The Douche high five

5. Needs to air it out: The New Pornographers

No Neko Case while headlining a North American tour = slight douchebaggery.

4. Starting to ferment: Willie Nelson

For his "new" single Coywboys are Frequently, Secretly Fond of Each Other... right in time for the post Brokeback Gay Cowboy movie craze. Apparently written in the 80's, now Willie decides it's a good time to release it? Definite douche material.

3. Definite and discernable odor: Jamie Foxx

Does anyone else smell a familiar douching smell in a pop-crooning Eddie Murphy? Extra douching for trying to pimp his CD at the NBA All-Star game last week for no apparent reason.

2. 'Wow, that's some serious stench. I can taste it from here.': The Sex Pistols

Snubbing the Rock 'n Roll Hall of Fame by saying they're not 'monkeys: http://jam.canoe.ca/Music/2006/02/24/1461279-ap.html

Correct me if I'm wrong, but didn't they make one album? Serious douchebaggery for wasted potential and extra points for still having a crazy haircut. You'd think by now Johnny Rotten would be a Kirby vacuum cleaner salesman and at least own a cinder-block propped RV.

1. Douchebag extrordinaire: Susan Evans, the executive director of the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame Foundation

For responding to The Sex Pistols with this: "They are being the outrageous punksters they are, and that's rock and roll."

Although I sense no stench, it's clear Evans has been hitting the douchepipe far too much when she's probably seething with rage that some 50-year-old meatheads just took a swing at her vag.

The Flaming Lips: At War with the Mystics

Raise your hands to those who saw Brad Beasley's doc The Fearless Freaks and actually gave a shat about their music before the Soft Bulletin.

See, that cricket and dust-bunny across a lonely highway sound is just a further testament to the late-breaking genius of Wayne Coyne, Drozd and Co.

There aren't a whole lot of 40+ year old musicians who can write a Sesame Street ditty gone wrong like The Yeah Yeah Yeah Song, while still offering a backhanded glove slap to Britney and Gwen Stefani in The Sound of Failure.

Although the album will probably get crushed under the giant balls of high expectations in the bearded hipster arena, it sits as a step sideways to Yoshimi. There's a lot of the whimisical noise-making from the sucky-era of the Lips, but unfortunately, a lot of the melody and embracing of pop that defined the Lips in the post-sucky era is lost.

James Blunt must be a god

Please don't hate James Blunt.

Aside from having a name most likely created by a nun and Method Man, he's a former army captain and could probably turn your body into a bleeding pretzel.

But more importantly, he's given me countless hours of unbridled entertainment by singing these words in a quivering faux-falsetto: "Yoahr Beeu-Ti-fALL.... h....it's truh!" The 'f' is silent.

In fact, I've managed to ruin a bride-to-be's first dance at her wedding reception.

The man is a god I tell you. If sap were shit, the Blunt craps out maple syrup with little itty bits of corn from yesterday's dinner.

Click here to read The Aural Douchebag eating his words regarding James Blunt.