana wearing rock ‘n’ roller, but a demanding drama queen adamant on starting shows late and changing after every song. To us, the Guns ‘n’ Roses name is virtually no more, and has never reached any of the limits set by their glory days. Perhaps Roses jealousy and petulance stems from their bitter rivalry with Nirvana, the grunge band that made Axl Rose and co look like a second rate American High school garage rock band. All in all, Axl is like a very unlikable Mario Balotelli.

Fred MacPherson – I don’t mind Spector’s music, nor to I mind their style or emanation. What I do mind is, however, their lead singer. Whether it’s his bewildering and cringing sense of humour or his self idolisation of himself being ‘the front man’, I just don’t know. What is odd, though, is his over amplifying denial that Spector sound anything like The Vaccines. In fact, taking it to the next level, by mocking The Vaccines. I hate to be the bearer of bad new, Fred, but you sound a lot like The Vaccines.

Grace Jones – Alright, we get it. You’re weird. You like hula hooping during performances at looking a little bit like a black Morrisey. The whole androgynous look and new wave catapult thing is not conventional of a sixty-four year old woman. I appreciate that you look good for your age and you’re a fashion icon and everything, but please, at least start acting a bit like your age. Don’t be a Madonna. Read a book or something. Take up knitting, arrange flowers, the list is endless.

Dappy – I don’t really understand how Dappy became famous. All he does is flaunt a lusty appetite for misogyny and anti-social behaviour and wear a silly hat. In fact, in the 1950’s, Dappy would probably be considered to be quite suburban with his behaviour towards women. A slap here for this, another slap here for that. Also, since when did talking loudly constitute the ability to sing? I cannot wait for the day when I walk into WHSmith and Dappy is sitting behind the counter chewing gun and listening to his iPod. All I have to do is think of a ludicrous problem for him to sort out for me when the time comes.

Donny Tourette – As I mentioned earlier, Bill Bailey knew what to do with the likes of Patrick Brannon, better known as Donny Tourette. To quote Mr Bailey, Tourette is as “punk as Enya”. And quite right he is too. Long mod hair, skinny white jeans, singing about cocaine and freelance adultery. Please. If I wanted to hear the prepubescent whining and subconscious repressions of a now, edging on middle-aged man, I’d listen to a Lionel Richie record. Punk? You don’t know the meaning of the word.

Morrissey – I love his music, I love his legacy and I love his poetry. Sadly though, the fact is undeniable. The man is a miserable old bastard. I recently watched his interview on Friday Night With Jonathan Ross and his overwhelming tales of self-affliction and despondency was insufferable. “Oh, I don’t have man friends, Jonathan”. Shut up, Morrisey. You’re one of the most celebrated and followed singers of our time, and you feel lonely. Self loathing was cool back in the ’80’s, but not it’s just strange.

Simon Cowell – The arch nemesis of all that is food, the creator of pure production pop evil, and unmistakable wizard of toss. Yes, Simon Cowell has been bringing us the shoddy garbage of reality talent show television since October 2001. Even before then, he was producing the likes of Westlife and Sinitta, whilst hiding his impression man tits and keeping a nice Michael Owen-esque box shape to his head. He’s made millions, he had all the beautiful women and he’s made starts of people such as Leona Lewis and Alexandra Burke. Yes, hate is a strong word. In relation to Simon Cowell, i’m going to have to think of something a little stronger.

Let us know the celebrities you hate on http://www.sparksite.co.uk tonight (5th of July) at 7:00pm!


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History Makers, Legends Of Our Time And Possibly The Greatest Footballing Side Ever?

It’s finally happened. Spain, the Iberian giants, have rewritten footballing history by winning three consecutive major titles and retaining the European Championship crown. After a rampant and professional victory against the Italians, have the Spanish finally displaced the ‘boring’ label that has followed their football and have they joined the footballing greats?

Well, for a start, sundays final was nowhere near boring. The precise inter-play and poetic passing of Spain eased on to the path of glory once again, following a more than successful four year stint of epitomising world football, by being ranked number one in the world. Armed with the a squad made up of some of the most illustrious and talented players in the world, such as Xavi Hernandez, Andres Iniesta, Xavi Alonso and Sergio Ramos, to name a few, the Spanish have finally marked another record on the football bible.

Yet, all the individual talent and cross-national divides in domestic football, the team shows no mass of ego or reliance on others. They simply work as a team and depend on each other to keep the function and cognition of the team moving, mechanically seeking and accomplishing the goals they set themselves. Vicente Del Bosque plays the ‘brains’ of the operation. And, after what he has shown us throughout Euro 2012 in Poland and Ukraine, a brave role at that. Having played with no strikers for most of the tournament, whilst having the likes of certified marksmen such as Fernando Llorente, Fernando Torres, Pedro, Jesus Navas and Alvaro Negredo, all sitting on the bench, Del Bosque sported tremendous faith and critic resilience in his tactics and his midfield.

Spain have the players, the manager and the silky, delicate style football that gives them their identity on the world stage. But are they up there with the greats? Could they match the great 1970’s Brazil squad or the German side of the same decade. Would they be beaten by the fiery France squad who threatened to match the efforts of Spain between 1998 and 2000? In my opinion, and from what we have seen over the past four years, they are up there with the best. They could beat the best. And, certainly now, they are the best footballing side in history.

I watched sundays final and I can honestly say I’ve never seen football like it. Even by Spain’s standards it was sublime. The movement of the players, the interchanges in space, the quick two-touch lay-offs, the skill in the ball, the unity and the tactical awareness of the players seemed almost determined. Each Spanish player walked out of the tunnel and knew exactly what they have to do. After all, competitively, Spain tend not to lose. There have been the odd slip ups, like the one-nil defeat they shockingly suffered against Switzerland in the 2010 World Cup in South Africa. Italy, who had a surprisingly good tournament under the admirable and proud Cesare Prandelli, seemed as disposable as any other team in the tournament who faced Spain, despite the stalemate that met the teams in their group opener of the competition. During the final, Spain simply neutralised the peerless Andrea Pirlo and tied a leash around Italian bulldog Balotelli, taking Italy’s main threats out of the game.

Can we expect more trophies from Spain? Absolutely. With the World Cup in Brazil just around the corner, only one team will really be on the lips of the spectators. I have to say, I had my doubts over Spain coming into this tournament. Ironically, I thought there performance against Italy in the opening match of their group was rather lackluster and ‘un-Spanish-like’ compared to how well they’ve played on the international level. I found it bemusing how they played with no striker and expected to get goals. An idea that lead to the mass labeling of ‘boring’ possession football. I had my money on the Germans doing the business, but yet again, despite playing some decent football themselves, they have since undergone the ‘Andy Murray effect’ in major international tournaments and only achieve semi-final places.

Even more astoundingly, Spain seem to reproduce more elusive and captivating talents to replace the legends they have already birthed. Jordi Alba, for instance, slots perfectly into the squad adding pace, elegance and skill to the teams qualities. One must remember that spain were missing two of their greatest sons throughout the tournament, with solid centre-half Carlos Puyol and David Villa, Spain’s record goal scorer, both missing out due to injury. Yet, Spain still went on to win their third consecutive international title. If England were to miss some of their stars, which we in fact were missing through our European campaign, we would resign ourselves to defeat, again, which we did do. Spain, however, just slot players of equal quality into the mould of their conspiracy and team equilibrium.

Perhaps that’s the difference between Spain and the rest of the world. Amongst their individual talent, they value a team talent above each other. “There is no ‘I’ in team” has never sounded so prolific.

No team has ever played the game better than Spain. And, for now, I cannot see a team who will ever play the game better.

La Furia Roja. The Red Fury. Remember the name.