“Pyjamas lyin’ side by side / Ladies’ nighties I have spied / I’ve often seen what goes inside / When I’m cleaning windows.” George Formby: When I’m Cleaning Windows (1937) – banned by the BBC
“Fuck what I said, it don’t mean shit now / Fuck the presents, might as well throw them out / Fuck all those kisses, it didn’t mean jack / Fuck you, you ho, I don’t want you back.” Eamon: Fuck It (I Don’t Want You Back) (2003) – played (with swearing removed) on daytime BBC radio stations, helping the song to Number 1 in the UK singles chart.
Just after a decade ago, in the aftermath of the September 11th terrorist attacks, a number of songs were banned by a range of radio stations following what is known as the Clear Channel Memorandum. These included When Will I See You Again by The Three Degrees, Bullet With Butterfly Wings by The Smashing Pumpkins, and the entire recorded oeuvre of Rage Against The Machine. Some artists were forced into other action: Bush renamed single, Speed Kills, to The People That We Love, Jimmy Eat World similarly updated Bleed American to Salt, Sweat, Sugar, The Strokes pulled New York City Cops from all subsequent editions of debut album, Is This It, and hip-hop duo The Coup hastily removed copies of their recent LP, Party Mu$ic, from shops due to its eerily prescient cover art.
People’s capacity to be easily offended can never be under-estimated. One person’s harmless remark is another’s devastatingly cruel barb. However, at the time, I couldn’t help but think people would probably have more pressing concerns than reading too much into what was being played on the radio. Of course, it’s better to be on the safe side, but the eagerness to cover all bases and ensure no offence was caused was a little on the over-zealous side. The Strokes were being hailed as counter-cultural icons, the figureheads of a zeitgeist-capturing scene – was anybody really going to be horrifically offended by their proclamation that New York City Cops “ain’t too smart”?
Since then, taking offence and apologies have become more and more commonplace. Politicians and celebrities “mis-speak”, jokes are taken out of context, comedians argue the toss over whether words have transcended their original meaning or not. Meanwhile, Outraged Of Tunbridge Wells fires off an email to Ofcom if Katy Perry so much as glances salaciously at a television camera. However, there have been no blanket bans on songs in the UK in such a manner, temporary or otherwise, since 2001. In fact, the BBC now go as far as to say they have a policy to not ban songs on their radio stations, which are listened to millions of residents each day.
Is this a good thing or not? As British tabloid, the Sunday People, once asked: must we fling this filth at our pop kids?
The list of songs banned by the BBC is a fascinating historical document which shows changes in what is and isn’t deemed acceptable over time, as fashions, trends and culture develops. There’s an hilarious missive from the Dance Music Policy Committee, written in 1942, which states: “We have recently adopted a policy of excluding sickly sentimentality which, particularly when sung by certain vocalists, can become nauseating and not at all in keeping with what we feel to be the need of the public in this country in the fourth year of war.” In its time, the BBC has banned A Day In The Life by The Beatles (which, technically, is still banned), Mack The Knife by Bobby Darin and Gloomy Sunday by Billie Holiday, amongst others. However, in more recent times, they’ve happily played Because I Got High by Afroman (practically a love letter to marijuana), Fuck It (I Don’t Want You Back) by Eamon (and its reply, F.U.R.B. (Fuck You Right Back) by Frankee) and S&M by Rihanna (though it was referred to by the title, Come On, by DJs).
Ultimately, times have changed, but although censorship and regulatory bodies still loom large in everyday life, pop music now seems to be almost beyond such standards. Jonathan Ross and Russell Brand caused a national scandal by leaving an – admittedly, unprovoked and cruel – answer machine message for actor Andrew Sachs, yet it’s fine to play songs which glamorise the taking of illegal intoxicants. UK viewers complained in their thousands about the provocative performances of Rihanna and Christina Aguilera on The X Factor, but myriad hip-hop videos which demean women and portray them as scantily-clad objects of lust fulfilment raise little more than a shrug.
Earlier this year, The British Board of Film Classification refused to grant a certificate to The Human Centipede 2 (Full Sequence) due to its content, the first time this had happened for over two years (it was subsequently given an 18 certificate following the removal of several scenes). It makes you think what a song would have to do to cause similar consternation because it now seems – profanity before the watershed aside – anything goes. One thing’s for sure, we’ve certainly come a long way since Lucy In The Sky With Diamonds was deemed too offensive for the public’s sensitive ears.
Pop music reviews, features and interviews from the pen of Joe Rivers.
Sunday, 27 November 2011
I'm With the Banned
Labels:
9/11,
BBC,
censorship,
culture,
Eamon,
George Formby,
Joe Blogs,
profanity,
Rihanna
Content is free
Last week, people from The Guardian revamped the sport section of their website and officially launched The Guardian Sport Network. According to the blurb, they’ve “partnered with a range of sites to diversify [their] content and promote an open model of journalism.” This means they’ve identified some of their favourite amateur bloggers, and will be running their contributions on The Guardian website alongside articles commissioned from their professional, paid staff and freelances.
For the casual reader, it’s a win-win situation. The Guardian is handpicking contributors, thus ensuring a degree of quality, and because they’re getting more content at no extra cost, there’s more chance The Guardian website can stay free for longer. Since its launch, I’ve read interesting, thought-provoking, well-researched articles about the decline of FC Porto, the lack of team harmony at Paris Saint-Germain and the race for the title in the top division of Brazil – all subjects unlikely to be published in a national newspaper due to their lack of British appeal. However, there’s a strong feeling that The Guardian is treating its new contributors unfairly; if their work is of a sufficient standard to make it onto the website of a national newspaper, surely they deserve remuneration.
Of course, The Guardian’s argument will be that it's offering talented writers exposure and giving them the platform to go on to bigger (paid) things. They do have a point; an article on The Guardian website is a fairly strong seal of approval and it has been known for amateur journalists to be offered work elsewhere as a result.
There’s a similar thing going on over at the music section too. “Seen any good gigs recently?” the website asks, inviting the readers to “tell us about any live music you’ve seen”. 2011 has also seen the introduction of a section for readers of The Guardian to review any of the 3 million or so albums they have in their database. So, if you’re fed up with the smorgasbord of reviews by professional journalists or highly-experienced amateurs, a few clicks will give you the musings on Lou Reed & Metallica’s “Lulu” by such luminaries as ‘Kalyr’, ‘JezebelDulac’ and ‘thesliurge’.
A touch of uncharitable jealousy? Quite possibly, and it’s probably time to show my hand. I’m a writer, I’ve had over a hundred articles published on websites and in print, but I’ve never been paid a penny for my work. I’m trying to forge a path in an industry where there’s incredible competition for every position, and poor pay, exploitation and nepotism are rife. A large percentage of the UK’s unpaid internships are in the media; I once asked someone what the best way to make it in journalism was, they replied, “have a parent who owns a newspaper”.
I have my scruples though, and I’ve never knowingly taken a job from a professional by writing a piece for free that would normally be paid. This conscientious attitude may end up being my undoing and clambering over rivals could be the only way to the top. If that’s the case, I want no part in it.
However, this debate is nothing new, and the growth of the internet has led to a rise in ‘citizen journalism’ already. You can now leave your comments on any major news story, television programmes invite us to text in, tweet our photos and have our say. This tends to reach its annual nadir when national news programs show pictures of snowmen and viewers’ gardens to illustrate how cold it is, rather than carry important news.
Quality content cannot continue to be free everywhere; it’s a completely unrealistic business model. The Times, The Daily Mirror and The Independent operate behind paywalls already, and The Sun is considering a similar move. It would appear The Guardian is opposed to such measures, and maybe the only way to give people content for free is to obtain it for free. Don’t expect everybody to be happy about it though; as good writing and journalism become under valued, a new generation of writers may have to see exposure and kudos as a worthy alternative to cold, hard cash. There’s a danger that journalism could become an exclusive club for the well-off, rather than an honest profession. It would seem that an “open model of journalism” roughly equates to “anything goes”.
For the casual reader, it’s a win-win situation. The Guardian is handpicking contributors, thus ensuring a degree of quality, and because they’re getting more content at no extra cost, there’s more chance The Guardian website can stay free for longer. Since its launch, I’ve read interesting, thought-provoking, well-researched articles about the decline of FC Porto, the lack of team harmony at Paris Saint-Germain and the race for the title in the top division of Brazil – all subjects unlikely to be published in a national newspaper due to their lack of British appeal. However, there’s a strong feeling that The Guardian is treating its new contributors unfairly; if their work is of a sufficient standard to make it onto the website of a national newspaper, surely they deserve remuneration.
Of course, The Guardian’s argument will be that it's offering talented writers exposure and giving them the platform to go on to bigger (paid) things. They do have a point; an article on The Guardian website is a fairly strong seal of approval and it has been known for amateur journalists to be offered work elsewhere as a result.
There’s a similar thing going on over at the music section too. “Seen any good gigs recently?” the website asks, inviting the readers to “tell us about any live music you’ve seen”. 2011 has also seen the introduction of a section for readers of The Guardian to review any of the 3 million or so albums they have in their database. So, if you’re fed up with the smorgasbord of reviews by professional journalists or highly-experienced amateurs, a few clicks will give you the musings on Lou Reed & Metallica’s “Lulu” by such luminaries as ‘Kalyr’, ‘JezebelDulac’ and ‘thesliurge’.
A touch of uncharitable jealousy? Quite possibly, and it’s probably time to show my hand. I’m a writer, I’ve had over a hundred articles published on websites and in print, but I’ve never been paid a penny for my work. I’m trying to forge a path in an industry where there’s incredible competition for every position, and poor pay, exploitation and nepotism are rife. A large percentage of the UK’s unpaid internships are in the media; I once asked someone what the best way to make it in journalism was, they replied, “have a parent who owns a newspaper”.
I have my scruples though, and I’ve never knowingly taken a job from a professional by writing a piece for free that would normally be paid. This conscientious attitude may end up being my undoing and clambering over rivals could be the only way to the top. If that’s the case, I want no part in it.
However, this debate is nothing new, and the growth of the internet has led to a rise in ‘citizen journalism’ already. You can now leave your comments on any major news story, television programmes invite us to text in, tweet our photos and have our say. This tends to reach its annual nadir when national news programs show pictures of snowmen and viewers’ gardens to illustrate how cold it is, rather than carry important news.
Quality content cannot continue to be free everywhere; it’s a completely unrealistic business model. The Times, The Daily Mirror and The Independent operate behind paywalls already, and The Sun is considering a similar move. It would appear The Guardian is opposed to such measures, and maybe the only way to give people content for free is to obtain it for free. Don’t expect everybody to be happy about it though; as good writing and journalism become under valued, a new generation of writers may have to see exposure and kudos as a worthy alternative to cold, hard cash. There’s a danger that journalism could become an exclusive club for the well-off, rather than an honest profession. It would seem that an “open model of journalism” roughly equates to “anything goes”.
Wednesday, 23 November 2011
Tumble Bee
Laura Veirs - Tumble Bee
released 7 November 2011 on Bella Union
One of the joys of music is the thrill of discovery. Whether it’s on the recommendation of a friend, prompted by a well-written review, or completely by chance, there’s a sense of satisfaction that accompanies finding a really great song or album of which you had no prior familiarity.
Before you reach that stage, however, you’re likely to listen to whatever your parents play and, in recent years, a sub-genre of adult-friendly kiddie music has been steadily growing. Presumably, the aim of such an exercise is to tempt children away from the babbling nonsense they find so appealing and get them to listen to something that doesn’t make Mummy and Daddy want to stove their own heads in. However, there’s something about it that somehow smacks of snobbery, and there’s a nagging feeling that particularly opinionated parents will use such albums to condition their children into listening to music they “should” enjoy.
Tumble Bee, Laura Veirs' album of folk songs for children, doesn’t particularly buck this trend and unfortunately falls awkwardly between the cracks. Much of the instrumentation and production is beautiful and light, but it’s difficult to believe a child will be engrossed in this when they could be listening to Rihanna or playing Angry Birds.
Veirs has maybe been slightly naïve - though this does suit the innocent, nostalgic feel of the record. The majority of the songs here are covers, several are traditional folk tunes, and they are handled in a delicate and expert fashion. All The Pretty Horses is a plaintive ballad, gorgeously framed by sweeping strings - more of a lullaby than anything - and the jaunty, slightly out-of-tune piano makes Jack Can I Rider? utterly charming. The songs most likely to appeal to children tap into their inquisitive nature or feature repetition. Why Oh Why asks, “Why can’t a bird eat an elephant?” and “Why can’t a mouse eat a streetcar?” and King Kong Kitchie Kitchie Ki Me O features a nonsense chant the under-5s are sure to lap up.
Elsewhere, you wonder what Veirs believes will particularly tap into the child psyche. Lyrics aside, Little Lap-Dog Lullaby wouldn’t sound out of place on a Fleet Foxes record, and as good a song as it is, the title track’s verse is in 9/8 time – it doesn’t exactly scream “one for the kids”, does it?
Ultimately, it seems Veirs has tried to do two things at once and has ended up doing neither particularly well. Despite this, it’s actually a rather enjoyable record, though it’s difficult to imagine when you’d ever play it. If you’re in the mood for something with a touch of pedal steel, you’re not going to reach for an album whose opening line is “Come up, horsey, hey hey”. Similarly, if Junior’s looking for kicks, finger-picked folk meditations are unlikely to be on the menu. Perhaps it’s a compromise album – put it on during a long car journey with the family to pass half an hour and no one’s likely to kick up a fuss.
released 7 November 2011 on Bella Union
One of the joys of music is the thrill of discovery. Whether it’s on the recommendation of a friend, prompted by a well-written review, or completely by chance, there’s a sense of satisfaction that accompanies finding a really great song or album of which you had no prior familiarity.
Before you reach that stage, however, you’re likely to listen to whatever your parents play and, in recent years, a sub-genre of adult-friendly kiddie music has been steadily growing. Presumably, the aim of such an exercise is to tempt children away from the babbling nonsense they find so appealing and get them to listen to something that doesn’t make Mummy and Daddy want to stove their own heads in. However, there’s something about it that somehow smacks of snobbery, and there’s a nagging feeling that particularly opinionated parents will use such albums to condition their children into listening to music they “should” enjoy.
Tumble Bee, Laura Veirs' album of folk songs for children, doesn’t particularly buck this trend and unfortunately falls awkwardly between the cracks. Much of the instrumentation and production is beautiful and light, but it’s difficult to believe a child will be engrossed in this when they could be listening to Rihanna or playing Angry Birds.
Veirs has maybe been slightly naïve - though this does suit the innocent, nostalgic feel of the record. The majority of the songs here are covers, several are traditional folk tunes, and they are handled in a delicate and expert fashion. All The Pretty Horses is a plaintive ballad, gorgeously framed by sweeping strings - more of a lullaby than anything - and the jaunty, slightly out-of-tune piano makes Jack Can I Rider? utterly charming. The songs most likely to appeal to children tap into their inquisitive nature or feature repetition. Why Oh Why asks, “Why can’t a bird eat an elephant?” and “Why can’t a mouse eat a streetcar?” and King Kong Kitchie Kitchie Ki Me O features a nonsense chant the under-5s are sure to lap up.
Elsewhere, you wonder what Veirs believes will particularly tap into the child psyche. Lyrics aside, Little Lap-Dog Lullaby wouldn’t sound out of place on a Fleet Foxes record, and as good a song as it is, the title track’s verse is in 9/8 time – it doesn’t exactly scream “one for the kids”, does it?
Ultimately, it seems Veirs has tried to do two things at once and has ended up doing neither particularly well. Despite this, it’s actually a rather enjoyable record, though it’s difficult to imagine when you’d ever play it. If you’re in the mood for something with a touch of pedal steel, you’re not going to reach for an album whose opening line is “Come up, horsey, hey hey”. Similarly, if Junior’s looking for kicks, finger-picked folk meditations are unlikely to be on the menu. Perhaps it’s a compromise album – put it on during a long car journey with the family to pass half an hour and no one’s likely to kick up a fuss.
Labels:
Bella Union,
Laura Veirs,
music for children,
Tumble Bee
The Singles Bar - 21/11/11
The British public are often referred to as, “The Great British Public”. However, this cannot be in relation to their record-buying habits. After declaring the genius of Nicola Roberts (see Singles Bar passim), Lucky Day limped to number 40 in the charts. That was bad enough, but after granting the first ever perfect score to über-star Beyoncé, a woman whose voicemail greeting message could probably break the Top 20, the song in question (Countdown) only reached number 35. People of Britain, I ask: what is wrong with you?
On that cheery note, here are this week’s reviews which wield no influence whatsoever, despite my best efforts.
Mary J. Blige – 25/8
Now, here’s an interesting title to kick things off. Is the track in 25/8 time? Or maybe Mary’s decided to adopt the UK date format and sing a paean to the 25th August? A minute later, the truth reveals itself, and it’s a bit of a damp squib. Apparently, 24/7 isn’t enough for Mary to love her man, so she needs another hour and a day; hence 25/8. It would appear Ms. Blige hasn’t moved on a great deal since her heyday, and this song could easily have come from the mid-90s. It’s got some insubstantial backing and a few strings tossed on top, but it all just goes to showcase Blige’s rather large set of pipes. So, if you like vocal gymnastics, and are more impressed by melisma and hitting notes than actual songs, this will be right up your street. Otherwise, avoid. 3/10
Serenades – Come Home
A lot of bands are taking their cues from the eighties these days, but on Come Home – the lead track from an EP of the same name – Serenades have made a track that actually sounds like it was recorded in 1985. There’s a charming cheapness to their sound, which recalls the popular Scritti Politti singles of the era, without the divisive high-register vocals. The Scandinavian duo have tapped into a rich vein of classic pop songwriting and – get this – have actually attempted to craft a proper Christmas tune. Come Home is a plea for a companion to return for the festive period; it has some chiming bells, and it’s really rather lovely. It’ll make you want to put on a woolly jumper, pour a glass of mulled wine and cuddle up with the one you love. Unless you’re single, that is, whence you’ll be made bitter and resentful, but that’s your problem, not mine. 8/10
Will Young – Come On
If you look up Will Young on Spotify, the first four related artists are Daniel Merriweather, The Lighthouse Family, Simply Red and Susan Boyle, which I feel is a little bit harsh on our Will. Sure, he’s unlikely to be pioneering a new offshoot of chillwave any time soon, but he’s fronted some reasonable singles in his time. Like the Serenades track above, there’s a distinct retro feel to the accompaniment, but here it seems a little more of an afterthought than a stylistic choice. While you don’t go to Will Young records looking to be surprised, it could do with a bit more of the gusto that characterised his better songs. So, while it’s crying out for a dance remix, the radio edit falls a little flat. Still, it’s a darn sight better than any of those related artists. Sort it out, Spotify. 5/10
Britney Spears – Criminal
Poor old Britters. Forever the girl in the school uniform to an unforgiving public, her desire to maintain a pop career has resulted in personal problems left, right and centre. Is she happy? I hope so, but can’t see it myself, and her latest LP, Femme Fatale, is a collection of dead-eyed sexbot tracks that could have been fronted by anyone. Criminal sounds like the bubblegum pop of her earlier work – it’s a little rushed and tinny – but the producers have attempted to inject a touch of modernity with the beat. It’s not up to the quality of recent singles Till The World Ends or Hold It Against Me, but Femme Fatale also features the execrable Big Fat Bass (featuring will.i.am), so perhaps we should just be grateful she’s not releasing that. By anyone’s standards, this is a disappointment, but coming from the woman who gave us Toxic, it’s… you ready?… it’s coming full circle… it’s obvious… you must have guessed… it’s CRIMINAL! Do you see?! It’s the name of the song! That’s why it’s funny! 2/10
Big Deal – Distant Neighbourhood
Sometimes, you can take a dislike to a band without hearing a note of their music. Looking up Big Deal’s album, Lights Out, I discover it contains a song called Cool Like Kurt, and my heart sinks. However, I put on Distant Neighbourhood, and my mood immediately changes. There’s a real sunshine, slacker charm to this song, reminiscent of a more shoegaze-indebted Lemonheads, that’s difficult to dislike. Sugar-sweet boy/girl vocals propel the song along, plus a generous helping of reverb and distortion. Oddly, there’s no percussion at all in Distant Neighbourhood, which is a brave choice but one that ultimately backfires, because the listener is left with a feeling of incompleteness, like the song never quite delivers on its promise. They certainly know how to craft a tunethough. 7/10
The Duke Spirit – Don’t Wait
Despite them being completely different acts, I’m forever getting The Duke Spirit and Duke Special confused. Not to look at, obviously, but I heard of them both around the same time and their names are too similar for my simple brain to process. It’s clearly my loss, as Don’t Wait instantly draws you in to the intriguing and intricate world of The Duke Spirit. The vocals are full of longing, and a wall of guitars introduces the chorus exactly when the song is crying out for it. It’s a good track, and there’s little to complain about, but it does seem The Duke Spirit aren’t firing on all cylinders, and that they’ve got better tracks up their collective sleeve. Also, the longer the track wears on, the more it reminds me of Feeder, which can’t be good, can it? 7/10
Chase & Status and Sub Focus – Flashing Lights
Chase & Status are the chart-friendly arm of dubstep, and quite possibly victims of their own success. Due to their ubiquity, and that of similar artists, their songs are often indistinguishable from tracks by Example, Nero, Pendulum et al. Flashing Lights repeats their winning formula: guest vocals over a slow track with some heavy beats, flashes of Ibiza dance and house, and a feeling of strength-sapping familiarity. If you’re wondering where the “HUGE” bit comes in, it’s at the two-minute mark. There, now you don’t have to sit through the preceding 120 seconds of superfluous build-up. Actually, the “HUGE” bit isn’t even that huge. Four years ago, dubstep was the thrilling sound of the unknown. Flashing Lights just makes me want to put a Pentangle record on… and I don’t even own any Pentangle records. 2/10
The King Blues – The Future’s Not What It Used To Be
I actually saw The King Blues at a festival earlier this year, and I endured about ten minutes of their clichéd, tired, sixth-form, anti-establishment ranting before giving up and wandering off to get a burger. The Future’s Not What It Used To Be has an enticing mix of jaunty ska and haunting, Eastern horns, but the everything’s-gone-to-shit moaning in the lyrics is just so wearing, you want to give them a clip round the ear and tell them to go and get a proper job. There’s also an ill-advised, rap section in the middle – not good. I’m no political expert, but when people describe themselves as “anarchists”, as The King Blues do, I want to get away from them as quickly as possible before I’m bored to death. 3/10
Enrique Iglesias – I Like How It Feels (feat. Pitbull and The WAV.s)
Pop fact of the day: if you got all the songs from 2011 Pitbull has guested on and laid them end-to-end, they’d stretch round the world’s circumference three and a half times. I Like How It Feels comes from the deluxe edition (try to contain your excitement) of Enrique’s album, Euphoria, and follows such family-friendly, singalong ditties as Tonight (I’m Fuckin’ You). To the amazement and surprise of precisely no-one, this track is a dancefloor-focussed Latin-flavoured bore-fest that presumably requires a decent degree of intoxication before it becomes remotely interesting. Pitbull comes in for his obligatory cameo towards the end, brags a lot, compares himself to global warming, and then leaves. When historians look back at the music of 2011, this kind of thing will be depressingly prevalent. 1/10
Grouplove – Lovely Cup
If someone asks you, “what do you think of Lovely Cup by Grouplove?” you’d be well within your rights to report them for sexual harassment for daring to utter such a filthily suggestive phrase. However, rather than an arrestable offence, Lovely Cup by Grouplove is actually an addictive, jaunty, bounce-along of a track which deserves to be played loud on radios up and down the land. There are elements of new wave, slacker-rock, power pop and classic songwriting shimmering through this track, which really should have been released six months ago when it didn’t get dark sometime around 4.30pm. Sounding like the lovechild of The Rapture and Guillemots, Lovely Cup is the kind of track you could listen to again and again without getting bored. I’m going to try and spread the word about this song, though I’ll be sure to choose my conversational opener extra carefully. 9/10 – SINGLE OF THE WEEK
EMA – Marked
Well, it looks like we’re getting political. I was outraged when this government dropped the EMA; it was a fantastic scheme designed to keep young people in education, and if they think for one minute that… oh, the EMA in question here isn’t the Educational Maintenance Allowance, but Erika Anderson, formerly of West Coast band, Gowns. Marked is a bizarre, experimental song that’s so scratchy – in both music and voice – it makes for quite uncomfortable listening. However, there is some beauty beneath that rough surface, and persevere with Marked and you find a track reminiscent of the salad days of Stina Nordenstam. It’s still a harrowing experience in places, but never anything less than beguiling. 7/10
Kasabian – Re-Wired
Lad-rock peddling, sports-casual wearing, derivate, dumb, Oasis-worshipping, drug-glamorising, tedious, devoid of invention, own-hype believing, image-obsessed, deluded, melodically deficient, abominable, blight on society, beloved by idiots, laughable indie band Kasabian return with Re-Wired, a track that shows all the progress and intelligence of the Pope’s views on contraception. Like everything Kasabian have ever put their name to, it’s uniformly awful and has absolutely no redeeming features. It also sounds like everything else they’ve ever done, which was already a facsimile of what so many other bands had done before them to such an extent they were effectively photocopying a blank sheet of paper anyway. I’m normally quite good at seeing the positives in records and accounting for everyone’s tastes. However, Kasabian are terrible, I don’t like anything about this record or them, and if you like it, I will immediately think less of you. 0/10
Bleeding Knees Club – Teenage Girls
I can’t work out whether this band name/song title combo is slightly alluring or just a little pervy. Perhaps it’s meant to be both. Anyway, it fizzes with the kind of lo-fi, bubblegum energy that bands can only have at the very start of their career. It’s unrefined, trashy, and all the better for it. It’s also just over two minutes, which is the perfect length for such a track. Shades of Los Campesinos!, Those Dancing Days and The Ramones are in abundance and while it doesn’t exactly rewrite the rule book, it’s damn good fun while it lasts. A blast to blow away the cobwebs of your day, extremely welcome if you’ve just been listening to, let’s say, Kasabian, for example. 8/10
On that cheery note, here are this week’s reviews which wield no influence whatsoever, despite my best efforts.
Mary J. Blige – 25/8
Now, here’s an interesting title to kick things off. Is the track in 25/8 time? Or maybe Mary’s decided to adopt the UK date format and sing a paean to the 25th August? A minute later, the truth reveals itself, and it’s a bit of a damp squib. Apparently, 24/7 isn’t enough for Mary to love her man, so she needs another hour and a day; hence 25/8. It would appear Ms. Blige hasn’t moved on a great deal since her heyday, and this song could easily have come from the mid-90s. It’s got some insubstantial backing and a few strings tossed on top, but it all just goes to showcase Blige’s rather large set of pipes. So, if you like vocal gymnastics, and are more impressed by melisma and hitting notes than actual songs, this will be right up your street. Otherwise, avoid. 3/10
Serenades – Come Home
A lot of bands are taking their cues from the eighties these days, but on Come Home – the lead track from an EP of the same name – Serenades have made a track that actually sounds like it was recorded in 1985. There’s a charming cheapness to their sound, which recalls the popular Scritti Politti singles of the era, without the divisive high-register vocals. The Scandinavian duo have tapped into a rich vein of classic pop songwriting and – get this – have actually attempted to craft a proper Christmas tune. Come Home is a plea for a companion to return for the festive period; it has some chiming bells, and it’s really rather lovely. It’ll make you want to put on a woolly jumper, pour a glass of mulled wine and cuddle up with the one you love. Unless you’re single, that is, whence you’ll be made bitter and resentful, but that’s your problem, not mine. 8/10
Will Young – Come On
If you look up Will Young on Spotify, the first four related artists are Daniel Merriweather, The Lighthouse Family, Simply Red and Susan Boyle, which I feel is a little bit harsh on our Will. Sure, he’s unlikely to be pioneering a new offshoot of chillwave any time soon, but he’s fronted some reasonable singles in his time. Like the Serenades track above, there’s a distinct retro feel to the accompaniment, but here it seems a little more of an afterthought than a stylistic choice. While you don’t go to Will Young records looking to be surprised, it could do with a bit more of the gusto that characterised his better songs. So, while it’s crying out for a dance remix, the radio edit falls a little flat. Still, it’s a darn sight better than any of those related artists. Sort it out, Spotify. 5/10
Britney Spears – Criminal
Poor old Britters. Forever the girl in the school uniform to an unforgiving public, her desire to maintain a pop career has resulted in personal problems left, right and centre. Is she happy? I hope so, but can’t see it myself, and her latest LP, Femme Fatale, is a collection of dead-eyed sexbot tracks that could have been fronted by anyone. Criminal sounds like the bubblegum pop of her earlier work – it’s a little rushed and tinny – but the producers have attempted to inject a touch of modernity with the beat. It’s not up to the quality of recent singles Till The World Ends or Hold It Against Me, but Femme Fatale also features the execrable Big Fat Bass (featuring will.i.am), so perhaps we should just be grateful she’s not releasing that. By anyone’s standards, this is a disappointment, but coming from the woman who gave us Toxic, it’s… you ready?… it’s coming full circle… it’s obvious… you must have guessed… it’s CRIMINAL! Do you see?! It’s the name of the song! That’s why it’s funny! 2/10
Big Deal – Distant Neighbourhood
Sometimes, you can take a dislike to a band without hearing a note of their music. Looking up Big Deal’s album, Lights Out, I discover it contains a song called Cool Like Kurt, and my heart sinks. However, I put on Distant Neighbourhood, and my mood immediately changes. There’s a real sunshine, slacker charm to this song, reminiscent of a more shoegaze-indebted Lemonheads, that’s difficult to dislike. Sugar-sweet boy/girl vocals propel the song along, plus a generous helping of reverb and distortion. Oddly, there’s no percussion at all in Distant Neighbourhood, which is a brave choice but one that ultimately backfires, because the listener is left with a feeling of incompleteness, like the song never quite delivers on its promise. They certainly know how to craft a tunethough. 7/10
The Duke Spirit – Don’t Wait
Despite them being completely different acts, I’m forever getting The Duke Spirit and Duke Special confused. Not to look at, obviously, but I heard of them both around the same time and their names are too similar for my simple brain to process. It’s clearly my loss, as Don’t Wait instantly draws you in to the intriguing and intricate world of The Duke Spirit. The vocals are full of longing, and a wall of guitars introduces the chorus exactly when the song is crying out for it. It’s a good track, and there’s little to complain about, but it does seem The Duke Spirit aren’t firing on all cylinders, and that they’ve got better tracks up their collective sleeve. Also, the longer the track wears on, the more it reminds me of Feeder, which can’t be good, can it? 7/10
Chase & Status and Sub Focus – Flashing Lights
Chase & Status are the chart-friendly arm of dubstep, and quite possibly victims of their own success. Due to their ubiquity, and that of similar artists, their songs are often indistinguishable from tracks by Example, Nero, Pendulum et al. Flashing Lights repeats their winning formula: guest vocals over a slow track with some heavy beats, flashes of Ibiza dance and house, and a feeling of strength-sapping familiarity. If you’re wondering where the “HUGE” bit comes in, it’s at the two-minute mark. There, now you don’t have to sit through the preceding 120 seconds of superfluous build-up. Actually, the “HUGE” bit isn’t even that huge. Four years ago, dubstep was the thrilling sound of the unknown. Flashing Lights just makes me want to put a Pentangle record on… and I don’t even own any Pentangle records. 2/10
The King Blues – The Future’s Not What It Used To Be
I actually saw The King Blues at a festival earlier this year, and I endured about ten minutes of their clichéd, tired, sixth-form, anti-establishment ranting before giving up and wandering off to get a burger. The Future’s Not What It Used To Be has an enticing mix of jaunty ska and haunting, Eastern horns, but the everything’s-gone-to-shit moaning in the lyrics is just so wearing, you want to give them a clip round the ear and tell them to go and get a proper job. There’s also an ill-advised, rap section in the middle – not good. I’m no political expert, but when people describe themselves as “anarchists”, as The King Blues do, I want to get away from them as quickly as possible before I’m bored to death. 3/10
Enrique Iglesias – I Like How It Feels (feat. Pitbull and The WAV.s)
Pop fact of the day: if you got all the songs from 2011 Pitbull has guested on and laid them end-to-end, they’d stretch round the world’s circumference three and a half times. I Like How It Feels comes from the deluxe edition (try to contain your excitement) of Enrique’s album, Euphoria, and follows such family-friendly, singalong ditties as Tonight (I’m Fuckin’ You). To the amazement and surprise of precisely no-one, this track is a dancefloor-focussed Latin-flavoured bore-fest that presumably requires a decent degree of intoxication before it becomes remotely interesting. Pitbull comes in for his obligatory cameo towards the end, brags a lot, compares himself to global warming, and then leaves. When historians look back at the music of 2011, this kind of thing will be depressingly prevalent. 1/10
Grouplove – Lovely Cup
If someone asks you, “what do you think of Lovely Cup by Grouplove?” you’d be well within your rights to report them for sexual harassment for daring to utter such a filthily suggestive phrase. However, rather than an arrestable offence, Lovely Cup by Grouplove is actually an addictive, jaunty, bounce-along of a track which deserves to be played loud on radios up and down the land. There are elements of new wave, slacker-rock, power pop and classic songwriting shimmering through this track, which really should have been released six months ago when it didn’t get dark sometime around 4.30pm. Sounding like the lovechild of The Rapture and Guillemots, Lovely Cup is the kind of track you could listen to again and again without getting bored. I’m going to try and spread the word about this song, though I’ll be sure to choose my conversational opener extra carefully. 9/10 – SINGLE OF THE WEEK
EMA – Marked
Well, it looks like we’re getting political. I was outraged when this government dropped the EMA; it was a fantastic scheme designed to keep young people in education, and if they think for one minute that… oh, the EMA in question here isn’t the Educational Maintenance Allowance, but Erika Anderson, formerly of West Coast band, Gowns. Marked is a bizarre, experimental song that’s so scratchy – in both music and voice – it makes for quite uncomfortable listening. However, there is some beauty beneath that rough surface, and persevere with Marked and you find a track reminiscent of the salad days of Stina Nordenstam. It’s still a harrowing experience in places, but never anything less than beguiling. 7/10
Kasabian – Re-Wired
Lad-rock peddling, sports-casual wearing, derivate, dumb, Oasis-worshipping, drug-glamorising, tedious, devoid of invention, own-hype believing, image-obsessed, deluded, melodically deficient, abominable, blight on society, beloved by idiots, laughable indie band Kasabian return with Re-Wired, a track that shows all the progress and intelligence of the Pope’s views on contraception. Like everything Kasabian have ever put their name to, it’s uniformly awful and has absolutely no redeeming features. It also sounds like everything else they’ve ever done, which was already a facsimile of what so many other bands had done before them to such an extent they were effectively photocopying a blank sheet of paper anyway. I’m normally quite good at seeing the positives in records and accounting for everyone’s tastes. However, Kasabian are terrible, I don’t like anything about this record or them, and if you like it, I will immediately think less of you. 0/10
Bleeding Knees Club – Teenage Girls
I can’t work out whether this band name/song title combo is slightly alluring or just a little pervy. Perhaps it’s meant to be both. Anyway, it fizzes with the kind of lo-fi, bubblegum energy that bands can only have at the very start of their career. It’s unrefined, trashy, and all the better for it. It’s also just over two minutes, which is the perfect length for such a track. Shades of Los Campesinos!, Those Dancing Days and The Ramones are in abundance and while it doesn’t exactly rewrite the rule book, it’s damn good fun while it lasts. A blast to blow away the cobwebs of your day, extremely welcome if you’ve just been listening to, let’s say, Kasabian, for example. 8/10
Labels:
Big Deal,
Bleeding Knees Club,
Grouplove,
Serenades,
singles,
singles bar,
The Duke Spirit,
Will Young
Saturday, 12 November 2011
Sticks + Stones
Cher Lloyd - Sticks + Stones
released 7 November 2011 on Syco
In a recent interview, boy-band JLS revealed how devastated they were that, after finishing runners-up on 2008’s X Factor behind Alexandra Burke, Simon Cowell passed up the opportunity to sign them, despite the fact they practically begged him to. “As soon as the show finished, we asked him to give us a deal,” said the sensitive one; “he just point-blank refused,” cooed the non-threatening one, non-threateningly. “But,” pouted the pretty one, while simultaneously doing a backflip and lifting his t-shirt to show a sculpted six-pack, “it turned out to be the best thing to ever happen to us!” “…”, added the one who no-one outside of his immediate family realises exists.
Despite the fact all the quotes in the previous paragraph were entirely fabricated, the story JLS were alluding to very much did happen, and they could well have a point. Simon Cowell may make an obscene amount of money through his myriad entertainment enterprises, but the acts signed to his label, Syco, do tend to be of a certain type. The current buzz around Tinie Tempah acolyte, Labrinth, notwithstanding, most of his acts are bedroom balladeers, and very lucrative they prove for him too. Not all his protégés are overjoyed at this approach – witness the laughable struggle of Matt Cardle and his attempts to realign himself as a credible musician – and JLS have serendipitously avoided the same fate. They’re now free to work with Calvin Harris and Dev, and make chart-friendly dance-pop instead of being forced to become BoyzII Men II.
Which leaves us with the interesting conundrum: what do you do with a problem like Cher Lloyd? The teenage singer, fourth on last year’s X Factor behind implausibly fresh-faced One Direction, Rebecca Ferguson and “Credibility” Cardle, polarised opinion with her brash style and fondness for rapping. All four finalists are currently signed with Syco and of the quartet, it’s Cher who seems to be the least obvious fit. Push her towards lighters-aloft, supermarket-friendly balladry and you risk losing what made her different in the first place. Let her do her thing, and you’re letting an 18-year-old dictate her own career path while going against strongly entrenched Syco policy.
Lloyd’s debut album, Sticks + Stones, starts better than you’d ever dared imagine. Despite her misguided assumption that she’s “got a flow that will make your mother and your father call the cops,” opening track,Grow Up, is an incredibly fun slice of bratty, bubblegum dancehall. Her rap style is raw at best, and the cameo from Busta Rhymes is odd, but there’s plenty of room in the ongoing soap opera of pop for a pantomime, carefree, outspoken, anti-authority teen. She’s following the fine tradition set by artists such as Althea & Donna, Vanilla and Daphne & Celeste. This trend continues with following track, Want U Back, which is packed with hooks and has Cher’s personality stamped all over it.
Current single, With Ur Love, is another good, catchy song, save for a hateful Mike Posner guest spot, which paints him to be the kind of lecherous predator you pray doesn’t take your daughter to prom. However, the turning point of Sticks + Stones arrives with Swagger Jagger; comfortably the most bizarre song to reach the top of the UK charts in 2011. Swagger Jagger is a mess – a brain-melting mix of sirens,dubstep beats, shouty vocals, and the chorus to 19th Century folk ballad, Oh My Darling, Clementine. Lloyd is full of bravado and self-confidence, informing us that we can’t stop “tweetin’ ‘bout” and “YouTubin’” her, but then telling her “haters” (which are apparently legion) that it was “very, very, very nice to meet ya.”
Swagger Jagger will make your mind unravel and, fittingly, the album then begins to do the same. Beautiful People is the kind of syrupy, pointless ballad Syco-affiliated acts specialise in, and completely the wrong kind of song for Cher Lloyd now she’s not preoccupied with trying to win votes from suburban housewives on primetime television. Over The Moon repeats the same “trick” as Swagger Jagger, grafting an in-your-face verse to an ill-fitting, camp chorus to create a genetically-modified monster. And quite frankly, the less said about the 21st Century re-working of Buffalo Stance, here entitled Playa Boi, the better.
After a promising opening trio of tracks, Sticks + Stones wanes badly, and begins to sound more and more like it’s been focus-grouped by industry executives in pursuit of a quick buck until there’s barely any semblance of character left. It’s understandable really, Cher Lloyd is living the dream of millions of girls worldwide and isn’t likely to upset the applecart.
The sad fact is, Cher Lloyd may need a change of direction to achieve any kind of longevity. She’s positioned at the end of the market where her fans will soon grow up and move on and – depressing as this is – she could be on the pop scrapheap before she’s out of her teens. There is a glimmer of hope though; the penultimate song, Dub On The Track, shows the kind of sound she might be wise to pursue. It may sound like a cut-off from the Katy B album, and Cher may sound slightly overwhelmed by the production, but street-smart, urban-flavoured pop could be the way forward for her. Featuring Mic Righteous, Ghetts and Dot Rotten, Dub On The Track doesn’t forge a brave new way ahead for music, but it’s a sliver of hope from an otherwise dispiriting final two-thirds of the album.
It appears Cher Lloyd is signed to a label who have limited ideas of what best to do with her. Counter-intuitive as it may sound, Sticks + Stones bombing and Lloyd being dropped could be a blessing in disguise. Besides, she wouldn’t be the first X Factor alumnus to find success outside of the all-encompassing Cowell media empire.
Labels:
Busta Rhymes,
Cher Lloyd,
Dot Rotten,
Ghetts,
JLS,
Mic Righteous,
Mike Posner,
Sticks + Stones,
Syco,
X Factor
The Singles Bar - 07/11/11
“Is there room for one more at the singles bar?” crooned Tracey Thorn on her 2010 track of the same name. She may well have been talking about this week’s reviews as we have – count ‘em – 14 of the little blighters for your perusal this week. Therefore, don’t waste your time reading this blurb, get on to the meat of the article below!
The Wombats – 1996
The European Football Championships, A Design for Life by Manic Street Preachers and Harry Enfield And Chums on VHS – it’s a well-known fact that 1996 was the best year in human existence. So, kudos to The Wombats for writing a song about it, though the fact it was 15 years ago makes me feel depressingly ancient. Head Wombat Matthew Murphy was born in 1984, and 1996 is a paean to how things were better and simpler in those times. Sadly, it’s fairly musically uninspired and the lyrics are exceptionally clunky at times (“We were cloning sheep in the 90s”). The track features the distorted guitars and synths that now seem to be The Wombats calling card and the whole thing is ultimately forgettable. Murphy also sings he“can’t forget those teenage kicks,” which, given his year of birth, suggests maths may not be his strong point. 4/10
Cage The Elephant – Aberdeen
There’s a challenge to answer here – is this track about the Scottish coastal city, or the constantly disappointing steak restaurant franchise? I don’t know, and I’m not sure I care, as Aberdeen (the song) is the kind of by-numbers alternative rock that you want to ignore. Furthermore, vocalist Matt Shultz has a VERY irritating, whiny voice which means you imagine all the lyrics to be about something he wants but can’t have, so he’ll probably be stomping up to his room to listen to LOUD GUITAR MUSIC because no-one understand him. Or something like that. Anyway, it’s depressingly derivative and a dangerous lesson in what happens when people who shouldn’t make music listen to Nirvana records. 2/10
Dennis Hopper Choppers – Girl Walked Out Of Town
There’s something of the spaghetti Western about Girl Walked Out Of Town, which is surprising when you consider Dennis Hopper Choppers (presumably the name Kathy Bates Roller Skates was taken) hail from the South Coast of England. There’s a real American desert feel to the sound, which is at odds with the rich, smooth vocals, yet the contrast seems to work perfectly despite itself. The organ melodies recall The Doors at their debut-album peak, and there’s an element of sleaze and punk just beneath the surface. Idiosyncratic, interesting music that deserves a wider audience. 8/10
Maverick Sabre – I Need
Maverick Sabre was born in Hackney, where presumably there was a consonant shortage in the early 90s. This is the only possible explanation for his frankly bizarre singing style where every vowel is stretched over several syllables, and the clarity and diction would make an elocution tutor book a one-way flight toDignitas. I Need is actually a fairly dull song with an element of the overly tasteful sound that was the result of over-exposure to the Bristol trip-hop scene. However, that voice completely over-powers the track and any hope of rescuing it; it’s actually quite unpleasant to listen to. There’s a smattering of soul starting to creep back into the charts, which can only be a good thing, but you’d be best advised to stay away from Maverick Sabre. 1/10
The Kooks – Junk Of The Heart
While several years ago the sheer ubiquity of The Kooks made them irritating beyond belief, their contrasting fall from grace now makes you almost pity them. Junk Of The Heart is the kind of soaring, sunshine pop that’s unlikely to make them reconnect with a younger audience, but could perhaps win them a whole, new one. Of course, the vocals are grating and vowel-heavy (what is it with these London singers – weak jaws maybe?), and The Kooks seem to have misplaced the melodic alchemy that made tracks like Naïve and She Moves In Her Own Way such earworms. Not long ago, they seemed like they could have been the biggest band in Britain, now you’d struggle to tell this apart from a bunch of identikit songs by The Wombats, The Hoosiers et al. 4/10
Sunday Girl – Love U More
I wish solo artists wouldn’t have names that make them sound like they’re actually bands – it could confuse a stupid person. Anyway, Jade Williams – AKA Sunday Girl – must be well thought of, she’s worked with Diplo and has deals with both Geffen and Polydor. On the evidence of Love U More, it’s difficult to see why, as it’s the kind of dance track you’ve heard a hundred times before. The Balearic boom may have been a decade ago now, but Love U More aims to rekindle the relationship between slow, faceless vocals and anthemic, keyboard-heavy production. However, I don’t really recall anyone asking for that to come back, so let’s just pretend it didn’t happen, shall we? 2/10
Loick Essien – Me Without You
I’m quite upset to learn that Loick Essien doesn’t appear to be related to Chelsea footballer, Michael. He is, however, an R&B singer who’s worked with Bashy, N-Dubz and Chipmunk, which is the musical equivalent of having a CV that says you’ve worked with Sarah Palin, Kim Jong-Il and Anthea Turner. There’s no edge at all to this syrupy track, which would appear to be targeted towards young ladies (no doubt spelt, “laydeez”) as a romantic ballad. It actually sounds like the thing Simon Cowell might consider giving one of his X Factor protégés to record as a Christmas single and it makes the collected works of Luther Vandross look like the Aphex Twin. Seven songs down and only one that’s any good? I’m losing the will to live here.1/10
Tinchy Stryder – Off The Record
This has been remarked upon before, but Tinchy Stryder – along with Dizzee Rascal – heralds a generation of British grime MCs with names that sound like scruffy, lovable urchins from Victorian novels. Anyway, as our roguish hero strides tinchily through life, he’s sadly lost inspiration, as Off The Record lacks any of the zip and energy that made previous tracks hits. He appears to also just be rapping whatever comes into his head first, which is never good. The backing is the work of producer of the moment, Calvis Harris, but curiously, this sounds like people making a bad version of what a Calvin Harris and Tinchy Stryder record should sound like. Lawks, cor blimey, guv’nor etc. Not either gentleman’s finest work. 4/10
Chris Brown – She Ain’t You
The people who scheduled this week’s single releases clearly weren’t aware that I’m a man of finite patience. So, down to work then. She Ain’t You is the new single by violent misogynist Chris Brown and borrows heavily from Michael Jackson’s Human Nature and SWV’s Right Here. It’s also immeasurably worse than both those tracks. It sounds wan and weak, and Brown’s vocals have been auto-tuned a little too harshly. I’ve just found a review for this track’s video on the website of radio station 92.3Now FM, that suggests, “She Ain’t You is definitely a song for the ladies… maybe even for pop star Rihanna,” which is probably one of the most dispiriting and insensitive things I’ve ever read. So, before I go into a rant about celebrity “news” “journalists”, I’ll just list the redeeming features of this track instead: …oh. 0/10
JLS – Take A Chance On Me
They may be a boyband and X Factor alumni, but I’ll go out on a limb and say JLS have had a handful of cracking singles (Beat Again, Eyes Wide Shut). However, this isn’t one of their better efforts. It’s a piano-led ballad; a bit of a downer really, as it’s the kind of style they’ve tended to avoid in the past. However, it’s harmless enough and – given the standard of what’s gone before it in this review – pretty listenable. It’s a little on the slick side and unlikely to progress their career too much further but there are worse crimes in this world, like for example, celebrity journalists who [That’s enough; let it GO! – Ed.]. 5/10
Manic Street Preachers – This Is The Day
Ah, we can always rely on The Manics, can’t we? Er, can’t we?! The initial signs aren’t good, with drum machine and over-elaborate piano fills, but soon the guitars come in and it’s unmistakeable MSP. However, the Manics haven’t really been at the peak of their powers, single-wise, for a while now, and This Is The Day sounds like they’re trying a bit too hard. In fact, it’s a little wet and lacking in substance. This track is the last song on their new, chronologically-ordered singles collection, and if you compare it to Slash N’ Burn, Little Baby Nothing and Faster amongst others, the prognosis is not good at all. However, it’s not terrible, even if it does seem to represent the MSP turning into the stadium indie band they swore they’d never become two decades ago. 6/10
Kele – What Did I Do?
In the rather pathetic fall-out around the reunion (or non-reunion) of Bloc Party, it’s kind of been forgotten that Kele’s been branching out in an entirely different direction, and making a pretty decent go of it, truth be told. What Did I Do? starts by sounding like it could be straight from the Katy B album, then a female vocal actually takes the lead. It’s rare someone can be so adept at two musical styles which are so contrasting. There’s some fairly heavy dubstep gubbins going on around the edges too, and Kele’s actual involvement seems to be fairly restricted. However, this doesn’t stop What Did I Do? being a pretty damn fine effort. It forms part of an EP called The Hunter, which on this evidence, is well worth investigation. 8/10 – SINGLE OF THE WEEK
Pixie Lott – What Do You Take Me For?
It’s a little-known fact that Pixie Lott has it written into her recording contract that at least 90% of each of her legs must be visible at any one time. Other interesting Pixie Lott facts include her not really being a pixie and… um, her love of mustard sandwiches (that one may be made up… and the first one as well).What Do You Take Me For? is the sound of Pixie Lott moving away from the sugary pop that’s served her well and into more urban territory. The production isn’t too bad at all; horns and descending bass give it a sensual, Latino feel, but Pixie Lott’s honking all over the top of it doesn’t really do it justice. I’d guess she’s trying to be sexy, but it comes off more desperate than anything. 4/10
Jessie J – Who You Are
Jessie J’s surname is actually Cornish, which means she should be prosecuted under the Trades Description Act immediately. Who You Are is the title track from her inexplicably popular album and is – joy of joys – a self-empowerment ballad. It starts off inoffensively enough, but, that voice – what in the name of Godley and Creme is it?! Jessie J is at the forefront of a breed of singer who believes that power and melisma trump melody and control, and the result is truly ugly songs like this. In fact, of all the weeks of doing the Singles Bar, this is the first track I didn’t even make it to the end of. So, if the final two minutes ofWho You Are are a challenging look into the human psyche where Jessie J invents an entirely new, never-before-seen genre of music known as nu-post-oompah-gaze, then I apologise. However, I’m going to stick with my prejudices and assume it’s yet more drivel that would make even the deaf wince. 0/10
The Singles Bar - 31/10/11
The nights are getting darker, the days are getting colder and Christmas albums are already beginning to hit the shops (both Justin Beiber and She & Him released their festive efforts today). Luckily, you can still rely on the Singles Bar to give you a warm glow and put a spring in your step, as well as giving you the lowdown on all that’s going on this week in music. You lucky, lucky people.
Charlie Simpson – Cemetery
Six years is practically a lifetime in pop music and a lot has changed since Charlie Eyebrows left Busted in 2005. First, McFly took their crown as kiddie-friendly pop-punks du jour, and then children decided they wanted to listen to Rihanna and didn’t like guitars that much anyway. Simpson has made a pretty decent fist of his post-mainstream career, initially with hardcore quartet Fightstar and now solo. Cemetery is a jaunty, singalong strum-fest that meanders along quite harmlessly. It’s spoiled somewhat by young Charles’ insistence of injecting “emotion” into every syllable by growling and/or over-enunciating, but hey, it’s a decent three-minute pop song. Melodious, hummable and well-written, just stop trying to “keep it real”. 6/10
Beyoncé – Countdown
You’re never quite sure what to expect from the fragrant Ms. Knowles. Her album, 4, has already produced one stormer (Run The World (Girls)) and one clunker (Best Thing I Never Had) so a lot could hinge onCountdown. Luckily, it’s pure genius from start to finish. It races through its allotted time with frenzied percussion and genuinely thrilling horn stabs throughout. There’s also a – you’ve guessed it – countdown which samples Boyz II Men. Mixing dancehall, hip-hop, R&B and mariachi, Countdown appears to be about everything and nothing all at once. It’s also had me walking round for the last week or so singing, “Grind up on it girl, show him how you ride it!” which is entirely inappropriate for a man in his mid-20s. It’s so strong that it’s fit to go toe-to-toe with the best R&B singles of the past decade: Kelis’ Millionaire, Janelle Monáe’sTightrope and, of course, Crazy In Love. So, is it Single of the Week? More like Single of the Year. 10/10 – SINGLE OF THE WEEK (AND POSSIBLY THE WHOLE YEAR)
Kelly Rowland – Down For Whatever
Cruel, cruel alphabet, making the title of the new Kelly Rowland track come immediately after that of her erstwhile bandmate. Whereas Beyoncé is pushing the boundaries, Kelly Rowland is following the tried and tested tropes of pop music in 2011. Down For Whatever is yet another example of the continuedGuettaisation of music which sounds like countless other anonymous house-inspired tracks. There’s also more than a passing resemblance to the music that backs Pitbull’s rap sections in Jennifer Lopez’s monster smash, On The Floor. Cynics may like to point out that Ms. Rowland is mostly devoid of clothing in the video for this song and is currently enjoying much prime-time exposure on British television as an X Factor judge. Well, I’m a cynic then. 3/10
Connan Mockasin – Faking Jazz Together
I wrote an opening sentence mocking (hur hur) Connan for his ridiculous stage name, but did some research and, as far as I can make out, it’s his genuine name. Anyway, Faking Jazz Together is onetrippy, psychedelic mind-messer of a song; marginally discordant notes reveal themselves all the time and there are swimmy, reverb-soaked background vocals. The first three minutes or so sound like a chillwaveFlaming Lips backed by tribal percussion, but then it all fades away before starting up again. Faking Jazz Together is the kind of otherworldly track that completely transports you and is an utterly gorgeous, immersive experience. Highly recommended and a staggering piece of work. 9/10
Sean Paul – Got 2 Luv U (featuring Alexis Jordan)
Sean Paul records tend to be exceptionally irritating and Got 2 Luv U, from its text-speak title downwards, is no exception. It features his usual blend of dancehall and Caribbean rhythms, but it appears even he isn’t immune to the creeping influence of David Guetta, the man responsible for all that is homogenous is today’s pop music. Alexis Jordan’s voice is fairly indistinguishable from a handful of other female singers and the whole thing ends up sounding like a calculated attempt at staying relevant. Well, hats off and well done to these two for creating the mix of tired dancehall and ubiquitous early-90s house that precisely no-one was waiting for. 2/10
The Drums – How It Ended
It always seems like the amount of column inches dedicated to The Drums is inversely proportional to their popularity and the quality of music they actually make. How It Ended is a case in point, it’s nice enough but there’s nothing particularly of any note to report. It sounds a bit like something from Vampire Weekend’s cutting room floor spruced up with vibrato-heavy synths and annoying “eurgh eurgh eurgh”backing vocals. If this is a particularly short synopsis, then it’s because it represents the lack of interesting aspects of this track. How very post-modern of me. 5/10
Little Dragon – Little Man
Little Dragon released a rather fine album earlier this year, Ritual Union, whose title track was a thing of sheer delight. Little Man doesn’t quite reach those heights, but its icy synths and nonplussed percussion sure are compelling. In the chorus, the vocal line matches the keyboard melody effectively, and the track continues to build and add elements throughout its playing time. It also achieves the all-too-rare feat of not sounding over-crowded, and as such it shows admirable restraint. At less than three minutes, it doesn’t outstay its welcome either, so while it may not be a heart-stoppingly breathtaking piece of music, it’s a great listen and has that all-important go-back-and-play-again factor. 7/10
Doctor P – Neon
A quick bit of online research reveals that Doctor P is a dubstep producer known to his Mum as Shaun Brockhurst, and this is a new version of a track that’s been available for over a year. He’s also not a real doctor. Sounds like those on Neon would have seemed unusual a couple of years ago, but dubstep has infiltrated the mainstream to such an extent that this doesn’t seem like anything particularly new or refreshing. It’s fairly low BPM as dubstep goes, and would be better off soundtracking a video game or clips montage than being released as a stand-alone single. It’s a little faceless, and needs more ideas to justify its running time. Is dubstep in danger of jumping the shark? 3/10
Birdy – People Help The People
The Singles Bar can be a touch on the caustic side occasionally, but I’ll try and be nice here because Birdy – the nom de rock of Jasmine Van den Bogaerde – is a mere 15 years old. This is the third single from her forthcoming solo album, and they’ve all been piano-based cover versions (following Skinny Love andShelter). Originally, this was a hit for Cherry Ghost and it’s difficult to see what Birdy’s added to it. This trend for stripped-down reimaginings of songs is reaching critical mass, likely prompted by Radio 1’s Live Lounge cover version policy and television talent shows, and it’s completely baffling. Presumably, reducing a song to its elements displays some level of “authenticity” in the minds of the artist or arranger, but more often than not, it’s simply dull. Birdy has a fantastic voice that belies her tender years, but her career is unlikely to have any longevity if she continues to be marketed in this way. Her management will likely spend the next few months getting themselves in a flap trying to contact anyone who worked on the Adele album. 4/10
Toploader – She Said
Poor Toploader, they’ve become a byword for everything that was wrong with early 21st Century British indie. Dancing In The Moonlight was everywhere, Jamie Oliver liked them, and there was THAT hair. After several years away, they’ve made a low-key comeback and She Said is certainly rockier than ‘ver Loader were in their heyday. As expected, they’ve managed to crowbar in an anthemic chorus that’s signposted from a good few miles away; like a Jennifer Aniston film, you know everything that’s going to happen when you’re only 5% of the way through. They’ve had a rough time of it and are nowhere near as hateful as they’re made out to be, but She Said means they rank alongside Feeder, Athlete, Embrace et al as insipid stadium indie practitioners. 2/10
Gruff Rhys – Space Dust #2
Well this was a surprise. Super Furry Animals are generally known for their progressive, forward-thinking pop-rock, but frontman Gruff Rhys teams up here with Sarah Assbring (a.k.a. El Perro del Mar) for a beautiful slice of lounge music. It’s an old-fashioned duet with each singer replying to a line sung by the other and it’s beautifully adorned with sweeping strings. The drumming is jazzy and loose too; it’s not at all the kind of thing you expect to see released as a single in 2011 and it’s a real breath of fresh air. Gruff Rhys has been making music for nearly two decades now and is still producing inventive, interesting, vital work. How many people can you say that about? 8/10
Avril Lavigne – Wish You Were Here
Despite having seemingly been playing a stroppy teenager for around a decade, Sk8r G1®L Avril Lavigne is actually 27 years old. Once every few years, she stops with the bratty persona and releases a ballad to prove to everyone that she’s a real person with, y’know, feelings and stuff. Sadly, ladies and gentlemen, that time has come around again. Wish You Were Here is a drab mope-fest with as much get-up-and-go as a mortuary in the middle of a power cut. The chorus mainly consists of Lavigne wailing “Damn, damn, damn”; perhaps the nadir of this whole sorry exercise. At times, she can be good fun (like on Girlfriend) but this is the kind of insipid ballad even the Goo Goo Dolls would balk at. 1/10
Cher Lloyd – With Ur Love
Cher Lloyd has followed up the frankly bizarre Swagger Jagger with a much more restrained song. However she still can’t refrain from alluding to “swag” during the verses – extremely apt, as Cher hails from Malvern in Worcestershire which, as we all know, is the spiritual home of swag. Swagger Jagger was a mind-melting mix of heavy dubstep and nursery-rhyme pop and there’s a suspicion she may have put all her eggs in one basket, as With Ur Love contains none of the edge that propelled her to fame. In fact, it’s a relatively insubstantial R&B track with a grating cameo from Posner, although it does have an extremely catchy melody. Her album will certainly be an interesting listen, if nothing else. 5/10
Wednesday, 2 November 2011
My Band T-Shirt
Marvellous writers and lovely people Ian Wade and Jude Rogers run a blog called My Band T-Shirt. It's been featured in The Daily Telegraph, The Guardian and has been Time Magazine's "Tumblr of the Week".
They've been kind enough to publish something I wrote for them, which you can read here. According to Jude, it made both her and Ian cry. I should point out that this is due to the content of the story rather than because of the standard of my writing...
They've been kind enough to publish something I wrote for them, which you can read here. According to Jude, it made both her and Ian cry. I should point out that this is due to the content of the story rather than because of the standard of my writing...
Labels:
live,
London,
My Band T-Shirt,
Red Hot Chili Peppers
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