We’re back! And Christ on a bike, have we developed a hatred for technology. And fucking PC World. We’d apologise for the stoppage, but frankly, we feel more deserving of an apology ourselves. So, if any of you happen to work for the unqualified scumfest that is PC World, please feel free to get in touch with some resolute grovelling. The rest of you can read the Single Reviews…
We kick off on a positive note with our
Single of the Week, which comes courtesy of
N*E*R*D. The pleasantly bizarre
Everybody Nose does give away the farm somewhat, and once again raises questions as to how they can create such masterpieces for other artists but not for themselves. Yet it’s hard not to find something likeable in it, whether the call-to-arms-by-the-tampon-machine chant, the cymbal-tickling beat, or the vigorous swing quality. And much like their greatest productions, it’s a full-on Marmite job.
Next up, two junior constituents of All-American R&B royalty converge for a potentially monster alliance. Specifically,
Jordin Sparks and Chris Brown, who unite for the mid-tempo demi-ballad
No Air. While it remains a mystery that the seemingly made-for-radio
Tattoo never warranted a release,
No Air carries a similarly surefire manner about it, if perhaps a tad safe for it.
Another pairing - albeit far less successful - comes via the unlikely coupling of
Dizzee Rascal and Calvin Harris. Squidgy, bland tinned disco elbows any iota of quirky grime firmly out of the way, making
Dance Wiv Me a black mark on the careers of both parties, with the fungal, atonal, tiresome mutterings of Calvin Harris functioning only to make Dizzee’s barely-bogstandard contribution appear less dire.
Finally, and only marginally less shit than the stodgy stools wrenched out in the previous review,
The Kooks undrape yet another folky fuckfest with languid attempts at sunbeams ’n’ smiles. Quite how they think they can pull off a happy tune with such a offhand, aloof manner is lunacy, yet
Shine On is the squillionth example of such futility in their short career, and proves they’re as boring as they are undernourished.
We’re back! And Christ on a bike, have we developed a hatred for technology. And fucking PC World. We’d apologise for the stoppage, but frankly, we feel more deserving of an apology ourselves. So, if any of you happen to work for the unqualified scumfest that is PC World, please feel free to get in touch with some resolute grovelling. The rest of you can read the Single Reviews…
We kick off on a positive note with our Single of the Week, which comes courtesy of N*E*R*D. The pleasantly bizarre Everybody Nose does give away the farm somewhat, and once again raises questions as to how they can create such masterpieces for other artists but not for themselves. Yet it’s hard not to find something likeable in it, whether the call-to-arms-by-the-tampon-machine chant, the cymbal-tickling beat, or the vigorous swing quality. And much like their greatest productions, it’s a full-on Marmite job.
Next up, two junior constituents of All-American R&B royalty converge for a potentially monster alliance. Specifically, Jordin Sparks and Chris Brown, who unite for the mid-tempo demi-ballad No Air. While it remains a mystery that the seemingly made-for-radio Tattoo never warranted a release, No Air carries a similarly surefire manner about it, if perhaps a tad safe for it.
Another pairing - albeit far less successful - comes via the unlikely coupling of Dizzee Rascal and Calvin Harris. Squidgy, bland tinned disco elbows any iota of quirky grime firmly out of the way, making Dance Wiv Me a black mark on the careers of both parties, with the fungal, atonal, tiresome mutterings of Calvin Harris functioning only to make Dizzee’s barely-bogstandard contribution appear less dire.
Finally, and only marginally less shit than the stodgy stools wrenched out in the previous review, The Kooks undrape yet another folky fuckfest with languid attempts at sunbeams ’n’ smiles. Quite how they think they can pull off a happy tune with such a offhand, aloof manner is lunacy, yet Shine On is the squillionth example of such futility in their short career, and proves they’re as boring as they are undernourished.
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