2007-01-20 - 6:55 a.m.

Prediction: H From Steps will win Celebrity Big Brother 2007. Mark my words.

I'm on a roll today. Earlier, I was reading an article about Scotch indie band 'The View' in scare-mongering's the Guardian. I had a little bet with myself that the piece would mention that Noel Gallagher was a fan. Sure enough, seven paragraphs in I read this: 'the View have already amassed a catalogue of famous friends that most fledgling indie bands would castrate their drummers for; Noel Gallagher loves them..." If it's not him, it's David Bowie. These two are perpetually hawked up by two-bit hacks in a bizarre attempt to lend credibility to the latest scrofulous jangle-merchants that their rag is hyping. As if I care that Noel Gallagher has grunted his approval. Why should anyone care? Someone could be the greatest song-writer in history and yet still listen to a lot of shit in their spare time. While he's evidently got a lot of spare time, Gallagher is far from greatness. Why should some no-trick savant be held up as an arbiter of taste? Personally, I'd be horrified if Mr Britpop started mumbling the praises of Inflatable Beefcake. I'd know I was doing something wrong. Any artist worth their salt should aim to confound and upset the hegemony, otherwise what's the point? If all you achieve is the unthinking nod of some cultural relic from the past decade, then what does that say about your art?

I don't blame Mr. Gallagher for this. I blame lazy hacks who don't have enough gumption to sell the band themselves without resorting to name-dropping: if you don't believe me, then just consider that either David Bowie or the older Oasis likes them! That proves they must be good! So where does this leave the pretty-boy from Franz Ferdinand? I suspect his destiny will lie in casting an arch glance over the latest ragamuffin ramalams, as he takes Noel Gallagher's eyebrow and raises it beyond anyone's interest.

What these cowardly journalists don't realise is that the Gallagher's talent doesn't lie in music, imitation or approval, oh no. What I've come to realise is that insults are what the tracksuited blow-hards do better than almost anyone else. I have already quoted LG on Franz Ferdinand, a put down so wonderful it bears reapeating: "Right Said Fred on the Atkins Diet." Well, his elder silbling just went one better. Describing Jack White of the White Stripes, NG was heard to remark that the humourless dullard resembled, "Zorro on donuts."
Now that's just fantastic. Clearly Oasis don't have any talent for writing songs, but they are experts at drawing uncanny parallels between inflated musos and their alleged diets. It hadn't even occured to me that with his pathetic tache and ill-advised hat he looked like Zorro. A lesser wit would have said that Jack White looked like, "Zorro on the pies," but Gallagher didn't go for the obvious - he made the wonderful Zorro reference - surprising yet true - and capped it off with "donuts" which is much funnier than any other food in this context. Likewise the thicker sibling was able to compare Franz Ferdinand to camp novely band Right Said Fred and make a trenchent comment on them being lightweights, to the effect that it's impossible to see them as anything but.

But do journos pick up on Oasis' real talent? No. I could listen to the brothers Grim slagging off their phantom competiton all day, in a manner far wittier than yer average lazy scribbler. I may be onto something here.

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