ok.
recently, all of us in the music industry, were saddened to hear the news of the death of, well...one of the bee gees. i dunno which one. don't really give a shit. rot you fuck. that said, er, rot. anyhoo, at the time i believe the hilarious comedian graham norton made some joke about the death, inevitably using the words "staying alive" or something. one of the surviving bee gees (think it was the ugly one that doesn't look like a lion...) then appeared on morning tv saying that if he met mr norton he would rip his head off. or something. ooh scary. thus mr norton made a grovelling apology when what he should have done was made a formal statement declaring his only regret to be that he hadn't done his nightly show live from the fuck's death bed. in hysterics.
i am no great fan of the bee shits; i mean i do love the opening lyrics to "staying alive": "well you can tell by the way i use my walk, i'm a womans man no time to talk" - thats genius. you can't argue with that. but apart from that one glimmer of thought, its all piss. a constant peddling of the latest version of their greatest hits, performed with ever more fragile screeching harmonies. "timeless pop classics". but the crowning needle in my ear is the knowledge that they sit around preening their beards whilst their lawyers and accountants handle the royalties from yet another piss awful cover version recorded by some fucks. in recent years every single shit dire piss weak love song of immense sincerity seems to have originally been spawned from their beardy screeching orifices. sung by four/five spineless cocks to an audience of wet 14 yr old girls and a week at number one thank you very much. "timeless pop classics". the bee shits lining up in turn to suck at mammons cock, as it spews its filthy, corrosive sex wee (thanks mark) down their throats. they could have said, "we really do regret these awful cover versions, and we'd rather they hadn't been recorded at all. even the banging trance one, whose name escapes us at the moment"; but no, they were too busy choking as millions of pound and dollar signed sperm wriggled their way down into their innards.
worthless shits. for me, they're up there with abba on the "alltime cancerous shits of pop" list. soon to be joined by whoever.
on the plus side of things, i guess all this mammon suckage provided for a lavish funeral for the dead bee gee. and already they're pumping out more copies of the latest version of their greatest hits. ker-ching! as one bee gee dies, he increases the wealth of the surviving bee cocks thru inheritance and increased cd sales. keel...ker-ching!.....keel.....KER-CHING! thus in turn each bee gee will have a more extravagant funeral. the funeral of the last bee gee will the most incredible spectacle the world has ever seen. giant pyramids will be built on the sites of their corpses. mount rushmore will be altered to show the faces of the true heroes of america - bearded orifices agape in screeching harmony. the coastline of each continent will be cut to resemble one of the soulless pop kings. all will wear beards and affect a high voice. etc.
the only good i can see in this, is the last bee gee acting like a true divine majesty and ordering that his servants are buried with him and that on top of this he would like to spend eternity with the worlds greatest musical minds and thus when the great tomb is sealed the only sound that will be heard (beyond the wailing grief) will be the sound of paul "i am the biggest piece of shit the world has ever seen" mccartney banging on the door of the inner sanctum and screaming to be let out.