| Hello, pop pickers! Over the years, we've shaken a tail feather to the likes of Phil Collins, bust a few moves to Kriss Kross (gonna make you jump) and even done the Funky Chernobyl to the sounds of Jazzy Trevor McD and the Furious Cakes. Though throughout the rich musical starter-combo-platter-to-share-with-a-friend that is the wonderful kaleidoscope of the World of Pop, there has always been the dark undercurrent, poking its finger in the butter, that is Herman pop music. So sit back and not enjoy, as we take a not so marvellous journey through the tunnel full of rat shit and tampon seepage that is Herman pop. | 
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| 1923 Swingbeats and Jazzbop have taken London by storm, thanks to the sudden influx of American G.I. Joes, who got a bit excited and turned up way too early for World War II. You can't move for nylons and gum chums and the dark, smoky jive parlours are alive with the sounds of The Beep Beeps, The Daddy Oh Bollocks and the like. Meanwhile, though, in a turnip field in Hatton Cross, we see the typically Herman Effort Quintet trying to jam a rather complicated jazz standard they made up, A Shade of Kumbaya My Lord. They get as far as one note before the bongo player gets his head stuck in a fence. Then they all go home and hide behind the sofa when Muffin the Mule comes on the wireless, and piss in their pants. |
| 1966 Everyone is turning up, tuning on and dropping off some heavy tabs of L.S.D. and then wigging out. Yes, it's the Swinging 60s and the scene is the Grotto Club in the heart of Merseyside, Liverpool, Up North Somewhere. John, Pope, Gregg and Disco have just left the stage after their first ever gig at the club. They exit stage to a riotous applause, little knowing that they had just invented pop music as we know it today. Now it's time for the main act. The original band has pulled out because one of them fell over and trod on his eye. The manager is pulling his hair out, but not for long. Enter Jack Shatbucket, lead belmer of The Cunts. They're a skiffle-time beat combi from the back streets of Liverpool's notorious Hatchback Estate estate. What's more, they're Hermans. Within 5 seconds of lead guitarist, Benwold Cardboard accidentally setting fire to his arms, they are booed off stage and the entire building blows up and everyone is instantly killed by AIDS - and history is born. Here we see a C.G.I. recreation of the album they may have released, had they not been so desperately shit. | 
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| 1973 Let there be ROCK. Britain leads the way in turgid, beardy 70s guitar-wank. And the Hermans are no exception. Brian Law and his wife, Oinky Tits are making sweet fucks on Brian's farm. They have several children, some of who will end up as prominent Hermans in the world today, as we know it. This album was made by sticking a microphone up Mrs. Laws arse and then recording the sounds of their sweet bacon makin'. |
| 1977 It's off to the East Coast of Californ-eye-ay. Peace and love are still very much in vogue, and a new wave of awareness is sweeping across America in the wake of the Vietnam War, which must have ended around then, or possibly quite a few years earlier. Nobody is more aware than this children's gospel soul band, whose music sounds a bit like those songs you used to get on Sesame Street. You know - "If you got an apple you must share it. Ya really gotta share it, cos the world's a great big button. De dum de dum de dum etc" Their greatest hit was "Why Does Fourfoot's Dad Bum Us?", which was released in the wake of the sensational capture of the notorious Norbury J. VauxhallCarlton. He was finally caught after a horrendous thirty year violent noncing spree across thirtyseven states. | 
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| 1989 The Hermans enter Eurovision with "I want to do a poo poo please". Nil pwants. |
| 1995 The Bronx. Gangsta Rap is blazing its way through the U.S. charts with a motherfucking Uzi. Meanwhile, this Herman MC has soiled himself while he tries to drink Um Bongo from this specially made device. Specially made by his mum, who being Herman, has not got a fucking clue. He eventually died of thirst. The ghetto has no friends. Stop the violence, increase the humanity. | 
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| TODAY Hate it or really hate it. Or really, really hate it, Herman music is here to stay. You can't go down to your local Aldi without tripping over several crates of Herman CDs that the manager has stuffed up a pigeon's nest round the back, in the hope that the Environmental Health doesn't find out. So let us leave you with the latest Jamragster ringtone by Herman girl-band Jizzelle, entitled "I've wet 'em. Me knicks are pissy, look." Go on, please. Take it. Take it away, ladies. |
