James Blunt - All The Lost Souls

It's only August. Bit early for the onset of seasonally-induced depression, isn't it? Give us all a chance.

You'd best prepare yourself. Draw the curtains. Curl up in a ball. Put James Blunt on. Train your thoughts solely on how pointless life is. Think about how nothing in the world is of any worth. Despair at how nothing quite grabs you. Wonder how you used to have 'enthusiasms'.

Who let Blunt have a guitar in the first place? If they'd given him a glockenspiel we wouldn't have all this trouble. Solo glockenspiel artists never make it onto the radio.

Balls.

James Blunt - Back To Bedlam

I can't really be bothered today, so I thought I'd find an album where I could write about bloody anything off the top of my head and no-one would complain because I wasn't missing anything important.

After much searching, I eventually settled on James Blunt, because everyone who doesn't like his records instead likes to hate him with a passion. This'll be easy, I thought. But then it occurred to me that maybe I wouldn't honour his musical incompetence enough by ignoring him.

So I've got to really, really lay into him to raise myself above everyone else. But I can't. I'm dashing this off in no time because it's late in the day and I haven't updated. No time for thinking.

Maybe I'll diss him by making his update the worst on the whole of the site. That'll teach him.

In my head, I'm a Viking and I've hewn James Blunt down with my axe of indifference.

'Back To Bedlam' - it's a play on words on 'back to bed'.

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