Finally, after weeks, months and years of drudgery, non-stories and "RudeBox", I can finally bring you a genuinely interesting story from the world of British pop. This recently-broken story concerns scores of high-ranking members of British pop royalty, and will shake the UK music scene to it's very core with it's shocking revelations.
I can barely bring myself to type the words.
"The Sugababes are in a legal battle over their name."
There it is - I said it. I feel exhausted just re-reading it.
For fuck's sake, really? I mean, how does such epic non-storyness get anywhere near the popular press? In these times of coalition governments and protesters and cops having a scrap in the centre of Bangkok, do we really need to hear about the adolescent wranglings of a bunch of failed harpies?
Having forced my way through the 'article', it appears that since none of the original 'babes are in the group now, plate-faced former member Mutya Buena has decided she wants to register the name as a trademark. The current line-up (Alan, Derek and Colin) have complained about this, and new levels of pointless debate have been dredged up as a result.
First question - why does she want to register the name? Is she about to release a range of face wipes depicting their logo? I can't believe there is much money to be made from exploiting the brand, not least because it's synonymous with a rotating door policy to band members and employing the most vacuous, maladjusted talent vacuums as singers that it's possible to get. "You what, she used to be in Atomic Kitten? She failed to win Eurovision? Get her signed"
Secondly - why don't the latest incarnation of this once-great pop institution just start again with a new name. "Angels with dirty faeces" is available.
Thirdly - who gives a donkey's cock what happens either way? They're hardly giving Ivor Novello sleepless nights with their pop offerings; a collection of music so turgid and bland Sarah Harding considers them a waste of good eyeliner. And it's not as if they've got a message. When asked who she'd like to win the Monaco Grand Prix (while stood in the pit lane, it has to be said), the Scouse one with the fat arse giggled and said "I don't know". Then the piano-faced one tried to force a gag out of Jenson Button and their 'song' "Push the button" which was beyond cringeworthy. It nearly made Martin Brundle cry.
In conclusion, I've nothing against these odorous buffoons. If someone wants to employ them to squawk their way through another piece of musical dog dirt, that's up to them. But if Mutya was so bothered about the original line-up's good name being dragged through the mud when she left, she should have said summat at the time. It's no good coming back when you're skint to ask for your name back. And besides, why would you want it now? I'd rather trademark "Adolf Sutcliffe's Bumtouchers" these days.
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