You know the band, you hate the band, you hasten even for a moment to call them a ‘band’ because it puts them in too good of company with Limp Bizkit and Creed and U2. You know, real bands.
Humanity has come to the very concise and accurate conclusion that Nickelback suck a lot. Quite enough has been said on that. They routinely make the list of most hated bands, Urban Dictionary defines them as “the act of willingly allowing ones ears to bleed” and there is this video that pretty much says it all.
Cunts!
Why do we hate this so unique brew of Canadian nu-metal so much? Maybe because their music is boring and uninspiring. Maybe because they are too formulaic. Probably because it is bland and generic, trying very hard and failing even harder to be what rock music once was; agressive and individual.
Sure the singer man sings in a gravelled voice, the guitars are loud and the drums thumping, but the raw ingredients does not a cake make.
Also, as a comedian I once saw once said, the singer looks like the Paddle-Pop Lion.
Buff Legend.
Lookalike Cunt.
But, unfortunately, it must be addressed. For anything to be so widely hated it must, at a certain point, be widely loved. If Nickelback were plain shit they would have never gained a high enough profile to be hated by so many people. Not unlike fellow Canadian piece of human garbage, Justin Bieber.
Though it is fairly clear who Justin Bieber fans are, teenage girls. Though who, really, likes Nickelback? Who are the army of loyal souls who have raised them to this point that they can be so visibly loathed by the masses?
Conventional wisdom might suggest that amidst the torrent of hatred, most would be unwilling to admit to their fandom of this monstrosity. This is probably largely why you don’t run in to too many fans in your day to day. Though this kind of hatred exists in fair-share on the internet. Without it, in this day and age, you are free to like what you want and cop the torrent of criticism face to face that comes with liking what you want, or not. Take my sister and brother in law.
It was last Christmas. The holiest and, I am well informed, jolliest time of the year. The scene was the usual one; beers sunk in half-secret, aunties obsessing over chairs, awkward hugs, fishing through presents for money and, typically, me on my anti-Nickelback rant.
Christmas and me shitting on Nickelback really have become something of a tradition. Like my uncle carving the meat or my aunty moaning about the dietary suicide that is gluten. If one crumb of gluten causes you to be violently ill for days afterward, maybe you didn’t make the team Darwin would have fielded. Also I don’t now and will never give a shit how much your Aspergers-bowel bread costs, shut the fuck up about it.
It's Like, 3 Bucks More, You Guys!
But during my prudent argument on why Nickelback is worse than penis cancer, something surprising happened. My brother in law came out as a fan and my sister quickly followed. Cathy is known to follow Linus in musical taste, but this seemed like ‘if he jumped off a bridge…’
And then it was awkward. I found myself backtracking, trying not to offend the very real bag of flesh in front of me. I still thought the band sucked but floated the possibility that he ‘got into their early stuff’. I was trying to reconcile my clear view with his very clear and very contradictory view.
Though why did our families Brangelina love them so much? And more to the point why would they admit it?
Because they are not internet savvy. They have no idea of the hatred of Nickelback and so can admit their enjoyment of this audio dog shit freely. And best of all when they do they get what I gave them, pure back-tracking and support.
It is much harder to tear someone down for their shitty-taste in person. There is something to be said about being off the network and something freer still about liking a shitty band when you are.
NP.
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