still I'd rather be famous than righteous or holy...

One of my pet musical peeves is when musicians become so lost in showbusiness that they start to write songs about their life as a celebrity. I know it's probably inevitable to some degree if that's what your life becomes, but at what point do they start to think that anyone might actually be interested in them telling us about how they can't snort coke in bars any more for fear of camera phones (The Streets) or listing their grievances against ignorant journalists who have dared to give them a bad review (Sterophonics, Guns n'Roses)?

Actually, I suppose it's not the subject matter per se that grates. Has anyone made carping quite such an art form as dear old Stephen Patrick Morrissey? He's been loudly railing against his detractors (real or imagined) for years, from "Frankly Mr. Shankly" onwards. What about Eminem? He'll have a pop at anyone, from his ex- current- ex-wife all the way through to Britney Spears and Christina Aguilera. Hell, he even has a pop at Moby, which frankly seems a bit like kicking a hamster. No, it's not the subject matter that makes me hate songs like this so much - it's when they are delivered without a hint of wit or guile that they get to me; when they are just charmless rants or crass, clumsy name-dropping.

Speaking of which, have you heard the new single by the Ordinary Boys?

Previously, I haven't been much bothered by this lot. I'd noticed that they'd taken their name from a Morrissey song, but that was about it. As soon as I did hear some of their stuff in all its honking, sub-ska glory, I decided to give them a wide berth and tried to forget about them. They created a small ripple in the music press (I think Morrissey may have mentioned he liked them) and then they looked set to disappear due to a terminal lack of interest.

....and then their lead singer (Preston) appeared on "Celebrity Big Brother" and revived both his and his band's flagging careers by copping off with the fake "celebrity" plant (and ultimate winner of the show), Chantelle. They fell in love before our eyes on TV and the unwashed proleteriat was hooked (well, I say "our eyes", but obviously I wasn't watching. Well, not much - but did you see George Galloway as a cat?). Preston and Chantelle subsequently got married, and they've pretty much been in the pages of Heat magazine ever since.

Aw, bless.

I read a quote from Preston in the NME the other day about how the band had been moving away from their ska sound, and that the new album was going to be a great leap forward.

And then I heard the lead single off this putative masterpiece.

Rather unbelievably for someone who voluntarily appeared on a reality TV show, it appears to be a song about what a drag it is being famous (if you can stand to, you can read the lyrics here and watch the video here). Bless him, the poor lad seems to think he's "at the top". Well, if marrying a cheap version of Paris Hilton and appearing in the weekly gossip mags is your idea of the top, then you can keep it.

More importantly, would you mind keeping it to yourself?