Our Crack Tongue & Groove
What fresh hell is this?
Nothing says “I’m sticking it to the man!” like the suffix: 18.9% APR (variable). That percentage is the cut Richard Branson takes from your bank balance when you use Virgin’s new Never Mind The Bollocks credit card. A small price to pay to, in the words of Virgin Money’s Really-Could-Not-Give-A-Fuck website, “Bring a bit of rebellion to your wallet”. Yeah! But the subverting of subversion in pop music is nothing new. The Clash adopted a po-faced “we’ll never appear on Top Of The Pops” stance before Should I Stay Or Should I Go was slathered all over a Levi’s advert; and Bob Dylan, hero of the 1960s counter-culture, saw nothing amiss about shilling for posh knickers, appearing in an ad for Victoria’s Secret looking like a really confused Vincent Price. The Sex Pistols, of course, flame-throwered all their bridges when they reformed for some ill-advised comeback gigs and appeared in adverts for butter, but there is something especially galling about a band, who once sang about anarchy in the UK, fronting up a campaign for debt. “Ever get the feeling you’ve been cheated?” John Lydon once memorably asked. Yes, indeed, but not usually at 18.9% APR (variable).‘What fresh hell is this’ is brought to you by Curly Wurly, the caramel ladder coated in Cadbury’s delicious milk chocolate that won’t rot your teeth or make you fat.