Shirley Clamp РSjälvklart

“There’s not a lot to say about it, beyond: it’s lovely.”

Tom: BORED, Tim. I’ve been BORED of pop music lately. It’s all the same. And I realise this seems a bit like the start of Flash Gordon, but: what’ve got you for me this time?

Tim: Hmm, a fair amount of pressure you’ve laid on me there, but I’ve got this, from the queen of Christmas herself. A nice jolly track; song title translates as Obvious, and I’ve no idea about the rest of the words.

Tom: If there was a button marked HOT HAIL in front of me, I’d be pushing it. (That is not a compliment.) Most of the lines in the verse are just going between the same two notes, up and down. The chorus just seems to plod along. And for a singer with, as I recall, a pretty damn good voice, there’s really not much here that couldn’t be done by any session singer.

Tim: Off, blimey, that’s harsh. So harsh. I’ve been sitting here for quite some time now trying to think what to write about it, and now I’m not really sure what to write. If, indeed, to write anything. Because there’s not a lot to say about it, beyond: it’s lovely. Moves quickly, lightly, almost deftly if a song can be described like that, and sounds happy, playful and somewhat joyous.

Tom: BORED.

Tim: Mate, you’re not in a great place right now, are you?