Friday, October 22, 2010

Single Reviews 25/10/10

Hello! Now, for those of you who’ve been clucking for another X Factor liveblog, we’re afraid it won’t be happening anytime soon. Much as we’d like to blame the Cunting Coalition and their slash-happy cuts, it’s more to do with the fact liveblogging a show that long and that crazy feels like running the London Marathon in a full suit of armour, so for now, you’ll have to make do with the Single Reviews...

We love championing an underdog round these parts, so we begin with some unknown random named Cheryl Cole. Will she ever get any media attention? Sarcasm aside (albeit briefly), Promise This sees her ditch the first-album slink in favour of a more frenetic sound, even if the overall result is largely average. A scrawny, undefined chorus is compensated by the cyclical alouette chant, although that’s as infuriatingly bothersome as it is memorable. Either way, it shits all over that Nadine Coyle monstrosity of a single.

30 Seconds To Mars return to their patented brand of big, theatrical circus-metal following the comparably more approachable Closer to the Edge. There’s nothing wrong with the vivid, reticent intensity of Search & Destroy per se, but, as with much of their catalogue, it all takes itself a tad too seriously. But hey, that’s what gives ‘em their emo mojo. Not everything can be produced by Pete Waterman. (Thank fuck.)

Single of the Week goes to Morcheeba, whose lilting, soothing tones are utilised to great effect on the title track from their seventh album, the superb Blood Like Lemonade. Somewhat peculiarly, it lyrically recounts the tale of a vampire bounty hunter – perhaps not the narrative you’d attach to such a chilled, sun-kissed mantra, but such unpredictability only adds to its beauty.

And last up, a performer – that’s a performer, and most definitely not an artist – who’s only ever as good as her last single. Which is bad news for Rihanna, given that there’s little to get excited about in Only Girl (In The World), a bland Eurodance stomper which would remain entirely faceless were it not attached to this horribly ubiquitous face. Will there ever come a point where the music industry tires of the same braindead, rent-a-voice go-to girl?

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