Single Reviews 02/03/09

We’re fully aware it’s been a rather patchy year thus far update-wise, but sadly, after today’s Single Reviews, we’re shutting up shop once again to get us some holiday merriment. Rest assured, we’ll return with tales of newborn pop culture rarities currently gleaming brightly in the exotic mystique of... erm... America. And bear in mind, last time round, we came back singing the praises of FloRida. Yikes.

The Saturdays get us off to a decidedly average start with this year’s Comic Relief offering. While it’s certainly no Who Do You Think You Are or All About You, their update of Just Can’t Get Enough is a faithful enough take on the Depeche Mode standard, albeit laced with enough cheeky winks to simultaneously keep the kids and the dirty mac brigade happy.

Next up, a woman we have little time for even when she’s halfway bearable. However, Kelly Clarkson seems determined to up that to full-on hatred, reintroducing herself as a sell-out identipop fuck-muppet via My Life Would Suck Without You. Apparently this is monstrosity is already scaling the uppermost echelons of the midweeks, but when an artist on her fourth album sounds like a Farmfoods mimic of Miley Cyrus, there has to be something wrong. Take note, record buyers!

And sticking with a theme of bile-drenched negativity, putting herself forward as a genuinely serious nominee for Worst Cover Version EVER is Annie Lennox, whose entirely obsolete butchering of the Ash masterpiece Shining Light is bereft of soul, originality, relevance and any discernible talent. We’d have expected someone of her experience to know not to tamper with such a classic, and yet, it’s on a par with the slurry churned out by Clock in the mid-90s. Truly disgusting stuff, this.

Finally, Chris Cornell takes a well-deserved Single of the Week with the inventive Part of Me, a Timbaland jobby with bleeps and squelches in all the right places, which, somewhat miraculously, blend with a grizzled rock vocal rather nicely. Tim himself jumps on decent backing duties, a thankful progression from his usual Chewbacca noises. Meanwhile, the undiluted vitriol on display in the chorus is refreshingly frank, and also makes us feel as though we’re in good company, given the last two reviews...

Single Reviews 23/02/09

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.

Sloppy Dog Live Blog: The Brit Awards 2009

Right, bear with us in case this all goes horribly wrong - it's our first attempt at liveblogging. Mind you, given the consistently shambolic nature of the Brit Awards, it's safe to say the show itself is even more likely to go tits-up than our coverage will. But hey, welcome all the same! Keep hitting refresh if you're one of the two people joining us this evening.

With the nominations already looking pretty ropey, we're not off to a good start. The Red Carpet show, however, looked slightly more promising - Sara Cox being ace; Katy Perry looking as though she'd fallen into a skip out the back of Claire's Accessories; Kylie Minogue politely pretending to laugh at Mel Blatt's bizarre impression of Katie from the Ting Tings; and fucking Gok Wan essentially threatening to rape Kanye West. Bring on the main event!

20:02 - U2 open the show with a few strains of Rule Britannia. Or was it God Save The Queen? If they were real rock stars, they'd have torn up a picture of The Queen (or alternatively, National Treasure Cheryl Cole™) and launched into a post-hardcore version of Amhrán na bhFiann.
Good God, Bono. Grow old with dignity.

20:08 - After a largely meh opening from Kylie, James Corden and Matthew Horne, it's on with the awards. Best British Female is the first one up - Beth Rowley?! M.I.A!??! Who chooses these things? Where the jiggins is Alesha!?

20:10 - Oh, Duffy's won it. Fair enough. Bless her, she's crying before she's even reached the podium. Possibly because Adele tried to eat her.

20:14 - Ooh, it's International Female.

20:15 - SHUT THE FUCK UP!? Katy Perry??!?

20:19 - Girls Aloud are performing The Promise, heavily influenced by the Spice Girls' updated take on Too Much from the Return of the Spice Girls tour. Namely, a total rip-off. Still, Sarah and Nicola sound pretty good. Can someone turn Nadine's mic down? Her ad-libs are hideous.

20:20 - Fuck off, Fearne Cotton.

20:27 - Mathew Horne is channelling Brian Molko. How does he manage to look considerably worse than his clinically obese pal? Sticking with the theme of skinny people looking bad, it's Alex James to announce Best British Newcomer. And it's another one for Duffy! Clearly, the listeners of Radio 1 aren't that stupid after all. So why do they continue to listen to Chris Moyles?

20:31 - Coldplay have come dressed as The Wiggles. You'd think we'd be bored to tears by Viva La Vida by now, but it still sounds fan-frickin'-tastic. Surely Best British Single is a certainty? Assuming the manic Girls Aloud fans have died from chronic texter's thumb, of course.

20:35 - Fuck off, Fearne Cotton.

20:43 - I'm nostalgic for when Natalie Imbruglia was relevant. The nominees for International Group are predictably pretentious, but let's thank our lucky stars the Pussycat Dolls evaded a nod - between them and Katy Perry, the whole of Earls Court would have had crabs by the end of the night. And Kings of Leon nail the award!

20:46 - Jamies Oliver and Cullum are here to announce Best British Male. We'd have given this to Gavin Rossdale, but his omission is fair enough, given that Wanderlust sold all of four copies. Anyway, as expected, Paul Weller's won. For some reason, his acceptance VT features Adele. Hopefully, that's the last we'll see of her tonight. And as if to prove the point, here's Duffy to perform Warwick Avenue. Christ, she does look remarkably like Daniella Westbrook, doesn't she?

20:50 - Bloody Nora, this is dull. Couldn't she have done Rain On Your Parade instead?

20:51 - Fuck off, Fearne Cotton.

20:59 - A painful skit courtesy of James Corden and Joe Calzaghe precedes International Album, which is identical nominee-wise to International Group, a point proven by the fact Kings of Leon win for the second time. Oo-er, faux pas o'clock - they thank 'England'. Way to get the T In The Park crowds all moist, lads.

21:04 - It's Take That! On a flying saucer! In some sort of Joe 90 get-up! Bored now.

21:07 - WHO did Scouting For Girls have to sleep with to get a nomination for Best Live Act? WHY aren't the Spice Girls nominated? WHAT can we say about Iron Maiden that's remotely interesting? Best acceptance speech of the night, perhaps?

21:10 - Do people not realise there's not enough irony in the world to excuse the presence of The Hoff anymore? He's here to announce the Best British Group, who inexplicably, are Elbow. Coldplay look suitably miffed. Everyone else looks suitably confused. Except Ashley Cole, who looks suitably bored.

21:13 - Seriously, FUCK OFF, Fearne Cotton!

21:17 - Grrr, Caleb Followill. Why couldn't they have done Sex On Fire? Are Number Ones suddenly passé?

21:18 - Ugh, The Hoff is trying to stick it in Fearne Cotton. This is deeply, deeply unpleasant stuff.

21:24 - Kylie's finally back, for what feels like only her second link of the night. Lazy cow. Ooh, Florence & The Machine have (has?) been dipped. Is she making naughty swears? That's not big, or clever. Fucking fuckwit.

21:26 - Why does Gok Wan exist? What is he for? When will it finally be revealed that he's not a real person, but another Sacha Baron Cohen character?

21:28 - Best International Male is Kanye West! Good choice. But sadly, he's not here to collect it in person, possibly as a result of hearing Gok Wan wanted to get on him.

21:32 - It's the perennial Brits collaboration, this year courtesy of Estelle and the Ting Tings, up there with time-honoured team-ups including Dave Stewart & Shola Ama, Daniel & Natasha Bedingfield, the hideous Abba tribute performed by Steps, Billie Piper, B*Witched and Cleopatra, gatecrashed by Tina Cousins. Ooooh, this is a tad hurty on the ears. Poor Estelle.

21:35 - Best British Single is... Girls Aloud! Mind the debris from the exploding Popjustice messageboard. It's a long-deserved triumph, in all fairness, but it's a shame it wasn't for one of their better efforts. Kimberley is sweet, Sarah is hammered, Nadine is incomprehensible, Cheryl has the crowd frothing at the genitals, and Nicola doesn't get to speak. All in all, a perfectly normal day for Girls Aloud, then.

21:39 - So, it's the supposed 'big one'. Surely Coldplay have it in the bag? Oh, apparently not - Duffy makes it three in a row. Does this now mean they're one of those successful, reliable British bands that have passed the plateau of credibility beyond which the Brits do not exist? See also: Keane, Oasis, Stereophonics, Manic Street Preachers.

21:41 - Did you not hear us the first time, Fearne Cotton? And now you're daring to tease us with the threat of Lady GaGa?! Seriously, first person to chuck a bucket of holy water over this execrable creature gets a tenner.

21:49 - SHUT UP, Brandon Flowers. Jesus wept, this man can talk. It feels like yesterday this segment begun. Oh thank fuck, he's reeling it in. The Pet Shop Boys!

21:50 - A shot of Louis Walsh watching the Pet Shop Boys do Suburbia. Is he hoping he'll get a chance afterwards to tell them they're like a young Aretha Franklin, and that all of Newcastle ought to vote for them?

21:53 - And the medley segues into Go West - ironically, given the last comment, it'll never be a patch on the hilarious Rhydian adaptation. Oh sweet Jesus, what has Lady GaGa come as?

21:54 - Oh, is that it from her? Thank heavens for small mercies.

21:56 - And Brandon Flowers is back, thankfully singing this time.

21:58 - We spoke too soon - it's bloody Lady GaGa again. She looks like a willow pattern crockery set. Still, amusing shot of Janet Street Porter soaking in the Pet Shop goodness.

21:59 - And we are done! Didn't that just fly by? Apart from Brandon Flowers' month-long monologue, that is. Overall, this year's event turned out to be a marginally less shite offering than we had been expecting. But then, we've come to expect horrific things from the Brit Awards, so anything less than genocide is a welcome relief. Nighty-night! x

Single Reviews 02/02/09

As is the case with the tiniest hint of extreme conditions in the UK, we’ve decided to hole ourselves up in the Sloppy Dog bunker with a year’s supply of tinned food, more duvets than we know what to do with, and a refusal to set foot outside lest we be gored by a woolly mammoth. So make yourself comfortable – cos you’re probably not going anywhere anytime soon – and enjoy the Single Reviews...

The parade kicks off with Arts & Crafts, another fine effort from Red Light Company, who seem to grab our attention just a little bit more with each release. Grand riffs and robust vocals successfully add to inspired melodies, acting as a further viral advertisement for what promises to be a particularly exciting debut album. Now hurry up and release the sodding thing.

We heart Alesha Dixon round these parts, so it’ll come as little surprise to learn she’s nabbed Single of the Week. It’s a relief to know the novelty hogwash of The Boy Does Nothing was merely a head-turner to announce her arrival – the truly exquisite Breathe Slow is classy, intelligent and fresh, and with any luck, heralds the a long and productive music career from a woman more than capable of exchanging her status as a celebrity for recognition as an artist.

We’re sick to the back teeth of anything Ronson-related, be it Mark’s tiresome twiddlage and endless parps of brass cliché, or his mule-faced sister warranting headlines for precisely nothing. Which doesn’t bode well for Daniel Merriweather and his debut solo single Change, although thankfully his impressive vocals manage to carry a largely bland song.

And finally, the award for most futile sample of the century goes to Kardinal Offishall and Keri Hilson, whose dire Number 1 violently rapes The Tide Is High, although seemingly takes its lead from the Atomic Kitten cover of the Billie Piper cover as opposed to the Blondie masterpiece. Oddly though, it’s the irksome rhymes of Kardinal Offishall and the backing track which sounds like bullfrogs mating on a kettle drum that really grates.

Single Reviews 26/01/09

Yes, yes, we know. Delays, lack of updates, yadda yadda yadda. However, be assured this is all part of the immense preenfest The Sloppy Dog shall be undertaking in the coming months, so shut your whining. Also, while we’re here – fucking Ulrika Jonsson?! Seriously?!? To think there are people still shocked at the thought of a black US president – surely a washed-up tramp-bag winning Celebrity Big Brother is even less fathomable? Rant over. Single Reviews?

Our opening number comes courtesy of Pink, whose primarily-tepid Funhouse has rather proved itself to be a good little grower. While second single release Sober may not be the pick of the crop, it’s a nice reminder of Pink’s abundant dark side, which frankly required a revisit after the playground chant of So What.

Jordin Sparks temporarily suspends her campaign to be a one-woman Atomic Kitten by instead adopting the role of a female Ne*Yo. The bland R&B stammer of One Step at a Time virtually annuls any opinion you might initially form – good or bad – by its sheer nothingness. Ah well, we’re long over her triumph anyway, it’s all about David Cook these days. Or until Adam Lambert or Lenicia Young nail it, at least.

Single of the Week is bestowed upon the perpetually-brilliant Franz Ferdinand, who continue their admirable refusal to rest on their laurels with the filthy funk of Ulysses. Managing an unlikely mash-up of casual and chaotic, the gritty charms set the anticipation for third album Tonight: Franz Ferdinand a couple of notches higher.

Lastly, The Fear marks a comeback and a refreshing change in sound from Lily Allen. The ear for a killer melody is still there, albeit dressed up in a more twiddled milieu. It’s interesting to see that, on the eve of a single release, suddenly the angry blogs, the inter-celebrity skirmish and the paparazzi-courting shots start up again, because on the strength of The Fear, she’s talented enough to succeed without being a tabloid-fellating media scumwhore.

Single Reviews 12/01/09

It’s 2009! Granted, it was 2009 a week ago, but we’ve been enjoying a post-Christmas lull since then. With any luck, we’ll get off our battycreases and do something a tad more interesting with The Sloppy Dog this year, but we’re not going to make it a full-on resolution, as frankly, we don’t want to disappoint. But hey, the Single Reviews we can deliver...

This week’s – and in fact, this year’s – first single to go under the Sloppy Dog microscope is Dancing Choose, a request to don your near-titular proverbial disco footwear from TV On The Radio. A bumble bee trapped in an air conditioner provides the backing for a disciplined rap diatribe, later making way for a heavy dose of hyperactive jazz blastery. In short, we like.

While it seems fruitless to award Single of the Week to a band constantly on the lips of everyone with half an opinion, Girls Aloud more than warrant it with The Loving Kind, one of approximately three songs on Out of Control worth listening to. Particular props must go to the overdue let-up on the Nadine monopoly, as we finally get to hear the other voices – Sarah in particular – shine brightly. No doubt Coyle will be sodding off back to her candle shop with the ’ump as a result.

After the understandable success of Up, it’s unfortunately a return to the pedestrian beigefest of If This Is Love for The Saturdays. The dreary, mid-Atlantic shuffle-along Issues could have been recorded by any shrug-inducer from Fergie to O-Town, suddenly giving the Sugababes a fighting chance out of the girl group doldrums.

And lastly, Razorlight continue to fail in the ignition of any form of interest in their recent material with the limited edition release Hostage Of Love. In fairness, it’s the best thing they’ve unveiled since Somewhere Else, a simple yet effective strum-and-hum combo busting into a semi-acoustic thumper. But with Borrell’s tiresome customs hogging all focus, they’ll need something outstanding to prick up the nation’s ears. This isn’t it.

The Sloppy Dog 2008 Honours List

Finally, we close The Sloppy Dog's End Of Year round-up with our annual honours list, where we celebrate the pop culture heroes of 2008. Truth be told, it’s hard to avoid overlap from previous years’ lists (as a couple of entrants will illustrate), but we haven't had too much overall difficulty finding ten deserving recipients. Ladies and gentlemen, in no particular order, the pwners of 2008...

Chris Lilley
A man whose talents as a comedy actor reach frighteningly realistic proportions; a man whose writing skills are matched only by his microscopically astute observational skills; a man who has made us laugh more than anyone else in 2008. Summer Heights High and We Can Be Heroes are genuine masterpieces – we’ve already got the plastic sheet down for the next project...

Alesha Dixon
Redefining the term ‘underdog’ upon entering Strictly last year, it’s been a pleasure to see Alesha Dixon go from strength to strength since her victory. We’d have never bothered with the show had she not been part of it, which is testament to her hugely lovable nature. Much like Richard Hammond and Will Smith in previous years’ lists, Alesha is, even before you consider any of her other plentiful good points, a jolly nice person.

David Cook
We’ve had the occasional favourite over the many series of American Idol, but never before has such a sizeable talent participated, let alone won. Proving that musicianship, integrity, creativity and personality have a place in the likes of Idol (Leona, take note), David Cook is by far the most deserving and exciting talent show triumph in the history of the genre.

Ben & Jerry
Of course, their presence here owes at least some thanks to the fact Ben Cohen and Jerry Greenfield produce the greatest ice cream on Earth, but the main reason comes as a result of Sundae On The Common, by far the summer’s best festival. Well, one-day jobby as opposed to out-and-out festival, but with Ash, Get Cape Wear Cape Fly, and all the ice cream you can eat, who’s complaining?

Sarah Silverman
Having made this very same list a year ago, Sarah Silverman does the double off the back of her riotously entertaining Hammersmith Apollo show. Although slapdash reviews recounted all manner of boos and heckles WHICH DIDN’T ACTUALLY HAPPEN, Silverman’s delightfully un-PC material and uniquely wry approach cement her as one of America’s greatest comic talents of today.

Russell T. Davies
RTD’s work in bringing Doctor Who back to our screens is impressive enough, and that’s even before you take into account the untouchable level of quality applied to it. This year’s outstanding series paid testament to his near-paranormal writing flair - as did both Torchwood and The Sarah Jane Adventures - while his book The Writer’s Tale provided a rare and exceptional window into what’s evidently a spectacular mind.

Danny Wallace
Anyone who can think of a concept as simultaneously simple and bizarre as Yes Man is clearly unique. But to make it work to the extent that it gets its own silver screen interpretation must be the mark of a genius. Meanwhile, back in Blighty, by far and away the highlight of the hugely-impressive Shortlist remains Danny’s regular column, further underlining his inimitable wit and proving that he’s still one of us.

Ruth Lorenzo
It’ll come as no surprise to see the breathtakingly fantastic Ruth Lorenzo in our list. Although Alexandra was a more than worthy winner, we maintain Ruth is the greatest contestant in talent show history – a sort of female David Cook, if you will. Boasting originality, vision, warmth, and a killer voice, plus incredibly gracious in her unjust elimination unlike many of her X Factor contemporaries, if Ruth isn’t signed in the next few months we may have to cut a bitch.

Ash
Sure, things have been somewhat hushed on the Ash front over the past 12 months. Ok, so things have been practically mute. But our lone experience of one of our favourite bands throughout 2008 was certainly an impressive one, providing us with the live performance of the year at the aforementioned Sundae On The Common. Now let’s get thee to a studio and get some new material a-cooking...

Charlie Brooker
And finally, another entrant in our list for the second year running. While King Charlie’s hysterical rants about the state of telly remain (a) something we aspire to pull off with such articulacy, and (b) something that has us in regular fits, his work on the truly remarkable Dead Set further validates his placing – such an uncanny juxtaposition of macabre and hilarious could only ever come from one man.

The Sloppy Dog's Worst of 2008: Singles

We thought we had a hard time narrowing down the year’s greatest singles to just ten selections, but trying to whittle down the gargantuan quantities of shit music for our Worst Singles list was even more difficult.
That means a reprieve for The Verve and Sugababes, both of whom should be utterly ashamed of themselves for their respective Pingu and Boots cackfests. It also means a lucky escape for Nickelback, H Two O, Leon Jackson and multiple entries from Alphabeat, plus Christina Aguilera who narrowly avoids making the list three times in a row. But for now, let’s don our gas masks and root through the sewage bad enough to warrant a festive dose of The Slaegin™...

10. Basshunter - Now You're Gone
We left the country for a brief holiday back in January, and returned to find this abomination sat smugly at Number One. Seriously, can we not turn our backs for five minutes without the music scene going into Euro-manure meltdown? Is there no chance that the soundtrack to a million regurgitated Reefs on the pavements outside a contemptible out-of-town nightclub could actually stay there?

9. Pussycat Dolls - When I Grow Up
We’ve always held a substantial amount of contempt for the dancing courtesan collective, but never before has one of their songs been so completely vexing. Ham-fisted, tacky, self-indulgent lyrics which denote precisely nothing – so, you ladies wanna have cars, groupies and/or boobies? Well, we want you to have low sales, typhoid and/or multiple accidents. Starting with Nicole.

8. Dizzee Rascal & Calvin Harris - Dance Wiv Me
It was a shame to see the gifted, inventive Dizzee Rascal hooking up with bandwagon-on-legs Calvin Harris, but an even bigger shame to hear the extent to which Harris decimated the track. It’s not just his hackneyed beats that make Dance Wiv Me so unbearable, it’s the pitiful attempts at singing, sounding more like Father Paul Stone reading out the Johnstone’s Paint Trophy league scores.

7. Kylie Minogue – Wow
Dear ol’ Kyles has peddled some shit throughout her career, but nothing comes close to the lifeless, uninspired waste of oxygen that is Wow. Seriously, not even Chocolate or that one with that Keith bloke come close to the musical dishonour on display here. Kylie, love, when Dannii is effortlessly outshining you without even realising a single thing, you know the drawing board’s a-calling.

6. David Jordan - Sun Goes Down
Looking back on 2008, we breathe a dramatic sigh of relief that this jumped-up Mini-Mika never lived up to the hype this shoddy mess of a single insinuated. Camp to the point it was actually strangely eerie, it was hard not to watch David Jordan perform this monstrosity without wanting to shower vigorously afterwards. Ah well – you rip off the almighty Wizbit, you end up a one-hit wonder. Now that’s magic.

5. Mika – Lollipop
Oh, and look! Here’s the man herself! Pay attention David Jordan, this is how you pass high-pitched effeminate baloney off as a singing career. Lollipop actually failed to make the Top 40 as a stand-alone single, but its mere existence alone was enough to instil terror in anyone with taste. Mercifully, 2008 was otherwise quiet on the Mika front – is it too much to hope he and David Jordan killed one another in a particularly gory hair-pulling bitchfight?

4. Scouting For Girls - I Wish I Was James Bond
In fairness, we’ve probably liked a Scouting For Girls song. However, that was prior to them re-recording said song under eleven different titles and carpet-bombing the nation with them. By far the worst offender was this, a shameless cash-in on the James Bond mediafest, and although it didn’t perform particularly well, its eye-gougingly awful tune and wholly embarrassing lyrical run-through of past Bond actors would induce a big enough cringe to turn you inside out. Someone give these morons the Sing-a-long-a-Scouting-For-Girls series on Nick Jr they deserve, and leave the rest of us well alone.

3. Boyzone - Love You Anyway
The most irksome, exasperating, lodged-inside-your-brain-until-death-presents-itself-as-the-only-viable-option shitcunt of a tune this year came courtesy of Boyzone, who evidently invoked some majorly dark magicks to create a song this vulgarly infectious. The persecution of the ears that comes with the sound of Ronan Keating’s voice only played the tiniest part in what made Love You Anyway so unbearable – yes, it really was that bad of a song.

2. Adele - Chasing Pavements
Now, much has been made on these hallowed pages about the visual side of Adele, but we have to clarify, her weight is by no means the issue – moreover, it’s her sullen, slappable face and permanently-downturned codmouth. She’s like a walking bad mood in a shapeless black smock. And as if to provide the perfect aural accompaniment for such a sorry sight, along comes the morbidly depressing fuckwittery of Chasing Pavements, commandeering the airwaves and throwing the nation into inconsolable despair. In fact, we’d bet this pus-filled hag and her ballad of bollocks are indirectly responsible for the economic crisis...

1. Katy Perry - I Kissed A Girl
And just – and that’s literally only just – beating Adele’s vile anthem of funereal flab to the top spot is the vacuous, white-trash slurry-party known as Katy Perry. Aside from the cheap, mock-coquettish, home-made moneyshot of a song, Perry’s sluttish desperation to look titillating in every single item of visual media fails on all counts, and only serves to make her look almost as big a dead-eyed cocksucker as the Pussycat Trolls themselves. Tell you what, love, if you’re that keen on some girl-on-girl action to grab another headline or shift another few units, why not check yourself into HMP Holloway...?

The Sloppy Dog's Best of 2008: Singles

Our countdown continues with the ten best singles of 2008, of which there’s a few surprise entries from bands we’ve been less than complimentary about in the past. But hey, a time for forgiveness and all that.

Just missing the cut are gems from Stereophonics, Duffy, Sia, Solange and We Are Scientists, as are guilty pleasures from Flo Rida, Miley Cyrus and Will.I.Am featuring HRH Queen Cheryl of Hearts. But we begin at Number Ten...

10. Kings of Leon – Sex on Fire
Deservedly claiming their first chart-topper with the greatest single of their career, it’s refreshing to see a chart position correlating with how good a song is (one would generally think a #1 is possible with any old shit sneezed out *cough*Rihanna*cough*). Sex on Fire was a potent, dynamic, thunderous rock anthem, fully equipped with violently fantastic melodies, and finally justified the mammoth Kings of Leon hypefest.

9. Estelle & Kanye West – American Boy
It was a blessed relief to see the comeback of Estelle, given her sorely underwhelming debut The 18th Day, but we’d have never expected she’d make quite the impact she did on her return. Teaming up with Kanye West at his finest, American Boy proved to be an immediate, exuberant and inventive airwave-hogger of a song.

8. Red Light Company – Meccano
A big, shouty treat that blessed our ears (but sadly, not the charts) back in August, Red Light Company couldn’t have introduced themselves to the world any better. Melding hard Britpop riffage with rounded terrace hollers, all peppered with the occasional sprinkle of twinkle, Meccano proved to be the calling card for a band worth getting very, very excited about.

7. Coldplay – Viva La Vida
Another shock entry, given (a) our general feelings towards Coldplay, and (b) the overkill this song suffered at the hands of Apple ads and patriotic Olympic montages. However, once lured by the direct hook, the lush string arrangements acted as an instantaneous spine-tingler, while the anthemic chants only added to the overall magnificence.

6. The Killers – Human
After a shockingly shit album in the form of the laughable Sam’s Town, it looked unlikely that the Killers would ever match the glory of Hot Fuss again. Then along comes Human, a rapturous amalgam of dancefloor and mosh pit that put them firmly back into our good books. Ironically, it went down like a lead balloon with pretty much everyone else...

5. VV Brown – Crying Blood
Yes, it was daft. Yes, it was throwaway. Yes, it sounded worryingly like the Monster Mash. Yes, only 0.00002% of music buyers even heard it. But the ridiculously superb Crying Blood was a refreshing, no-holds-barred, joyful slap in the chops from an artist who carries absolute masses of potential for 2009. We await the album with the itchiest of anticipation.

4. The Maccabees – Toothpaste Kisses
Only just making it into our list, having charted way back on January 7th (albeit at No. 70...), the Maccabees followed up the regimental indie charm of Precious Time with something entirely different in the shape of Toothpaste Kisses. The gentle strums and soothing vocals made for an understated lullaby, further highlighting the versatility and the greatness of the Maccabees.

3. One Night Only – Just For Tonight
Note to anyone planning to launch a music career in 2009 – this is the way to do a debut single (granted, the initial release of You & Me came out beforehand, but it bombed like a mofo, so we’ll graciously discount that). Big, soaring hooks atop a thumping beat made Just For Tonight an immediate, effortless classic. And although it was a shame that the album failed to match the splendour of the single, Just For Tonight was, on all levels, nothing less than flawless.

2. Little Jackie – The World Should Revolve Around Me
Having already been appointed the best album of the year, now claiming an additional silver medal with the second greatest track of 2008 are Little Jackie. Their quirky, breezy masterpiece The World Should Revolve Around Me was equal parts brazen and charming, infectious beyond words, and managed to combine elements of comedy with unrivalled musicianship. How this didn’t become the biggest-selling song of the year is anyone’s guess (oh, that’s right – we live in a country where people don’t ‘get’ anything that’s not Leona cunting Lewis).

1. Weezer – Pork & Beans
And finally, we reach our favourite single of the past 12 months. While most people will only be aware of the accompanying video showcasing the greatest hits of YouTube, there’s a great deal to be said for Pork & Beans as a song. The genius mind of Rivers Cuomo hoists a polite middle-finger as he cements his defiance to conform to an idea of visual perfection – a sort of alt-rock take on Slaguilera’s Beautiful, perhaps? Bursting with a blend of wit, magic, energy and melody that only Weezer could formulate, it’s yet another example of a band who physically cannot produce a bad song.