PAOLO NUTINI'S GUT

I saw this tonight, jiggling away under a floral shirt as it's owner went fucking mental.

Last Christmas I bought my Nana two new albums. The Black Keys - Brother, and Nutini's second album where he has a hat on. She's a greedy hag for music and wants to know everything about fucking everything that is going on. She reads Q magazine and makes me take her to gigs. Unfortunately, Black Keys weren't in town, but Nutini was. I only bought her the fucking album because it was beaten into my mind from being on REPEAT REPEAT REPEAT in the bookshop I worked in when it was released, and I thought for once I should get her something 'nice'.

I took my Nana to the gig as an act of pure selfless love. I laughed when Mr Nutini came onstage looking more like the above loser stoner than the smooth faced floppy haired youth all the hags of Sunderland had paid their money to see. Imagine your disappointment. For the past year, as your obese husband pumps away on top of you, you wince and turn your face so drops of his rancid sweat miss your eyes. You try and make your body feel something by imagining a beautiful boy.

WELL HE'S GONE, BITCHES. 

Live, Nutini sounds like he's having his balls pushed slowly up his anus with a fountain pen. Lots of screaming. It's quite amazing. Radio friendly shitstorms like 'New Shoes' almost turn into quite frightening, sarcastic attacks on consumerism. Scream it with me: YEAH, I PUT MY NEW SHOES ON, AND SUDDENLY EVERYTHING IS RIGHT!! Black Flag have nothing on him. 

Not really. He pulls out the ballads and everyone sings along and throws hats at him. A woman behind us quite disconcertingly shouts 'I LOVE YOU POWLO' in a serial killer monotone, before, after, and during every song. Middle aged women actually headbang to his ballads while weeping. So far so awful. But what changed my mind about this poor bastard was his completely unaffected spazzing out, screaming, and being a little more dirty than his audience actually want. His raunchier stuff goes down like a shit sandwich. People sit down and look scared. I hope those songs were new and Nutini becomes some kind of scuzzy garage icon. His performance and songs were practically rock n roll in a time when even the rock n rollers are standing still and shoegazing. I will always have a soft spot for sweaty frontmen who don't make prolonged yearning faces or choreographed arm movements. The drunker you look the better. Nutini looks pretty drunk. He's clearly a filthy little bastard. 

However just because he wanked his mic stand a bit doesn't mean I like the doyle. I actually laughed all the way through his rubbish Marley-esque reggae number - his accent on that is so racist. Check it out. What a dick.

I GIVE PAOLO NUTINI'S GUT 8/10. 

His gut and general aging might mean he sheds his boyband image - if he ever starts writing about anything other than 'love' he could be a serious contributor to music. But seeing as he's a lardy stoner, the songs about laying down, smoking 'freaky cigarettes', and your shoes making you happy will probably continue. However, it is the shining symbolic promise that this boy could become a man. Like tits on a girl. Budding, blossoming and beautiful. Long may it grow.