You know, I really wish this band didn’t exist.  No reflection on their music or anything – I just wish they’d bloody well made their minds up and bitten the big one when they said they would. I say this because, before they kissed and made up I had what was, very nearly, officially The Last Ever Interview with Thursday.

The scene: Wembley Arena, at the tail end of a My Chemical Romance tour a couple of years ago.  I am mooching around backstage, pissing off MCR with my refusal to give a crap about them while they fail to give a crap about a load of cancerous children (long story) and I’m ushered in to make nice to their support act’s lead singer on behalf of some indie mag that I’m ‘working’ for.  Suddenly I find myself face to face with a bona fide pretentious waste of space. I interview him and a week later they’ve Officially Split Up.

Well, the bastards are back together again, apparently with no consideration for my professional credibility.  How very dare they.

So what were Geoff Rickly and co. actually like?  My notes from that interview write Geoff himself off as a bit of a wanker and Thursday’s live performance was… interesting…

“From the moment the first impenetrable chord sank down onto the crowd from the speakers right to the final beseeching request for us to Party Like It’s 1999 (when most of their audience would’ve been about 7/8) Thursday maintained a good, solid set and an energetic on-stage presence. I think the best bit was when the lead singer swung his microphone around by the lead and hit himself in the head.”

“Ugliest moment of whole gig: ‘We’re from New Jersey – have any of you been to New Jersey?’ ::mindless universal screaming from crowd:: ‘It’s a dirty fucking cesspool, and I think that’s why it makes great bands like My Chemical Romance – ‘ ::huge amounts of screaming:: ‘ – just like London, right?’ Cue gut-wrenching silence.”

As for Rickly himself: “I would expect less attitude from Elton bloody John.  If I’d known I was being granted an audience with such an esteemed personage as Mr Rickly, I would have practised my curtseys.  You’d almost think his band was any f*cking good, but: no.  Mediocre in the extreme.”

I’d love to predict that my assessment was no longer correct and that Rickly is now an interesting and personality-rich human being with whom I would happily spend quality time, but I very much doubt that continuing to sell albums and put bums on seats will have done that to him.

His band, however, has at least got vaguely less common-place. The rest of the outfit is wholly sound, with some great hooks and interesting bass work. I doubt this has anything to do with him, since his singing is still flat, reedy and out of tune. He also seems to like wailing into the microphone from the other end of an empty swimming pool.

Still, I suppose every band needs a frontman. I do begrudgingly recommend this album, but preview a few tracks first if you can – just to make sure you can see past the pointless wailing emo at the front.

So. Delirious. Who? What? More importantly, why? Well – this is rock for Christians: rock with roll, sex and drugs removed using surgical precision. Music to speak in tongues to.

If you switch your head off (not that I’m making any judgements on Christians generally *cough*) this band are okay. Good tunes, great vocals and lord knows they put spirit into it (a ha ha ha ha)…

The problem is, it’s really, really hard to look at it from that angle, because the religious message is so brutally hurled at you. They rammed it into my head so violently I had to keep touching my face to see if there was blood on it. I’m listening to it now and I literally can’t fit any more annoyance into my body. For an atheist, it’s immensely angry-making.

There are so many aspects to it that illustrate the point that I stopped making a list after track two. God Is Smiling – I mean, how do they know? God-cam? Lyrics like ‘when hearts are broken, love unites’ display a twee discordance that reveals incredible naivety, setting the scene for what is a highly vomit-inducing album.

However, Christians really get off on this stuff. What do you think? Is God smiling? Personally, I think he’s making sick-noises.

I chose the song above because it’s on this album, but as a whole their videos are very well-watched, revealing a surprisingly large Young Christian community. Just think. These people are everywhere. They could be your friends, your cousins… Either way, they’re going to be crushed when they find out that Delirious are planning on splitting up at the end of this year. Personally I’m thinking of hosting a small party, which may or may not involve goat-blood pentagrams, drug-taking, condoms and self-harm.

I digress. For your amusement/horror, here are some of the comments about Delirious that are splattered across various disgustingly earnest YouTube videos:

I love this song! its so beatifuL! I luv Delirous! There AWESOME! And AMAZING!
Niomefive

this is a very good song i luv it if you keep doing this God is going to be very happy with you GOOD JOB!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
feedfrenzy

WOW. I cant stop jumpin for God. RAIN DOWN ON ME
rubenramirezsuarez

And so concludeth the lesson.

Imagine you’re a cock-rocker.  You’ve got the crazy hair, the pout, and most importantly the legs to pull off those sewn-on faux snakeskin trousers. You’ve nailed that look, FUCKING NAILED IT.

However, you find yourself in a difficult situation. You’re passe – a one-trick pony taken out to pasture – and what’s more, by a chunky-looking farmer with one cartridge in his shotgun and a determined look on his face. Your one-hit-and-run-wonder has long been locked away, and possibly executed for Crimes Against Music.

What now? Where’s that market ?-That niche in the musical echelons with your name wedged in it?

Well, Justin Hawkins keeps desperately trying to carve his, with diminishing returns. But what he fails to take into consideration is the harsh process of natural selection.  Obviously he was at home with the sniffles and a Lemsip (carefully administered by an over-zealous mummy) when they did Darwin at school.

Yes, that’s right, you heard me – the very existence of Justin Hawkins is contrary to the laws of nature. For, unlike Justin, Mankind has moved on since that hilarious novelty Christmas single. Yes – ‘novelty’. In fact, if this piece were to be boiled down to one cynical word, that word would be it.

Now, the obligatory cursory nod to the atrocity that is this album. Unfortunately, having listened to it three times in order to write this review, it’s got into my bloody head. That doesn’t mean it’s any good, though: it is, of course, mind-numbingly awful. You’re expecting squealing, bombastic classic rock and audio posturing, yes? Spot on. Move along, absolutely nothing to see here.