They’re the sort of songs that can create mass opposition: you show it to everyone you know until you're politely told to fuck off.
A couple of months ago, something happened that made me question everything: lip-gloss blogger and professional gif-maker Bip Ling vomited “BIPPING” - an ode to blogging - over YouTube. It split opinions; Cosmo called bipping the new twerking and my friend referred to it as the e-number fuelled musical diarrhea of a guest-list party regular.
It made me question everything because I couldn’t work out if (A) the music was brilliant and I wanted to delete my iTunes and only listen to Bip Ling for the rest of my life or (B) the music was terrible and the words “Bipping. Mooching. Blogging. Blogging” were repeating like a blogspot version of Groundhog Day that made me want to Ctrl+Alt+Delete my existence.
This sort of thing happens to me every once in a while. It could be a composition that pushes the boundary of sound, a song Nelly wrote confessing his attraction to a car, or a bunch of Japanese girls singing a speed-metal song about wanting to eat chocolate, but not being able to eat it, because Mars Bars makes you fat. It doesn’t matter; all that matters is the songs disorientate any sense of what music, or good music, can be. They’re the sort of songs that can create mass opposition: either you play it to everyone, calling it the best thing in the world until you’re politely told to fuck off or you play it to everyone, calling it the worst thing in the world until you’re politely told to fuck off. Either way – it’s unlike anything else and the internet was invented to share it.
Hannah Diamond - who you may or may not have heard of - is an artist that fits into this category.