Single Reviews 01/05/06

No, ladies and gents, it’s not some form of hocus-pocus web trickery – it really is the almighty Single Reviews you see before you...

If dance music really is dead, then Beatfreekz are the hyenas yamming down the rotting carcass. Somebody’s Watching Me is a humdrum Euromess built around a drained Michael Jackson sample. Although, it’s nice to know a few quid is going MJ’s way – if there’s any accuracy in rumours of a Westlife duet, he truly must be poverty-stricken.


Up next, Sloppy Dog favourites – nay, legends – Feeder present their Singles album with Lost & Found, a pleasingly riotous excursion to earlier splendour. Predictably, it’s our Single Of The Week.

Goldfrapp continue to piss us off with their dripping-consistency album Supernature, and its fourth single Fly Me Away. We’ve had quite enough of Grandma Saddlebags and her ninth-hand Wurlitzer. Get lost, get a tan, get some new ideas, and maybe get laid – we’ve never seen a miserable fizzgog so in need of a smile.

And bringing up the rear somewhat disappointingly are the Red Hot Chili Peppers with Dani California. While we’re waiting to hear the gargantuan double-album Stadium Arcadium before making any real judgement, the commonplace shruggage of this single suggests their best work ain’t on it. The Sloppy Dog hearts the Chili Peppers, and are therefore most saddened. Hey, why not send us chocolate to cheer us up?

This week's Celebrity News by multi-platinum X-Factor winners Addictiv Ladies

Bringin’ you the, bringin’ you the
Bringin’ you the, bringin’ you the
C-E-L-E-B-R-I-T
Y? Cos we need bear money
We’s on social security
Can’t afford no Dark and Lovely

Lack of lyrics you’ll have to excuse
We still got the X-Factor blues
So sit back, bwoys, as you peruse
Addictiv Ladies’ Celebrity News
Bo!

We was like “oh my God, shut up!” when we was told that David Hasselhoff is gonna be doing panto in Wimbledon this year. He used to be Pamela Anderson’s boss, and now he’s all “HE’S BEHIND YOU!!” and ting. It ain’t all bad though – there’s a Nando’s right opposite Wimbledon Theatre.

Bear trouble for Snoop Dogg who got nabbed by da filth this week when he try come feisty with airport people. That exact same thing happened to us lot, except it was in double history instead of Heathrow. And lunchtime detention instead of being arrested. Anyways, da police turfed him out on his battycrease and he was all “foshizzle nizzle polizzle” and ting.

Last up, shame to Jade Goody who bruck up her insides during the Marathon last week. She was yammin’ bear fried chicken right up to the starting line, and her body was all “nah man” and it switched on her and she was mash up. Shabby, innit?

Anyways, safe, yeah? Trust. Laterz!

P.S. We hate Louis Walsh.

P.P.S. Louis Walsh is a battychief.

Single Reviews 24/04/06

Well looky here! It’s only the brand new Single Reviews...

First up, we’re relieved to say we’ve shaken off whichever curse prompted us to select a singing school chaplain backed by the geography department and an F-list Beyoncé as our last two Single of the Week choices. Raising the bar for music in 2006, and helping us return to our senses is Be Gentle With Me by The Boy Least Likely To – an upbeat, jangly hoedown that’s all beaming smiles and breezy melodies.

We’re also rather chuffed this week at the return of Snow Patrol. While we’d be a lot happier if Gary did something with his terrible barnet, the music speaks for itself. You’re All I Have is more Chocolate than Run, though anything resembling either would be gladly received. Woo, and indeed, hoo.

A slightly less welcome return comes in the shape of Big Brovaz, now significantly slimmed down member-wise, and almost totally devoid of the kooky magic they once boasted. Hangin’ Around is a limp, beige, vegetative serving of personality-free Brit-hop, sadly a million miles from Nu Flow. Continuing the theme of monotonous urban hogwash is Chris Brown. Aside from having the least glamorous name in the music industry, Yo (Excuse Me Miss) is tepid, unoriginal, forgettable, and all in all, about as interesting as his moniker.

Finally, in-bred, limp-wristed, chin-centric uber-nobber Will Young releases another stab at blue-eyed soul with Who Am I. This man’s voice is like an aural gas chamber. When will he be stopped?! WHEN?!?

This week's Celebrity News by Jamie Oliver

It’th a thruggle to balanth being a top-clath chef, a family man, and the self-appointed moral guardian of the entire planet. But I feel it’th important to give thomething to the little people, tho here I am bringing you thith week’th Thelebrity Newth. You’ll have to pardon me if I thpit on you while I thpeak – it’th a curth having a tongue like a whole joint of gammon.

Congratulationth to Tom Cruithe and his doe-eyed puppet of a beard, Katie Holmth, on the birth of their firtht child, Thuri. Thankth to Thientology, poor ol’ Katie apparently wathn’t allowed to thcream during the birth, and Tom hath declared that he’ll be tucking into the plathenta – that’d be pukka with maple thyrup and my buffalo mozzarella.

Thpeaking of famouth bloketh called Tom, Tom Hankth has revealed planth to do a thcreen adaptathion of the Abba muthical Mamma Mia. My mithuth Julth lovth a bit of Abba, she doeth. I’ll bet Tom Cruithe lovth Abba an’ all.

And thpeaking of queenth, a lovely ‘appy birfday to me ol’ china The Queen, who turned 80 thith week. Bleth her jewel-encruthted cottonth, but the ol’ dear ain’t a patch on me nan (you remember ‘er, from me adverth on the telly – available for club appearantheth, photo thigningth and thupermarket openingth).

Single Reviews 17/04/06

Ladies and gents, given that it’s Easter, we felt perhaps this would be a good opportunity to undertake some intelligent debate, and consider the vehemently profitable chocolate-and-bunnies mentality of the holiday, versus the significance of Easter as the most eminent celebration in the Christian calendar. Then we thought, “nah, let’s slag off some popstars instead”.

Sick to the back teeth of Bad Day? No? Then tidy up the track names in your playlist, you’re clearly listening to another song. Daniel Powter returns with Lie To Me, a wee measure of merriment played out in an aching succession of high notes. Far from noteworthy, but all in all highlighting that he shits all over James Blunt from a great height. Not a huge feat, mind you.

Next up, The Sloppy Dog takes a trip to Colombia, a place we’re already sceptical about thanks to barmy shitweasel Shakira. Their next musical export comes in the form of Juanes, with the cyclical ohrwurm La Camisra Negra – essentially a one-man Ketchup Song.

Fall Out Boy’s unoriginal brand of adolescent wank-rock is put on parade in the oafish Dance Dance, a track which further proves they’re little more than a North American counterpart to Son of Dork.

Finally, behold the most begrudgingly-awarded Single of the Week since the dawn of time. Quite who gave 10-year-old pygmy pole-dancer Rihanna permission to record a good song is beyond us, but SOS ditches her banal dancehall-in-a-carton in favour of kitsch electro-pop brilliance with a highly original Tainted Love sample. Next time, love, tell us when you’re going to stop being shit – we need at least two months’ notice to work up the resistance to hate you for the abysmal Pon De Replay.

This week's Celebrity News by Desperate Housewives' Mary-Alice

Death. It’s a funny old thing. Mourning, flowers, embalming fluid. But it has its upside – voiceover work. Yes... had I not died, I would never have been able to claim the title of World’s Most Condescending Ghost.

Yes... The Sloppy Dog is quite the popular read over in the netherworld. So I’m taking a break from my running commentary on Wisteria Lane’s shenanigans (which in fairness, have gone downhill lately) to provide you lucky mortals with this week’s Celebrity News.

Marriage. Sometimes we all need that one person who knows us inside and out [cue montage of embracing characters]. But sadly not Eminem, who has divorced his Hooters-class wifebag for a second time. Yes... sometimes we all need that one parasite to get the hell out of the trailer.

Lynette Scavo got more than she bargained for when she returned to work. Perhaps she could give some advice to Take That, who have apparently signed a brand new record deal this week. Take That had a song called I Found Heaven – I found it too, and not just in a metaphor. It’s somewhat overrated, to be honest. Yes... even Heaven would be improved by a Krispy Kreme Factory Shop.

And finally, Mariah Carey is said to be launching a fragrance. Were I the type of person to stab another woman, chop her into pieces, stuff her in a toy chest and dump it in a lake, she'd be top of my list. Yes... sometimes we all need to plunge a knife into the empty black heart of a caterwauling banshee.

Now if you'll excuse me, I have to provide a judgemental synopsis of next week's show. A tenner says it's Susan falling over and Bree sporting an expression of disapproval.

The 'Ump: Alex James

You’d be right in thinking that the world of football is a relatively confrontational place. Aside from the sponsorship, it’s all bitter rivalry, jibes and machismo. Oh, and a bit of sport. But it’s all, understandably, rather blokey.
So imagine our shock when we heard Alex James challenge Embrace’s selection for recording the England World Cup anthem – with pathetic limp-wristed handbag bitchery.

Gangling, vacant, conceited talent-vortex James, 46, invited Embrace to “fucking suck his cock” while hinting that he’d be reteaming with novelty band Fat Les to record a rival anthem.

While Alex James can’t help his affliction of twattery (spending that much time with supreme bastion of utter cuntdom Damon Albarn must surely rub off), Embrace really shouldn’t worry too much. His current project Wigwam, where he’s dug up Betty Boo to meow over beats seemingly produced by the pensioner that bangs a saucepan outside Wimbledon Station, is presently heading for the dizzy heights of the Top 70.

We laugh in your pompous face, Alex James.

Single Reviews 10/04/06

Given that the best part of last week has been spent hunting high and low for the fabled Cadbury’s Crème Egg Bar, we hadn’t really given a whole lot of thought to the Singles Reviews. Luckily, there’s not a whole lot to report on the new releases front this week...

Milking their irksome album of its 77th single this week are Hard-Fi, with Better Do Better. Predictably, it’s Hard-Fi by numbers – a bellowed, awkwardly literal ode to a ho, desperately crying out for a fresh idea.

Next up is Danish newcomer Natasha Thomas, whose inane Avril-Ashlee-Hilary nothingness Skin Deep will have already bothered your lugs thanks to its appearance on a Lacoste ad. Prior to doing our research, we actually thought it was a spot cream ad, which sort of made more sense. Oh well.

In-bred, piketastic, Crimewatch-fodder, Lord Of All Chavs Shayne Ward has taken time out from visiting his ginormous gypsy family in prison to follow up the dreadful That’s My Goal with No Promises – still an insipid ballad with a distinct lack of balls, but a definite improvement. A far more contemporary track with a faint sniff of personality, it’s a step in the right direction. But a step off a balcony would be far more satisfactory.

Finally, Coldplay release the download-only The Hardest Part from their under-received, struggling LP X & Y. As with Hard-Fi’s effort (or lack of), it’s a conventional signature band tune, but pleasant enough if aided heavily by the barking video. As a result, it’s our Single of the Week by default – oh the shame of it.

Ancient Interviews Added...

Check out the Interviews link on the right to read some of the earliest incarnations of The Sloppy Dog (namely, we've blown the cobwebs off some articles from student press work).

While they're not quite hieroglyphics, bear in mind that it's an archive and therefore in no way current. Anyone barking about incorrect release dates, inexperienced writing style, spelling/grammatical errors, or Mutya not being a Sugababe anymore will be promptly knocked unconscious and fed to the Scientologists. And they won't tolerate your screams.

Single Reviews 03/04/06

Fed up of free choice? Hate having the liberty to make your own decisions? Then read this! We’ll tell you what to buy...

Spare a thought for Nizlopi this week. Despite Girls being an affable sway of refreshingly earnest romance, their record company are doing fuck-all to push it, forever securing their future in the shadow of JCB (which, sadly, no amount of love from us could ever prevent being seen by Joe Public as a novelty record).

Faceless Eurodance or a poor man’s Scissor Sisters? Six of one, really – either way, Speechless by Mish Mash is a weak, unmemorable, personality-lite McDisco disarray of gay noise. Even more repulsive is the truly unpleasant Laffy Taffy by D4L, seemingly crafted from leftover ringtones, like some sort of Frankenstein’s Crazy Frog.

Having replaced Abi’s sax with her very own spotlight, The Zutons have achieved an ocular-responsive, catchy stomp of a ditty in Why Won’t You Give Me Your Love, which also wears our most elegant Single of the Week sash across its chest. And even our burning hatred for West Side Story can’t keep us from loving the video.

Snapping at the Zutons’ heels for this week’s bestest single are Franz Ferdinand with The Fallen, another mighty triumph of a track from one of last year’s greatest albums. And closing the singles this week is One by Mary J Blige and U2. Together, not only are Bono and Bilge responsible for 75% of the world’s weave industry, but they make some horrendously dull music. Run away, children, before the coma-people get you.

The 'Ump: Ryan from The Cribs

When you're in the public eye, it's believed to be somewhat important to care about your appearance. Hell, we've witnessed the one-man Gareth Gates accompanied by a four-man "style squad".

So when a pop star chooses to shun such vanity, we generally applaud them. Whether they're fed up of being faffed over by a team of overenthusiastic jobsworths with make-up brushes, or it's an "all about the music, y'all" bid to be taken more seriously as artists, it's a noble stand against an unhealthy view of beauty.

But some bands take it too far. Memo to The Cribs:


FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, WASH!!!!!!