Mr Blue Sky, a genuinely stomach churning experience

There are some songs that Virgin play incessantly, one of those is a track that I’ve hated for as long as I can remember. It’s called Mr Blue Sky and it’s by a band called ELO, you’ve probably had the misfortune of hearing it recently on Virgin, or in the past being played by twats like Dave Lee Travis or Mike Reed.

For me it sums up everything that is endemically evil about modern, western and popular music. Firstly there is that disgusting saccharine melody that sounds as though it’s been written by that head waggling git Paul McCartney and a team of gay accountants from Buckinghamshire. Truly awful. It’s so bad that it makes the Frog chorus at Sunday school sound like a night on the piss with The Clash.

It doesn’t end there either, the truly revolting tune and chorus somehow redeem themselves when one considers the production involved. Beatlesque strings a decade out of date with what can only be described as the local parish choir singing their own rendition of Bohemian Rhapsody (Which is actually the worst song ever recorded to tape and can wait for another day).

It’s listened to exclusively by men who think Jeremy Clarkson is cool, who play air guitar at the traffic lights and say, “They don’t write them like this anymore kids!”. No they don’t, thank fuck.

The mere existence of Mr Blue Sky is damning evidence of how far Rock and Roll, or Pop music in general, can disappear up the human arse.

A genuinely stomach churning experience.

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