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Let’s be honest, there were some pretty amazing rockers who were also mega-wusses like Freddie Mercury and Prince. But we put up with it because those guys could kick ass musically. Sadly, today we have a class of rockers that might have inherited Elton John’s style but certainly not his talent. This new generation of pussiness must be stopped, for the sake of the ears and eyes of music fans everywhere so CRACKED is outing the biggest wusses in rock today.

The Smashing Pumpkins’

Billy Corgan and James Iha

Can you imagine the fights these two guys had when the band was together? It probably looked like two five-year-olds slap-fighting over a Matchbox car. Corgan would pull on Iha’s highlighted hair. Iha would use his perfectly manicured hands to slap Corgan. Corgan would cry and his eyeliner would start to run. Embarrassed that his makeup was ruined, he would scream “I’m going to start MY OWN band and it’s going to be called Zwan and we’re going to be the best!” and run off.

Chris Cornell

Witness how far this former grunge star has fallen from his bad-ass heyday. Ten years ago Chris Cornell was a borderline metalhead with long hair and a guitar tuned to dropped D. Now look at him. The decline started with his joining the skeletal remains of Rage Against the Machine to form Audioslave and churning out a few albums of middle-of-the-road rock for dads to listen to on the way to weekend softball games. And the fall has continued now that he’s pooped out that gutless theme song for the new James Bond movie (see video evidence below).


Aside from being a wimp who makes music for car commercials, this guy is the living embodiment of the uber-liberals that give Democrats a bad name. When he’s not entertaining clueless baby boomers at MoveOn.org events, he’s busy writing liner notes that lecture you about the joys of veganism. Speaking of veganism, his hairless pale, fragile frame looks like he hasn’t ingested any iron in years.

Belle & Sebastian

Yes indie dorks and twee-lovers, even we admit their lyrics are smart, they’re good song writers. But come on people, their songs sound like kittens purring into a microphone! These guys are so wimpy they make Bert and Ernie look like M.O.P. They make a child’s tea party look like a public beheading.


Voxtrot is from Austin, Texas. How the fuck did these guys make it out of there alive? Texas is a state that eats lesser wusses alive (see Pauley Shore) so how did these five mega-pussies survive unscathed to adulthood? It would have been tough for this many skinny indie dweebs to survive high school in suburban Connecticut. Just looking at them, it’s hard not to get a pang of maternal concern for their fragility. They seem so innocent, so small. You can picture them shivering in the cold rain, smoking a clove outside a venue before one of their shows, tiny sweaters getting all wet. Then an elderly man walks by and drops his cane and accidentally crushes the entire band.

Bright Eyes’
Conor Oberst

This dude really wants to be Bob Dylan, but not only would Dylan destroy him in a battle of music, he’d also kick ass physically. And we don’t mean when Dylan was young, even the aging gross mustache-having Bob of today could take Oberst on right now. But Oberst doesn’t claim to be a fighter, just a little dude who sounds like Daniel Johnston and looks like K.d. Lang (except with less muscles). 

Sufjan Stevens

This man played a show wearing butterfly wings. Butterfly wings? Sure, being sensitive can get you chicks but this is taking it too far. What’s next? Going on stage with lanyards and making key chains for grandma? Half-hour nappy time breaks midway through sets? If anyone needs to go for a ride with Denzel Washington in Training Day mode, it’s Sufjan.

The Killers’

You can grow a mustache and try to be Bruce Springsteen all you want, Brandon but we still know you like prancing around in eyeliner and singing break-up songs to 14-year-old girls. And picking a fight with The Bravery doesn’t help either. That’s like getting a wedgie from the school bully and beating up your little brother to feel better about it. Oh, and your last name is Flowers. You are the perfect example of why performers should take stage names.

Panic! at the Disco

Shame on you America for not only tolerating such wussiness but for allowing it to find success. Imagine seeing yourself in the mirror dressed like that, with that ridiculous hair, and saying “Hey, I look great, just gotta straighten my miniature tie and I’ll be good to go!” Just looking at their serious smug faces makes you want to shove them inside a locker. Who do these little punks think they are, writing songs with titles like, “The Only Difference Between Martyrdom and Suicide is Press Coverage”? Even Morrisey would smack these guys around if he had the chance.

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