Now it’s not my place to speak ill of the dead. But I see that Stephen Gately passed on, and in that most rock-and-roll of ways – by choking on his own vomit.
Sad, but also stupid. I mean, come on – vomit? In 2009? Please.
But what I don’t get is why people are praising him just because he was gay. As in: “a pioneer in the pop world” and how brave he was to come out.
Um, hello? If you were to pick a business to be gay in, wouldn’t music be a first choice? I would have thought that the reaction would be more like – yeah yeah, sure, get in line, Stevo.
And so what, he’s a hero now? For filling the world up with shit tunes? For helping to unleash the horror of Ronan Keating on us?
Or for crapping all over something that is quite important to me and to many other people – popular music – just for the sake of getting his own grinning mug on the telly and lining his fucking pockets?
I am prepared to accept that he may have been a very nice guy. And even if he wasn’t, I’m still sad to see him go. And all respects to his grieving family and friends; seriously, this must suck for them.
But if the truth be known he was a crap singer in a rubbish band that tainted the world’s view of Ireland. And boy oh boy, I’m so incredibly glad to see the end of fucking Boyzone.
Long live real music.