I Hate the Poor

A merry little ditty. When Steve brought it to us, as a number rejected by Hagar the Womb, (I know, surviving on Hagar the Womb scraps, would you f***ing believe it!) we were duly sceptical, and as affronted as Tabitha Twichet. We only played it for laughs and, as Mr Madell keeps regularly reminding us, on the premise that he is an undiscovered songwriter of singular genius. But those la-la-las grew on us, and grew and grew… the song acquired a semblance of shape and a Dead Kennedys rifftastic vibe (in fact, I kept referring to it as ‘Kill the Poor’ for several months)… until, eventually, we all managed to finish at the same time. Add Katy’s dulcet tones to contrast sweetly with the scathing satire, and the songsmithing was done…

There are those who so easily get the wrong idea. So, to avoid a Raheem Sterling tattoo social media backlash: a word of warning: this is IRONY folks. You remember irony? Here is an explanation, with Slovenian subtitles:

Irony seems to have disappeared in the era of Trump, as betokens an indicator of higher intelligence. So, we don’t really hate the poor. Honestly. Having cleared that up, what we are perhaps attempting to do, to stem the tide of crushing ignorance, is to bring irony back into fashion as it seems to have no place in our schools and universities, and appears to be rapidly fading from our public lives, our glorious leaders, and dogsbody managers. The best irony is gentle, affectionate, subtle and nuanced. This song is none of these things.



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