Kate Bush has now reached the point where she is classed as beyond criticism as a performing artist.
Attach her name to a project and it's considered a seal of excellence.
She could sample goats farting and play them as a backdrop to a woman laconically berating a male partner about their lack of understanding of menstrual cramps and the album would be considered as a work of genius as long as she added herself doing an impression of whales communicating in the quiet bits.
Critics would fall over themselves to proclaim it to be the must have album of the year, and sheeple would echo their sentiments after listening to it just the once before then leaving it to gather dust with PJ Harveys award winning effort.
(Another album that I consider to be a piece of self indulgent twaddle.)
Don't even dare to say that you don't get it, as others who don't get it either will be quick to look down their nose at you, and then make some snide comment about your lack of cultured tastes.
Fuck them though.
Fuck them and their disingenuous and snobbish attitudes that they cling to.
It's not a healthy position for an artist to occupy in the mind of the public in my opinion.
It doesn't lend itself to allowing an artists to reconsider their material from a different angle.
It's not conducive to an honest reappraisal.
Keep telling people that they are the greatest thing since the invention of sliced bread and a point will come when they will believe it to be so, and when that point is reached they release albums like '50 Words For Snow'.
Yes, the empire has a leader whose a naturist it would seem.....again.
Here's the blurb from Kate's own website.
'50 Words For Snow' will feature seven brand new tracks set against the background of falling snow.
What does that mean?
I'm thinking of releasing an album called '50 words for a Kate Bush album' in response.
Basically it will just be me doing an impression of someone with tourettes over a backing track of the last Saturdays album being played backwards.
I've persevered with Kate's album for over a week and every single time I hit play I can see the x-factor panel asking Kate who told her that this was any good as she tearfully looks into the wings and whispers 'all my fans and critics said it was great'.
Meanwhile in my minds eye the vast majority of the audience cruelly snigger as she runs from the stage and the camera man captures a close up of her wounded and confused eyes accompanied by a quivering snot covered upper lip.
Up until 'The Red Shoes' Kate never missed a step.
Each album was a pop masterpiece that acted as a gateway for people to explore musical paths that they may not have previously considered.
The word genius was deservedly levelled at her, but now..............well c'mon?
Where's the mojo gone?