It has been a year. Rainforests on fire, global unrest, and a pandemic that has brought out the worst in people has made the start to this decade a memorable one for all the wrong reasons. If you thought that 2020 had run out of misery to throw your way, then I’m afraid I’ve got some bad news for you: The Parlotones, a local band that sounds like a budget version of Coldplay for deaf people, is back.
And they’re threatening to release a Xmas album.
The Parlotones, a band that desperately wishes to be whiter than playing Nkalakatha at an Afrikaans wedding. The Parlotones, the musical equivalent of James Corden, inoffensive family-friendly jingles that make the flavour of vanilla look exotic by comparison.
The Parlotones, about as interesting as a toilet clogged up with discarded anal hair. The Parlotones, presumably thumbing through an issue of Rolling Stone right now to see which elements they can pilfer from the hottest bands on the American top 40 charts.
In what was thought to be an absolutely impossible feat to accomplish, the mere mention of a new Parlotones album has me hoping that shopping malls will instead broadcast Mariah Carey’s Xmas jingles instead of subjecting its patrons to a level of torture usually reserved for the ninth circle of hell. Lead vocal banshee Khan whatsisface explained on Jacaranda FM that the band crashed a studio to record the album during the partial national lockdown.
According to guitarist Paul Hodgson, the album contains four original songs that will make you realise that God truly is dead if this is the world that we live in, and several butchered cover songs that will make you pray for a fresh bout of Eskom load-shedding to grant your ears a stay of execution. Am I being too harsh? The blood gushing forth from my ears after streaming the entire album says no, no I am not.
The album is out right now, in case you’d prefer to gift your greatest nemesis a fate worse than death for the silly season.
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Last Updated: December 11, 2020