| I've been half on the lookout
for some sort of Eminem-style action since my bros introduced me to
it in the incongruous environs of a plush ski resort. Certainly didn't think I'd find it from that from this, the
bloke who made what has to be the genre's equivalent of Bryan Adams'
'Everything I do (I do it for the money)' on that Sting-penned
sickly sweet tune that was No 1 for about 132 weeks. Anyway, seek no
more, this is whiteboy-style rap but this sounds a bit more, erm,
'real'. Beastie-style Zep-esque guitar riff drives through it, but
'P' sounds smoother than liquid velvet. |
|
| Was a bit disappointed by
"Stop Your Crying" but this one hits the spot. The punk
style lyrics "I'm going to spend the day in bed/and I plan on sleeping
my life away" blend in with the classical arrangements
seamlessly. Poppy both in its catchy chorus & in its sentiment ("I love you like I
love the sunshine in the morning")
and more than a nod to the Beach Boys' Pet Sounds. Can't see Mr Pierce
taking up surfing, mind. |
|
| Thought the previous Finn tune
was unmemorable, so has been duly deleted and, erm, forgotten. This
40-sthg rocker seems to be undergoing Sting-style creativity after
the dissolution of Crowded House. Let the melody wash over you.
Is there any relation between Ice, Eskimos and Finns?
|
|
| An updated eighties take --
Amityville-esque pattern -- on a nineties phenomenon. Roll-on the
afterparty... |
|
| From the eighties, propel
yourself to a mere 5 years ago, emerging from the ashes of grunge/britpop,
the world's looking for something new, dance is going mainstream (at
least in Blighty). Not as trancey as the name suggests, but this
precursor was bang on with its lighters-aloft, quasi-soulful,
soaring, female vocals. Where the track sounds dated in a naff way
is its 2-unlimited style beats, not to mention the comedy foghorns
blaring out through the thunder & rain -- poignant. Not sure why it's been re-released
-- what next, calling Mr Vain? Snap? -- but as history lessons go,
why not start here? |
|
| Bit of a sequence here,
timewise. Like Vaiio's Rapture, a sad
song for rainy club evening. A distance cousin of Whigfield's
Saturday night & that Gypsy Woman track, all strong keyboard
loops, swapping "la-da-di" for "do-do-do", the
beat positively cajoling you into empathy. Suitably depressing &
uplifting for this week. |
|
| Not sure about how
"original" this hyper-energetic take on Chic's Le Freak
is, but it lives up to the (wonderful) image of a thunderpussy.
Enriquez has the charisma to create a 70s-diva vocal to meld with
the double-speed beat & screaming synths. |
|
| Can't decide if Gorillaz are a
one hit (albeit best-single-of-the-year "Clint Eastwood") wonder? This laid-back effort rides the line between being
snoozeworthy & smooth. Luckily the chorus rescues it, with those
Albarn trademark trumpets kicking in (think last track of
Trainspotting). |
|
I've never really been in on
the isn't-kylie-a-goddess kick, but she is still turning out tunes
that seem to outstrip her talent. Perhaps my refusal to allow her
into the diva club stems from seeing her wooden acting on that
Aussie soap, but I just, erm, can't seem to get that idea out of my
head. Cheeky early 80s synth loop -- C64-style -- twinned with
the (unintentionally homo?) erotic groans & a tune that Erasure
would kill for. If this isn't number 1 then I will eat
Schlumberger's losses for this year. |
|
| If you want to get closer to the source, try Starlight. In the wake (& spirit) of fellow
Gallic popmeisters Daft Punk & Air, the Supermen Lovers pull some serious pop punches
with this lyrically inane piece of non-stop soulful dancearama. Sort of an "It's raining
men"/"we're lost in music" for this troubled decade. |
|
| Finally, also-ran this week is former Spicey Victoria Beckham, trying to sound like
Jennifer Lopez, a midtempo sultry affair. Disappointing after that stonking
collaboration with Truesteppers last year |
|
Not sure about the album as a whole but it starts, as did its predecessor, with a
sweeping, orchestra-driven attempt at greatness. And just about succeeds. John Barry must
be turning in his wheelchair as the track evokes Bond floating in an escape pod across
the ocean with a bird in his arms, before Donahue floats down from the clouds to
make a radical tack. Lyrically, they're hitting the same ground as before -- nature drives
through everything -- the stars, snow & moon all appear as saviours, smoke &
crowds are demonised accordingly. A slight update on the in-my-top-twenty track, Holes.
Still, you sort of have to wonder, along with the magnificent-but-straight Strokes/New
Order/Bjork records, what's happening to eclecticism in bands? |
|
| Remember Nellie Furtado and that played-to-death track
about birds? You're not "like" a bird, dear, you are one. Shocking to say, but this is completely different; an
accoustic, Indian vocal-tinged affair -- the sort of thing Madonna tried & failed that ray of light album.
No idea what she's on about, mind. |
|
Still undecided about this effort, clearly aimed at shaking off their indie-boy image
(possibly a consequence of them moving to LA). I think they might have pushed the
funk/repetition angle too far, discarding melody in its wake. Two thirds of the way in
the overplayed keyboards die off and Tim screams "I found you" as the guitars come
to life, accompanied by gospel clapping. All too briefly.
None of the subtelty of "my beautiful friend", nor the earth-shaking, thundering rock of
"one to another", nor the tear-soaked soul of "senses". Move back to
Blighty. |
|
| Nina Persson (sp?), Cardigans chick, smooth version of another Scandinavian indie diva
(yes, yes, oxymorons/geographical correctness be damned) Bjork. Key melancholic vocals,
harmonicas wailing in the style of Dylan and who can resent the sentiment? |
|
| If you want to get closer to the source, try Starlight. In the wake (& spirit) of fellow
Gallic popmeisters Daft Punk & Air, the Supermen Lovers pull some serious pop punches
with this lyrically inane piece of non-stop soulful dancearama. Sort of an "It's raining
men"/"we're lost in music" for this troubled decade. |
|
Is this going to be going the knuckle with Sclub7's "Don't stop moving" in those 2001
hits of the year compilation? A slightly more modern, Daft Punky feel to it (rammed
through a vocoder) but with a rap &, erm, funkier groove underneath -- at the expensive
of melody, of course. Anyone sniff the Avalanche intro?
Enjoy the paradise. |
|
| OK kids, it's almost certainly my age but New Order circa Technique were truly blessed by
the gods. That album was a masterpiece, all blissed-out technical pop made in the
sun-drenched, smiley emerging scene of Ibiza ('89). But, let's be honest, Brutal was just
that -- melody-free, overlong & rather dull. I wish I could say this was a
blistering return to form, seems to be half-baked but at least Hooky is leading on with that
trademark bass. |
|
| Or the 'zombie nation' of 2001 -- if anything more
anthemic. Corker. |
|
