TMI: Too Music Information

I could have gone my entire life without knowing that Ed Sheeran passed his driving test. Just as I could have lived very happily without the information that John Legend and his wife are going to have a baby in the coming year. The exact same sentiment applies to every other story on the sidebar of shame, which consistently proves itself to be the crowning glory for the outstanding bastion of modern-day journalism that is the Daily Mail website.

The dawn of the Twitter age has brought with it an unparalleled level of over-sharing among popular musicians. Is all of the interest they receive real? Do people truly care about the inner workings relationship between Kim and Kanye, Taylor and Calvin or Bey and Jay? (Actually scratch that last one. All hail to the Queen). People do enjoy getting to know artists better, I know, but are all 31.5 million of Katy Perry’s Instagram followers deeply enthralled by her pictures of her new nails? I’m afraid I just don’t see it.

I just don’t care about your #PumpkinSpiceLatte or your cats or your cars

Long gone are the days when musicians released music, did a tour with it and then went away and locked themselves up somewhere, until they emerged with new material. How those sweet, innocent times are dearly missed. Now, they have to document their every move, broadcasting their daily activities out to the world, whether we like it or not. I just don’t care about your #PumpkinSpiceLatte or your cats or your cars, and they definitely do not deserve a double-tap, pal. If this fails, we can always rely on a plethora of reporters clogging our feeds with such fodder. Which we then have to wade through to get at real news, rather than “Rihanna Leaves Her Favourite Restaurant Still Clutching Her Glass of Red Wine After Cancelling Performance”. Unfortunately, yes, that is a real headline.

I don’t think my eyes can handle seeing any more of Miley Cyrus’ tongue. Just make it stop

I would love to see the return of the mystery, which once provided a bit of intrigue to the people whose anthems we enjoy belting out (and destroying). Being left wondering how Sam Smith spends his time after writing the enigmatic James Bond theme song, isn’t a bad thing. In fact, imagining him, as I do, gliding around the dark streets of London in a very Bond-like manner, is infinitely more interesting than seeing a Sam-Selfie of him in his pyjamas.

So, let’s all pray (although admittedly it’s a long shot) for the swift and imminent death of the social media accounts and shockingly awful “news” outlets who perpetuate this array of useless information and boring images. God, if you’re listening, I just don’t think my eyes can handle seeing any more of Miley Cyrus’ tongue. Just make it stop.

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