1000 Things We Hate #153: Jonathan Pierce

15 04 2011

you make me sick

So, I watching the live streaming of Coachella on YouTube today, waiting around for Interpol (naturally), and I caught the set of The Drums. At first I was intrigued. They started off with a good solid song that had plenty of potential in its own right. I thought I might like it. But oh, how very wrong I was. I tried desperately to ignore the Dennis the Menace attire, but it was really hard to shake. Watching this reminded me of exactly why I hate most of the bullshit that’s been coming out recently. And what’s with the whole 90’s thing?! When were the 90’s EVER cool?! There was nothing cool about the 90s. All I remember was Queen Latifah’s hat and Blossom. See?! Nothing to speak of; let’s just pack away our rollerblades and overalls somewhere and forget the whole thing ever happened. But now, all of a sudden, its “hip” to wear the mom jeans and cropped t-shirt combo again? What has become of us?! World, whatever you see coming out of the states, ignore it. This is the worst possible representation of this generation, just so you know. And Jonathan Pierce is only furthering this stereotype.

I'm shocked that someone would put this on, look in the mirror and say, "Allllriiiight, good to go."

Fuck this guy with his stupid fucking bull cut and fucking oversized stripped tee tucked into his high-waisted 90s jeans. Actually, Ian put it best when he said he looked just like Stuart from those fucking Mad-TV skits. That’s right, Mad-TV. So fucking 90s. Fuck that guy. Fuck everything about him. You could tell there was this putrid arrogance revolving about him. He was just so 90s he even made a reference to Fresh Prince by doing the Carlton dance. Unless… I guess I haven’t quite decided if that was just the way he dances or what. If it is, that is just possibly the saddest thing ever. Thanks again fucker for showing the world that white people really can’t dance. But then, if he was just making the reference than that just makes me fucking angry. Angry enough to hunt him down like Ice-T in “Surviving the Game”; and yes, I would be on a four-wheeler and everything.Oh Gary Busey, you know just how to touch my heart.
What was with that weird, vaguely south-london fucking accent that would pop up every once in a while?! YOU’RE FROM FLORIDA. It was like he was trying desperately to just straight up be Morrissey and then at other times it was like he was mimicking David Byrne from the Talking Heads. I just felt so confused and alone, and I didn’t want to keep watching but I couldn’t help it because it was just becoming such a spectacle that I couldn’t tear my eyes away from the page and at the same time I felt the need to go Oedipus and scratch out my eyes with a couple of pins. This is almost as bad as Dirty Beaches. But not really, because that’s the worst trash I’ve ever heard. Thanks Pitchfork for hyping some piece of shit dick bag trying to bring on lo-fi rockabilly. Its like listening to early Elvis, but over an AM radio station that broadcasts 100 miles away from where you are. Sorry about that detour. I’ll move on.

Fuck me. I mean, I realized they’re going for that “post-punk” sound or whatever, but this is just fucking ridiculous, you can’t just take all of your favorite bands and just mash them together and call it good. Because that’s all it was. Well, I guess the only thing that distinguishes him from the others mentioned is that for some reason he had a thing for making this awful noise that just sounded like he was choking on a hotdog. I mean, I don’t know if that’s what he was going for, but that’s what it was, and he kept doing it, to the point where half the song was just him choking on a hotdog and gagging a lot. In all reality though, I couldn’t help but with he were choking just so I wouldn’t have to continue to hear him squawk and Carlton all over the fucking stage. And the dance! Stop fucking dancing! Watching him made me want to grab him by those little fucking blonde hairs on the back of his neck and repeatedly bash his face into a cement sidewalk screaming “EAT SHIT CUNT!” over and over again until blood starts dripping out of the corners of his mouth and all I can hear are the weak gurgling whispers breathing “Stop, not the face”. And I will laugh. Boom. Bitch.
Oh, and fuck YouTube for broadcasting this bullshit instead of Odd Future. I really fucking appreciated that. Didn’t waste my time with that or anything. Dicks.


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