Premier League: Why Arsenal Is Guided by Voices and Other Predictions
It’s impossible to preview a season accurately until after play begins. That’s my excuse anyway. With that in mind, here are my thoughts on the major contenders and pretenders this season, along with analogies to artists in various genres.
Robert Pollard is a Genius
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First a note on my beloved Arsenal. I watch them easily dismantle a poor, poor (in quality, value, and wealth) Blackpool team 6–nil this morning. I took away a number of thoughts.
Arsenal fans are Epicureans, in the classical sense. Simple pleasures are the ultimate ends themselves. This permeates the club. It means you get to watch brilliant passing and movement from time to time, coupled with a seeming indifference to the final result.
When it works, it’s breathtaking. Theo Walcott’s first goal today (Arsenal’s first as well) is a prime example. A series of passes that spanned the length of the field, at least eight, including a few deft touches, finished with a flourish by Walcott who ran onto a beautiful final pass from Arshavin in full stride. Just fantastic. But.
Too often the players look to score beautiful goals more than they look to score. The worst offender today was Carlos Vela, who beat three players with a series of lovely flicks, put himself across the goal mouth, but failed to put a shot on target.
Another time he took a lovely pass near the top of the box, feinted to create space, and then, where a real goal scorer would’ve had a pop, foolishly attempted to pass it a final time. End result: no shot on goal.
Arsenal will finish third and enjoy some of the best and worst moments of the season.
My verdict then: Guided by Voices, led by the mercurial Robert Pollard. A series of amazingly perfect songs, accompanied by piles of trash.
Merely an edit away from superstardom, but for every “Glad Girls” there are four “My Valuable Hunting Knife.”
Still, you never missed a GBV show or a Pollard release despite knowing that it would be imperfect, because the buried gems were more perfect than the best of anyone else.
A Salty Salute from Guided by Voices
Ach du lieber. They smash the weak. Smash them with a muscular and direct style. It is not aesthetically pleasing but it is brutally effective.
They’ve spent money like drunken sailors to put together an aging squad, but they are a juggernaut and should win the league.
He’s the King of the World
My verdict: James Cameron. Huge budget, predictable fireworks, success in the face of criticism, no lasting artistic merit.
Never bet against their ultimate success, but be prepared to be equal parts disgusted and fascinated with their approach. They’ll finish first.
Manchester United
A bit tricky, this one. I have to put aside my feelings about Sir Alex and his squad of hackers and thugs. Man U is efficient. They spend loads of money, usually well.
Their style of play is direct and dependent on predictable output from key pieces like Paul Scholes and Wayne Rooney.
They will play very dirty. They are always successful and well managed. I like them for second.
This is Manchester United
My verdict: U2. Sir Alex is Bono. A petulant whiner, roundly despised, with an overinflated ego and, yet, capable of consistently producing hit after hit, long after age should have dictated obsolescence.
U2 is guaranteed to have a Top Three grossing tour the second they announce shows, even if it is music that your parents enjoy more than you do.
Oh, Liverpool. How the mighty are in the process of falling. Now Dirk Kuyt wants to leave. Mascherano is on the way out. Benayoun has already left. Torres is a shell of the player he once was.
This is a team that will be well and truly out of it by December.
My verdict: Aerosmith. It’s like, come on now, Steven Tyler, pack it in, old man. You’ve had tons of success and been written off many times before.
Then, out of nowhere, “Cryin’” or “I Don’t Want Miss a Thing” would come out and carry you forward a bit more.
But the well is dry. The land is barren. You keep falling off the stage. Dunzo.
Manchester City
The rich pretenders, spending money foolishly, incapable of building a squad sensibly. Also, they won’t succeed.
Because no matter how many highly paid mercenaries you put together, ultimately you need a system the players believe in, and you need some scrappers with heart to make it work.
Man City lacks both. Spend all you want, fools, you can buy players but not a team. And only teams win.
My verdict: Chinese Democracy-era Axl Rose. You need Slash. You need Duff.
You really can’t do it with money and mercenary players alone. Because you end up with pure shit.
Ouch
Ah, Fulham. Darlings of the American heart for their long history of advancing American footballers. I want to enjoy watching them a lot more than I actually enjoy watching them. They aren’t going anywhere – neither up nor down. They’ll be solidly mid-table, forever.
My verdict: Dave Matthews Band. Bland. Unexciting. Multi-cultural. Suicidally boring.
Emerson Made Ants More Interesting
Well, I love Tim Cahill. If he played for the Arsenal then I think they’d have a shot at winning everything. And I love Mikel Arteta. But they don’t have the funds to move farther up the table and they lack the squad depth to remain competitive when the fixtures thicken.
My verdict; High on Fire. Matt Pike is a beast. But it’s a three-piece stoner rock band from Tucson. Where’s that going to take you? It tops out playing to 150 people on a Wednesday night at Walter’s on Washington. Which is a fine thing, but won’t get you out of your day job.
Matt Pike Will Make a Gravity Bong Out of your Skull
Wigan
How are they in the Premiership? Well, they won’t be for long. Shattered by Blackpool. Bashed by Chelsea. They’re just, well, awful.
My verdict–Donk music, which originated in their home town. Don’t believe me? Watch the “Blackout Crew” video below and you will. This is Wigan to the core:
This Is the Worst Thing Ever
Tottenham
Periodically, they do something that makes them seem mildly interesting. And they always have a few good pieces–I love Luka Modric and Gareth Bale, for example. But the sum of the whole is never the equal of the parts.
The team has no heart, no spine. They won’t compete for a top four finish. They’ll finish seventh or eighth. Next season, the pundits will all pick them to surprise again–and they won’t, again.
Spurs = John Mayer
My verdict–John Mayer. Dude can play the guitar. And he’s a decent singer. But he sucks like a whirling vortex. “Your Body of Work Is a Wonderland of Shit.”
Here’s a secret that Aston Villa fans know–James Milner isn’t worth half of what Man City paid for him. Neither was Gareth Barry. And Villa won’t miss them much either.
They will enjoy having Petrov, Stewart Downing will have a huge season, Ashley Young is still getting better, and they have a really solid line of forwards. I like Villa to finish in the Top Six, although not the top 4. But everyone is going to be a little surprised by it.
They Outsell Every Band You Like — They Are Aston Villa
My verdict–Nickelback. Yeah, they suck. And we’ve all written them off. And then you find out they sold 7 million records. Son of a bitch.
West Ham
Once the incubator of young talent, its academy admired by even the biggest clubs, it has fallen off considerably from its halcyon days. This year, it will be in the dog fight for relegation.
My verdict–Ryan Adams. Anyone else remember Whiskeytown? Or his first solo record on Bloodshot, “Heartbreaker?” Then riddle me this– what the hell happened???
“Come Pick Me Up” off of Heartbreaker
Newcastle United
Loyal, loyal fans. Shit, shit football. The Newcastle United way.
Back to the days of a drunken Paul Gascoigne wrecking cars, through Alan Shearer’s majestic heyday as a player and disastrous managerial stint, Newcastle has never stopped engendering fierce loyalty and garnering poor results.
That won’t change. They’ll finish 14th and have the third- or fourth-biggest average homecrowd. Geordies are bad-asses, but their club sucks.
Cult-like Following, Terrible Product — Widespread Panic and Newcastle United
My verdict – Widespread Panic. These bastards sell out festivals everywhere, because every upper-middle class white college kid with a cocaine and prescription habit loves to awkwardly shimmy to its bizarre classic rock/aimless song combo. I don’t get it, never will.
A surprisingly solid side. Really workman-like, although I like James McFadden for a spark and think Cameron Jerome is quality. Somehow they will finish in the Top 10. No one will be able to figure out why or how. The answer is Alex McLeish.
My verdict–the Black Keys. At first, you’re thinking, “just get a bass already.” And then you hear the final recording and you know, yeah, the song-writing is kind of mediocre, sure the lyrics are cliched, but man does it sound awesome.
This Is an Incredibly Well Recorded and Produced Song
Stoke City and Bolton
No need for much discussion. They’ll battle for 15th, but probably not be relegated. They’ll lead the league in studs-up tackles and bleeding head wounds. This is easy.
They Will Punch You, Bruise You, and Batter You — They’re Just Not Good
My verdict, they are both Sepultura. They still tour, kind of. And people still go. But it is unlistenable (and unwatchable).
I’m not going to run through the rest of the also-rans. Blackpool is going straight back down. West Brom will follow them. Sunderland and Blackburn burn the eyes.
Give me your thoughts and comparisons.
From the FanTake blog: Pitchmen
Follow on Twitter: @PitchmenGoal
