It’s the night all Tunbridge Wells is buzzing about, the once a year annual back slapping fest that is The Shits Awards in which a half addled presenter, his plastic wife and unsightly children (god alone knows what the wardrobe department were thinking, the fat panda looked like she’d been seriously assaulted), get together to present some of the most glaringly obvious awards to the most completely unsurprising people as voted for by a crack team of promotions people who haven’t sold enough Adele albums yet.

As with previous years, the nominations are carefully worked out in advance to ensure that each major label is adequately represented and that anybody who doesn’t agree to toe the party line on how great Mika is will be excluded. The panel considered their verdicts for some full five minutes before agreeing to divide them up as usual on the basis of who needs the publicity most.

Special awards for Not Dying and Being Alive went to a small Australian and an old bloke what your dad thinks is proper music, but the real award winners were once again you the listening public, who will get to hear not only Mika but also Kate Nash on repeat play for another 12 months to celebrate this glorious age of golden tunes.

The judges admitted to being somewhat puzzled this year to be asked to vote for the same bunch of token northerners as last year, but apparently nobody else has made any albums, so ey up our kid again for Arctic Monkeys, who did at least look surprised to hear that the second best album they’ve made is the best we could manage this year. A bunch of blokes who it’s quite difficult to dislike were awarded the prize for getting back together, and the proper music awards went to a bunch of foreign people who do this kind of thing much better than us.

OK, so I know that the above is pointing out the glaringly obvious, and that in any case we probably shouldn’t care, but seriously, is it any wonder that the UK’s standing for music worldwide is at an all time low if we use our one night of the year that anybody internationally pays any attention to us to ram home the message that we have nothing new or interesting to offer? There’s some great music coming out the UK right now, but how the fuck you would be expected to know that on the basis of this shower of shit is beyond me.

If that wasn’t bad enough…. That pack of wankers at the front? They are apparently our bright new hopes courtesy of the Brit School. Now, you may say I don’t know much about music, and you might claim that they were young, and excited, and overcome, and possibly, to judge by former graduates, out of their tiny minds on class A drugs, but seriously, can anybody find me 300 other people in the entire fucking country who not only do not know how Hey Jude goes, but cannot manage to pick up the difficult bit at the end when it is presented to them in the easy format of having somebody standing three metres in front of you asking you to sing “La – la la, la la lala”?

Christ on a fucking bike……. Frankly, where is a decent terrorist when you need one?

Coming up at The Forum this month: None of the above.

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