LOL Interwebz: An Imprecatory Psalm for Nickelback

Every Thursday in LOL Interwebz, Luke T. Harrington explores the quirks and foibles of Internet culture from a Gospel perspective.

Truly God is good to music fans,

to those who actually got excited when Beck won a Grammy.

But as for me, my ears had almost stumbled,

my earbuds had almost popped out and landed in my Frappuccino.

For I was envious of the marginally talented

when I saw the prosperity of the Nickelback.

…

For they have no pangs until death;

their bleached tresses are far too luxurious for mortal words to describe.

They are not living in their cars as real musicians are;

they “hang out in their private rooms with the latest dictionary,” whatever that is supposed to mean.

Therefore their pride is their necklace

(or actually, some sort of leather braid he probably bought at PacSun).

Their eyes swell out while they sing in a voice that sounds like a hernia patient;

and yet, they still manage to marry Avril Lavigne.

They scoff and play only power chords;

loftily, they threaten to keep playing those same power chords.

They set their mouths against the heavens,

and then we realize they can only sing power chords as well.

Verily, learn a real chord.

Chords have to have at least three notes.

That’s what a chord is,

all right?

Behold, these are the Nickelbacks;

always at ease, they increase in riches.

Then they use those riches to buy bathrooms big enough to play baseball in

(because apparently that’s a thing).

All in vain have I bothered to learn music theory and history,

when I obviously could have learned three chords and written some single entendres.

All day long I have been stricken

every time someone turned on a radio.

The DJs know not that other bands exist,

and that some of those bands even have songs that don’t sound like Pearl Jam’s reject pile.

…

But when I thought how to understand this,

it seemed to me a wearisome task,

especially the 27th time

that Kroeger told me to look at that stupid photograph.

…

But truly you set them up on Portuguese stages

where they get rocks thrown at their heads.

Which, lo, I must admit

is hilarious.

And also, things such as this,

wherein a Relevant podcaster used the Internet’s hatred of them to raise $30,000 for Charity:Water

[because I need to connect this column back to the Internet somehow,

because that’s what they pay me for.]

…

Nevertheless, I am continually thankful

that I am not a member of Nickelback,

For the pain of being them

must far outstrip the pain of hearing them.

Or, worse still, I could find myself as some hipster kid

listening to Arcade Fire, spending all my time complaining about Nickelback.

I could even be somebody

who writes psalms about how terrible they are,

Thereby becoming pretentious

and annoying.

…

For behold, those who make mediocre post-grunge shall perish,

and their music shall be used as an excuse to give to important charities.

But for me, it is good to listen to better music,

like the Beatles, or Frank Zappa;

even William Hung would be an improvement.

[Or a cat getting murdered with a chainsaw.

That would also be better.]

…

And now I have plans for Friday night.