Thursday, 25 February 2010
John and Edward Grimes - Under Pressure (Ice Ice Baby)
Pardon my French but Chatouillez ma flanelle dans une tour de cloche. After seeing a genuinely good yet unsigned band recently I was unexpectedly in an optimistic mood. That was until, like the Galactic Empire mainstream music struck back; with this tripe that does for music what Irreversible’s fire extinguisher scene did for my mentality (look it up kids). Yes this is John and Edward Grimes’ (I don’t use the portmanteau Jedward because that would indicate I acknowledge their celebrity status) rendition of that ‘timeless classic’ known as ‘Ice Ice Baby’ but in what amounts to curb stomping an injured puppy it amalgamates with Queen’s ‘Under Pressure’. The first single by the poster children for ghetto abortions also features Vanilla Ice reprising his song, and like a maggot infested corpse he has simply become more vomit inducing over time.
One thing I will quickly mention is that I hate this song because it is the lord of the shits and not due to it being the epitome of mainstream music. Frankly I don’t think you can really get more mainstream than the X-Factor…not until Sonic the Hedgehog starts claiming Windows 7 was his idea whilst patting himself on the shoulder with one hand and masturbating in his own pomposity with the other. And besides I think at this juncture we’ve firmly established that I am the least fair Human being to ever plague the planet.
The video is the tackiest thing I have seen since that dressing room for supermodel dogs, which I have completely made up but wouldn’t be phased in the slightest if it turned out to be true. During the opening, the ‘Under Pressure’ section a large sign spells out ‘Jedward’ as if we could ever forget these two morons especially as they flail around with all the mannerisms of a spastic fish. Then penetrating any defence your mind is able to conjure, the song descends into the ‘Ice Ice Baby’ section and the only fathomable way to describe it would be along the lines of a Disney movie set in Harlem. Complete with an ensemble of ‘street dancers’ the duo attempt to rap while dressed like matching bellends who dance in the style of a tourette's sufferer having a seizure and a tramp with an angry Bee stuck in his pants.
Despite John and Edward utilizing two different styles, i.e. wailing and rapping there is about as much variety here as there is colours in a tailor’s specialising in robes for the Ku Klux Klan. Perhaps because Vanilla Ice clearly plagiarised Queen and David Bowie’s song(i.e. one sung by two amazing vocalists), switching between the two seems to have the effect of utilizing a cardboard box bomb shelter in the epicentre of a nuclear attack…but the latter would admittedly be less painful. And it doesn’t help that they have all the talent of a disabled dog and share rapping skills with your average white Anglo-Saxon protestant holding down a job in middle management.
An appropriate line to quote from the song would have to be “It’s the terror of knowing what this World is about” because knowing that out the millions of sperm the one that confected these two was the fastest doesn’t help my tapering sympathy for mankind. Just to put this out there but the terrible twins are clearly the bastard offspring of snap crackle and pop with a hint of Peter Pan. John and Edward to their credit manage the incredible feat of making Vanilla Ice appear cool which is as difficult as a blind man trying to complete a colouring book with just his elbows and not go over the lines. Overall the song sounds as the sort of remix that you would hear playing in a disco for retards, an establishment where when you buy a pint you receive a free pair of swimming bands so you don’t fucking drown.
At three minutes and forty-three seconds long it feels as though it is a Spanish Inquisition era torture and I shall be writing to Geneva requesting the song be banned under the Geneva Convention. How diminished does your fucking intelligence quotient and sense of dignity have to fucking be for you to not only enjoy this song, but for you to also buy it? And if you’re that retarded why not go sit in the middle of Highway 401 and play with a bleeding weebel. Seriously for the next UK census it should be mandatory for the population to reveal whether they bought this single or not, and those that have will be bundled into military trucks, processed into dog food and the remains be fed to the homeless. And who says I’m not charitable.