Pop Tarts

Now, before I lose any respect that I may have had, I need to explain something. I am a self confessed lover of ‘Cheesy Pop’. I am secure in my trashy music taste, limited acoustic knowledge and I do not shy away from the pop calendars aimed at under 10 years olds.

Life can be heavy enough without listening to James Blunt and joining Suicide Anonymous. Or holding a razor to my wrist as I stare dreamily out of the window whilst Damian - ‘O’ my god someone shut him up - Rice drones on in the background. Music for me is uplifting and I avoid overly emotional or depressing songs at all costs. However, I could never imagine the rollercoaster of emotions I experienced when yesterday I turned on the music channel. First euphoria, then confusion shortly followed by despair as I witness my idol standing in front of a camcorder looking like a smacked up hooker gyrating badly in front of a pole. The VMA awards were distressing enough, but this….

Who the hell is managing Ms Spears on a personal and professional level because whoever you are, what are you thinking of? I like her new song and wait in anticipation for the release of her new album but wake up; Britney is blatantly in need of therapy. She needs resilience training, some direction, a chance to grow her hair and time to see her children. It pains me to say but Britney does not have the raw talent of Winehouse, her kudos does not rise if she forgets to wear her thong, marries an idiot and shaves her head.

Britney is an old fashioned entertainer. A West End/Broadway Theatre one women show, the love child of Liberace and Madonna – you get the glitter and the sex with her tongue planted firmly in her cheek. This has always come across in her concerts and her videos which is why I am baffled that her latest promo is one step up from Paris Hilton’s home-made sleaze video. Before the lyrics to ‘Everytime’ become her eulogy and Elton sings ‘Oops I did it again’ at her funeral, please will someone help her!

When I think it can’t get any worse, I find myself half listening to a boring talentless female singer on the radio. As the song continues I suddenly recognise a distinct and different singing voice and the horrific realisation overwhelms me. I have to do everything in my power to not break down sobbing on the kitchen floor. It can only be the Spice Girls reunion song as no one else sings like Mel C.

I and so many others did not buy tickets to the upcoming show or wait 10 years to hear ‘We are back, back again, we said our friendship would never end’. Would I lie and write the words ‘You thought that we had gone away, now you know we are here to stay’ yes I would for £10 million, but no ladies, you are not here to stay. You’re going to do one world tour, take the cash, retire and avoid having anymore children with Dr Dolittle. And who could blame you, but please don’t release any more ‘Headline’ songs or sing them at the concert.

Why do pop dreams have to end? Why can’t Popworld be the one place where everything stays cool and rosy? Come on, you’re all pop stars; you have charmed lives, just humour us that you’re having a great time – Please! I’m sure that being thrust into the limelight, chased by the paparazzi and having every little thing you do scrutinized by the world’s media is fun, right? What’s the problem? I have to work with Keith from Accounts!

Come on Pop Tarts, before your time is up! Leona Lewis is about to blow all of you out of the water with her talent factor. The song is fantastic, she looks great and she can sing. Ok, so give her two years in the musicsphere and she’ll probably collapse like a house of cards!

See, this is what happens in therapy. If you remove one emotional brick the rest can so easily crumble and in my case instead of thinking about the funeral of a family friend I am attending next week, ‘Cheesy Pop’ has temporarily become my focus.