[Slowhand] The 10 most hated men in Rock

[LukeLinus]

The Ten Most Hated Men in Rock
(Besides Sting)
BY MIKE SEELY
mike.seely at riverfronttimes.com

David Byrne has done it right. Destined to live high
on the hog by way of
Talking Heads royalties until the day he dies, the
adventurous quirkmeister
has been nothing but ballsy since his seminal new-wave
outfit parted ways.
You may not like everything he's tried since his
career apex, but
complacency has, to his credit, been Byrne's worst
enemy.
Sting, meanwhile, is another story. This
turtleneck-sweatered Jaguar shill
has so desecrated his Policeman legacy that we're not
entirely convinced the
current soft-rock incarnation isn't the original
Sting's evil twin. He is,
without question, the most hated man in rock.
A better question is: Who're numbers two through ten?
According to San
Francisco Chronicle pop-music critic Aidin Vaziri, the
runner-up is Eric
Clapton, a ranking based almost exclusively on the
guitar god's synth-slop
collaborations with Babyface. While we may not agree
with this ranking, the
criteria for what makes a rocker "hated" is more or
less spot on: have
talent, use it well for a substantial period of time,
then intentionally
squander it for commercial riches, fame and/or forced
mass appeal.
Admittedly, it is tough to find ten men who strictly
adhere to such
requirements, so we've chosen -- with the help of a
secret, eleven-man
panel -- to implement a graded system in which
talented sellouts merit
weightier consideration than, say, Johnny Rzeznik or
Fred Durst. That said,
to exclude such ass-clowns from this list outright
would be doing a public
disservice. So too would including Sting, as he is as
consensus a top dog as
doggies can top. Without further ado, let the hatred
begin!
1. Paul McCartney Barely qualified to carry John
Lennon's roach clip while
both toiled with a grotesquely overrated boy band
known as the Beatles, Sir
Paul's true colors have reverberated loudly and
horribly since Mark David
Chapman put a tragic slug in Yoko's hubby. "Band on
the Run" could have been
written by a third grader, and McCartney's duets with
alleged pedophile
Michael Jackson -- and the ensuing public pissing
match over Wacko Jacko's
savvy purchase of the Beatles' catalogue -- cemented
McCartney's legacy of
poor taste and idiocy. And wasn't it great when Sir
Paul, sharing the stage
with Madonna at the close of the 1999 MTV Music
Awards, thought Lauryn Hill
was a man, referring to the artist of the year as
"some guy named Lawrence
Hill?" Nice one, asshole. Worst of all, who can forget
the post-9/11 ode to
freedom named, with typical genius, "Freedom"?
Marrying a young, blond,
one-legged starfucker twelve hours after burying your
hero-philanthropist
wife was a good one too, mate. Go fuck yourself,
McCartney. You deserve
worse than that, but such dread is unattainable on
this earth. We can only
hope Satan delivers the goods to Sir Paul in Hell,
where knighthoods carry
no currency.
2. Carlos Santana "Or else forget about it!" We wish
we could, Carlos. And
that would likely be possible had you made just one
album of duets with
flash-in-the-pan pop stars such as Matchbox Twenty's
Rob Thomas. But no, you
followed it up with "a little bit of this" and "a
little bit of that" with
no-talent teen tart Michelle Branch on the dreadful
Supernatural sequel,
Shaman, and proceeded to ride the low-rent pop-culture
train all the way to
a spot on National Basketball Association playoff
lead-ins with the Black
Eyed Peas. Pathetic career trajectory for a man once
considered to be the
heir apparent to Jimi Hendrix, and Santana has no one
to blame but himself.
It's not like his record label swooped in and said,
"Say, Carlos, we need
you to do this duet with the guy from Nickelback or
else we're going to drop
your ass." Look for him on the next Jennifer Lopez
album.
3. Jimmy Buffett Alcohol-rehabilitation counselors,
antidepressant
manufacturers and shrinks should present Buffett with
gold-encrusted plaques
of recognition thanking the Key West ukulele hack for
supplying roughly half
of their paying clientele. Here's how the vicious
cycle works: 1) Begin
liking Buffett during perpetually drunk collegiate
undergrad years; 2)
prolong perpetual drunkenness by becoming Parrothead
and attending Buffett
shows until the age of 40; 3) crash car drunk on drive
back from Buffett
show at Pensacola Fairgrounds; 4) enter court-mandated
rehab program; 5) get
sober; 6) recognize how bad taste in music and hollow
life was during
personal "Cheeseburger in Paradise" bender; 7) start
seeing shrink and
taking Prozac; 8) realize that entire wardrobe
consists of imitation
Hawaiian shirts, huarache sandals, golf visors and
jams; 9) start drinking
again; 10) hit the road for Chattanooga stop of
Buffett's "Four Inebriated
Horsemen" tour with Alan Jackson, Clint Black and
Randy Travis.
Margaritaville, unfortunately, has inescapable walls
made of petrified ape
dung, which is an apt description of Buffett's entire
catalogue.
4. The Adams Family (Ryan & Bryan) You've been asking
for this double entry,
Ryan, by refusing, time and again, to cover "Summer of
'69" in concert. If
you didn't want to be confused with Bryan Adams -- or,
short of that, teased
a little for being one consonant short of Canada's
pint-size pride -- you
should have changed your fucking name. Lots of rock
stars do it, bro.
Releasing three mediocre albums a year and mounting
the likes of Winona
Ryder and Parker Posey have done nothing to help R.
Adams' credibility
either. Bryan, meanwhile, paved the way for mediocre
soloists like Phil
Collins and Patrick Swayze to cash in at the box
office by contributing to
Robin Hood. For this, the gravel-throated Canuck will
never be forgiven,
even if the aforementioned "Summer" is a true-blue
gem.
5. Elton John Bernie Taupin's not-so-tiny dancer was
way better in the
Studio 54 era, when he was as high as a Rocket Man and
actually cranked out
adventurous pop hits with gusto. Now sober, Sir Elton
seems content to belt
out cheesy power ballads for animated-feature
soundtracks, host garish
awards-show afterparties and retrofit "Candle in the
Wind" to cash in on the
It-Dead Princess of the Moment. Leavin' Levon far
behind, indeed, and much
the worse for it. Heaven hope the sun goes down on
this pasty,
toupee-wearing key tickler ASAFP.
6. Johnny Rzeznik Feel free to debate whether what the
Goo Goo Dolls record
can even be considered rock. Also feel free to debate
whether or not it's
music. Any way you slice the pie, this moronic,
saccharine, neo-glam outfit
is the worst band in America, with Rzeznik being the
synthetic cherry
filling. Quick, name one Goo Goo Dolls song! That's
okay, you're not alone.
The fact that Rzeznik ascends to this high a ranking
without ever exhibiting
an ounce of artistic talent is testament to how much
people just want to
drop-kick his pretty-boy bean through the goalposts at
Fuckface Field. At
least this Calvin Klein underwear-model wannabe has
one thing going for him:
Avril Lavigne evidently wants to ride him. And in
Missouri, that'd be barely
legal.
7. G.E. Smith We know: How can a Saturday Night Live
bandleader named after
a power company qualify for this list? Here's how:
Smith served as Hall &
Oates' lead guitarist from 1979 until 1985, which
marked the peak of the
Philly duo's commercial viability. And -- come on --
was there any blond
ponytail more ubiquitous than Smith's during his
ten-year SNL run?
Absolutely not -- homeboy played on every imaginable
televised tribute
concert, including Bob Dylan's, Live Aid and Farm Aid.
Indeed, where there
was an Aid -- and a camera -- there was a blond
ponytail, which Smith took
great pains to flap across his face like a horse does
with tail and ass.
Smith was Michael Bolton before Michael Bolton was
Michael Bolton. The
difference is Smith didn't even have to open his mouth
to attain such
reviled status; his "look at me!" facial expressions
did it all.
8. Conor Oberst & Chris Carrabba Who wants to hear
sad, sad songs about the
day-to-day pathos of well-to-do suburban white kids?
Well-to-do suburban
white kids, that's who. And that's about it. "Emo,"
then, is really a genre
within a genre within a genre, which makes it a
mystery as to why these two
wimps have been garnering so much ink and critical
fellatio. Every song they
write is overwrought and essentially intellectually
dishonest. Everybody's
got problems, to be sure, but we'd love to transplant
this double entry (two
whiny weenies equal one man, by our count) of pastoral
crackers to the
ghetto for a few decades. Then we'll see if they
continue to pump out the
same prepubescent pussy bait that's gotten them this
far.
9. Fred Durst It doesn't matter whether or not you
believe Durst's claim
that he drilled Britney Spears six ways 'til Sunday;
this rap-rock goofball
is largely responsible for rock's darkest era: the
late 90's (Kid Rock, you
can take a bow too). Fortunately it looks like Durst's
career is over.
Otherwise, he'd likely outstrip Rzeznik for the sixth
spot and would rank
number one if this poll were more concerned with sonic
proficiency.
10. Bob Weir You can actually stop truckin' now, Bob.
The Dead's insistence
on staying on the road post-Jerry Garcia has proven,
beyond a shadow of a
doubt, that the band was just a collection of
semi-competent nerds with a
prodigiously charismatic and talented frontman. And
"Rock Star Bobby" is the
worst of the bunch, a bona fide gravy trainer who
would've probably invited
frequent guest Huey Lewis to join the band as a
full-time harmonica player
had Garcia not understandably kept his pink
Izod-wearing ass in check.
Weir's side project, Rat Dog, is basically a
below-average bar band with a
frontman who needs a teleprompter to remember his own
lyrics. But frankly,
given our unyielding love for all things Garcia, we
were willing to forgive
and forget until Weir & Co. jumped on a stage in a
movie-studio lot to
appear on Leno recently. With Garcia on the injured
list (for good), Weir
stepped in to sing lead vocals on "Touch of Grey."
Horribly. Why he didn't
just defecate on Jerry's headstone instead, we'll
never know.
Rounding out the Top Twenty: 11. Glenn Frey & Don
Henley. 12. Scott Stapp.
13. Rod Stewart. 14. Phil Collins. 15. Lenny Kravitz.
16. Steve Miller. 17.
John Cougar Mellencamp. 18. Michael McDonald. 19. Max
Weinberg. 20. Lars
Ulrich.
Honorable Mention: Eric Clapton, Anthony Kiedis, Kid
Rock, Scott Weiland,
Liam & Noel Gallagher, Zack de la Rocha, Peter
Gabriel, Kenny Loggins,
George Thorogood, Bob Seger, Ted Nugent, Stevie Ray
Vaughan, Bruce
Springsteen, Axl Rose, James Hetfield, Ozzy Osbourne,
Steve Winwood, Bruce
Hornsby, Billy Joel, Dave Matthews, John Popper,
Julian Casablancas, Jack
White, Rob Thomas, Huey Lewis, Jackson Browne, Dave
Grohl, Chris Cornell,
Mark McGrath, Melissa Etheridge and the lead singer of
Maroon 5 (we're too
indifferent to even bother learning his name).


best regards
Peter / Germany

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