I Wish Thom Yorke Would Just Sell Out Already
A guest Probeatorial by
some other guy in Radiohead
Sure, it's great when even the toughest critic can't
call your band a tool of the man because you refuse to
produce fluff suitable for the masses or sell your
songs for adverts. And it's really smashing that
every other day we're performing for charity or
donating something to charity or just waving our
bloody arms around, jumping up and down and yelling
'Charity! Charity! Charity!' on the telly. But
for the love of god, Thom, can we just sell out already?
I, for one, am over being the darling of the critics.
Fuck the critics. The critics don't pay for a garage
full of Porsches or gobble your knob on the back of the
bus (not that you'd want them to, though). Yeah, I'm all about
the music, too, man, but what is the music about? I got into
this gig to become Keith Richards! I want piles of money,
hordes of hot 18-year-old girls dressed in plaid skirts pushing
and shoving to get backstage, suitcases of illicit substances
being forced upon me at all times, and people on the street to
ask me for my autograph. Instead it's like I'm the drummer for
The Doors. Sure, everyone knew who Jim Morrison was and everyone's
like, 'The Doors' Bloody brilliant!' but can Mr. Everyman name the
drummer or recognize him in a pub or offer him his coed daughter
to do with as he wishes? I doubt it.
Come on, Thom! Forget all this electronic noise and postmodern
electronica and let's get back to what counts! Let's write a piece
of pop-shite that teeny-boppers around the world will gobble up,
gets played on MTV and VH1 for 48 weeks straight, and sell it to
whatever ecologically unsafe third-world-exploiting corporation
offers us the most cash, then blow it all on mansions in Rio de
Janeiro, stuffed with hookers and smack and do what rockstars are
meant to do! Christ knows you could stand to get laid.
(Transcribed by RM Weiner)
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