I was watching Loose Women yesterday and one of the guests was James Blunt. You know, the ex-army officer-turned-crooner-sold-his-sister-on-eBay chappie. This bloke —–> —–> —–>
Well firstly he’s shaved off that unfortunate attempt at beardage and had his hair cut, which was a vast improvement, and secondly he seems to be quite a nice bloke. I’ve always liked his music. He makes a nice noise. But I’ve never admitted it before, mainly because.. well, you know what people are like.
Some music is ‘cool’. The difficulty comes from knowing which music is ‘cool’ and which is not. Well actually, not the second part – everyone seems to automatically know which music is ‘not cool’. Those are the artists who we mention in a slightly lowered voice. Those are the CD’s which we only play when alone in the car. You know, someone else gets in and the stereo comes on and EEEK you’ve left your Cliff Richard’s Greatest Hits on full volume..
Well, I have decided (with a little help from Stig who is always happy to point out my shortcomings) that at 37 years of age there is little or no hope of my ever being classified as ‘cool’ again. In fact, I am so uncool that apparently it isn’t cool to use the word cool. If one is what we used to call cool, one is apparently ‘sick’. ‘Sick’ is a good thing, it seems.
So, if all hope is lost (that’s a line from a James Blunt song, you know) and my street-cred is long gone – then fuckit, I’m going to stand up and be counted.
My name is Claire and I’m a James Blunt fan. 🙂