Yet another emanation from the girth of history’s libido, more crass gatecrashing of culture from another member of the Sciontocracy, her moment has been awaited since her conception, the fallopian fertilisation of Nancy Spungen simulacra Courtney Love and ‘Grungemeister General’ Kurt Cobain’s people making facilities. The wait is over, the results are in.
She’s shy. She’s coy. She’s just like YOU. She’s tentatively making her mark on Generation Lifeless with this queasy mish-mash of her Pop’s reference points, coming across like Sinead O’Connor garroting herself sans the emotional truth that comes as a result of real trauma, not mediated ersatz emotions that have been filtered to extinction.
Nothing screams 2018 more than this pearl “There are so many memeable moments in this clip… I’m SUPER restless because i can’t play guitar with long nails so I’m just sitting in my room alone singin to mah self”. My ADHD receptor’s gone AWOL overboard at this, memes mean media messaging, yeah, memes mean mind massaging, dig? Muuuuuuum!
Reciting the kind of ‘poetry’ that a 4 year old would get laughed out of town at for being ‘too sixth form’. And hey guys, guess what, her creative well is brimming despite the fact she hasn’t got e television set! Far out, dude.
The NME’s corpse, as ever, gets right to the nub by clearly lifting from your standard clueless PR drivel ‘ … singing what appears to be an original composition’. Woodward and Bernstein, eat your hearts out.
Frank, here, serves up a half-baked emo-sap dirge worthy of LinkedIn Bizkit.