Finally, we’ve gotten around to writing something. Not only do you lucky buggers get our Brits blog, but we’ve actually managed to do some Single Reviews this week. Don’t get too excited though - it’s holiday time in a couple of weeks so there’ll be another big ol’ block of time without one measly update. Until then, enjoy...
Perhaps the most unlikely comeback this week – nay, this decade – arrives in the form of
Amy Studt, last seen spectacularly failing when her label decided to mould her into a UK Avril Lavigne at the last minute. And even though five years have passed,
Nice Boys isn’t too far removed from her first-stab material, all iffy Kate Bush leanings and playground chants. And yet, it’s hard not to feel she’s capable of so much better. Despite the fact we’ve never seen evidence of this.
A band who inexplicably fell short of Travis/Coldplay-level commercial crossover magnitude,
Starsailor have instead become a solid, endowed, consistent band more than capable of peddling a killer tune or three.
Tell Me It’s Not Over is no different, boasting up-tempo splendour and confident riffs. Sadly though, it’s not the big push they deserve, so they’ll have to suffice with being our
Single of the Week.
The wealth of talent in last year’s
American Idol means we’ll likely be seeing plenty of releases from the finalists. No, it’s not Carly, or Brooke, or Syesha, or Michael, or him with the dreads. It’s
David Archuleta. Sorry. In fairness,
Crush is a far more impressive offering than Cowell’s attempts to shape him into a one-man
High School Musical would’ve suggested, a melody-heavy airwave-hogger that actually suits him rather well. But above anything else, it underlines that David Cook was, by far, the deserving winner.
And bringing this week’s reviews to a close are
Plain White Ts. Initial exposure might imply that
Natural Disaster is actually something resembling acceptable, carrying a heavier, energetic sound. However, the cliché soon shines through, with the clumsy lyrics following shortly behind, cementing it as forgettable middle-school non-rock. The best thing we can say about it? It’s not
Hey There Delilah.
Finally, we’ve gotten around to writing something. Not only do you lucky buggers get our Brits blog, but we’ve actually managed to do some Single Reviews this week. Don’t get too excited though - it’s holiday time in a couple of weeks so there’ll be another big ol’ block of time without one measly update. Until then, enjoy...
Perhaps the most unlikely comeback this week – nay, this decade – arrives in the form of Amy Studt, last seen spectacularly failing when her label decided to mould her into a UK Avril Lavigne at the last minute. And even though five years have passed, Nice Boys isn’t too far removed from her first-stab material, all iffy Kate Bush leanings and playground chants. And yet, it’s hard not to feel she’s capable of so much better. Despite the fact we’ve never seen evidence of this.
A band who inexplicably fell short of Travis/Coldplay-level commercial crossover magnitude, Starsailor have instead become a solid, endowed, consistent band more than capable of peddling a killer tune or three. Tell Me It’s Not Over is no different, boasting up-tempo splendour and confident riffs. Sadly though, it’s not the big push they deserve, so they’ll have to suffice with being our Single of the Week.
The wealth of talent in last year’s American Idol means we’ll likely be seeing plenty of releases from the finalists. No, it’s not Carly, or Brooke, or Syesha, or Michael, or him with the dreads. It’s David Archuleta. Sorry. In fairness, Crush is a far more impressive offering than Cowell’s attempts to shape him into a one-man High School Musical would’ve suggested, a melody-heavy airwave-hogger that actually suits him rather well. But above anything else, it underlines that David Cook was, by far, the deserving winner.
And bringing this week’s reviews to a close are Plain White Ts. Initial exposure might imply that Natural Disaster is actually something resembling acceptable, carrying a heavier, energetic sound. However, the cliché soon shines through, with the clumsy lyrics following shortly behind, cementing it as forgettable middle-school non-rock. The best thing we can say about it? It’s not Hey There Delilah.
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