PULS – Lad Det Slå

I liked it from the start.

Tim: This one took me a while, so give it a couple of listens before you dismiss it.

Related pointless thought in the meantime, though: people say ‘it grows on you’ as though that’s good, but another way of saying that is surely just ‘it’ll wear you down eventually’.

Tom: Actually, if I remember right that’s pretty much what happens. The more you listen to a genre of music or an individual track, the more your brain recognises the patterns and gets used to it. But for me, that didn’t happen here: I liked it from the start.

Tim: Good. Stylistically, it goes pretty much all over the place. Google wants me to think the title translates to ‘Let it Beat’, so I’m guessing it’s basically about how dance music is amazing.

Tom: Wrong. I translated the lyrics, and they’re talking about a heartbeat – it’s pretty much your standard dance-track love song.

Tim: Fair enough. It’s the Danish duo’s second single after the similarly messy Superstar a year ago, and I have decided that I think I like it.

Tom: The trouble is, I can’t tell whether I like the track because of the music or because of the video with the woman dancing in front of fire.

Tim: There are also three separate songs this slightly reminds me of, none of which I can think of, irritatingly – the first half-second, the tinkly piano bit, and the high electro bit that first appears about twenty seconds in.

Tom: Also, that “ding ding ding” sound a little after two minutes in? It’ll make loads of people think their iPhone’s just received a text. That’s deliberate – he says ‘iPhone’ in the line slightly after that.

Tim: Finally, two non-musical observations: I’ve not seen many music videos in 1080p, so they get bonus points for effort there as a minor Danish boyband, and also that girl is totally wasting her time with the dark-haired one. What with that ear stud and the wink and everything, you can stroke him all you want, dearie, but he’s not interested.

Tom: Tim, I’m offended at your stereotyping. He might not be gay – he might just have stepped straight out of the 1990s.

Alex Saidac – We Shine

There is a moment in this song at which you will raise your eyebrows and think ‘huh’.

Tim: There is a moment in this song at which you will raise your eyebrows and think ‘huh’.

Tim: Now, this is very, very odd. Verses that, for me, are almost unlistenable, and chorus that, for me, is almost ‘repeat until death’. I don’t really know what market is being aimed at, here – she’s a professional DJ, so I suppose she must know her audience, but there are people I know who will like the verse, and there are people I know who will like the chorus. Those groups do not intersect – they barely mingle, in fact.

Tom: A bit of techie geekery here: in the waveform that shows up in Soundcloud’s player, you can actually see the difference between verses and chorus. That doesn’t normally happen on modern dance records: they’re all normally compressed into one glutinous mass.

I’m in the chorus-liking group, by the way – and you’re right, I did raise my eyebrows.

Tim: Overall, I have to give it a thumbs-down – much as I love the chorus, the verses cancel that out, and there’s no real big hands in the air moment to get excited about.

Tom: It’s a shame, because it is a lovely chorus, at least to begin with. Shame about the rest of it.

Basto! – Gregory’s Theme

It’s the Jimmy Hart Version of Bromance.

Tim: Belgium isn’t generally known for dance music. Chocolates, yes. Finished diamonds as well, apparently.

Tom: And waffles.

Tim: But dance music, not so much. However, we should change this. Recently we discovered Ian van Dahl were from there, and now here’s another of the country’s exports.

Tom: I went to Belgium once. It wasn’t the most exciting place I’ve visited. This song will have to do a lot to overcome my inherent indifference towards the country.

Tim: Now, once you’ve got past the ‘this is brilliant’ and ‘who’s Gregory?’ phases, your next thought may well be ‘hmm, it’s a bit familiar.’ And yes, it is. It’s almost certainly inspired (perhaps even based on) Tim Berg’s Bromance, which we featured a while back and enjoyed intensely.

Tom: I’d go with “ripped off from”. It’s the Jimmy Hart Version of Bromance – close enough that you’re not going to get sued, but blatantly the same track.

Tim: Well then, question: does it matter? Because this is unquestionably a Good Tune, and quite likely floor-filler. Is it different enough for it not to be the same tune? Yes, of course it is. It is close enough that when I hum it to myself I occasionally end up slipping into Bromance? Well, also yes.

I’m now in a slightly awkward situation. By and large, I highly dislike it when people say ‘oh, it sounds like this, it’s not original, they must have copied it, therefore this is crap,’ as I generally prefer to give people the benefit of the doubt. But here, I just can’t do that. However, because it is so good, regardless of its history I shall give it a big thumbs up. Although part of that decision is because I thought Bromance was great.

Tom: I don’t think it’s as good, and here’s why: Bromance didn’t need vocals. Its melody didn’t get boring half way through, whereas this one does – it’s missing something, and that something is a Love U Seek-style mashup.

I suspect it won’t be long until one arrives.

Tim: Do you know, I think you might be right there.

Lucky Twice – Love Song

It’s a very dance-y dullness, isn’t it?

Tim: A song that was recorded about eighteen months ago, from a group that split up almost a year ago, and whose video is finally seeing the light of day now. And it’s a video straight from the 1980s.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-I4SGSchkh8

Tom: Ooh. Now that has a beat to it. It’s like an 80s director suddenly got a copy of After Effects from the future.

Tim: I have a few problems with this, aside from the general dullness of the track.

Tom: It’s a very dance-y dullness, though, isn’t it? This is something I’d expect to run into in the middle of a Eurodance megamix – catchy, generic, but good enough to keep you moving and smiling.

Tim: It is, I must agree, but the first issue I have is related: that underlying beat is practically identical to another track. I’m not sure which one (and that’s another problem, because I spent the whole time trying to think what it was), and I thought it was Can You Feel It, but it isn’t, quite. But anyway, it’s a fairly dominant beat, and it’s there throughout the whole track. Even though it’s not a direct lift, it’s just too annoying.

Tom: I think you’re remembering the Steps version of ‘Tragedy’, which has the same ‘one-TWO, three’ beat.

Tim: YES! Thank you.

Tom: But it’s not close enough – I think it’s more that just they’re all generic pop beats with a standard chord progression. And there’s nothing wrong with that, Tim, because this particular variation on those generic pop beats is really very danceable indeed.

Tim: True, I suppose. But anyway, that is not the main problem. Not by a long way. Because the question I found myself asking after I heard it is: what were they thinking? Seriously. At 2:25, why? I mean, that’s not just a missed opportunity, that’s an actual crime against music. There SHOULD BE a key change there, regardless of whether you think they’re good or not.

Tom: You’re absolutely right! Can’t believe they didn’t do it.

Tim: What with that and the beat, it’s as though the producer hadn’t actually heard music before making this. It’s no wonder they split up.

Tom: Can’t hear you. I’m too busy dancing in my seat and hitting ‘play’ again.

Saturday Flashback: AnnaGrace – You Make Me Feel

It doesn’t make me want to play laser tag.

Tim: Do you remember Castles in the Sky? Of course you do – it was the early 2000s, as far as I’m concerned a Golden Age of music in Britain, with Eurodance colonising the charts every summer, and that song epitomised it.

Tom: Oh, that takes me back. Specifically, it takes me back to the upper floor of the Nottingham laser tag centre, defending the red base from anyone who tried to make it up the stairs.

Tim: Fast forward a few years, though, and utter tripe has largely taken over.

Tom: I quite like Disturbia, thank you very much.

Tim: Seriously? Huh. Anyway, regardless of the popularity shift, Ian van Dahl are still going, albeit with a different name, and they bring out this, get no airplay because it’s not cool any more, and fail to chart anywhere except their native Belgium.

Tom: Ah, Hard2Beat Records. They know their target market, and they aren’t afraid to pitch to them.

Tim: That failure to chart is a great shame, really, because this is good.

Tom: Now that’s where you’re wrong. It’s competent. It’s not good.

Tim: Well, I’ll accept that it is fairly generic, and does very little to challenge the ‘all dance music sounds the same’ bull that my parents like to put out there every now and again, although it does at least stay away from the snare drum buildup cliche* (by replacing it with a synth buildup instead).

* Related fact: Ayla’s album Nirwana is quite possibly my favourite dance album of ever, vying for the top spot along with Dario G’s Sunmachine, Rank 1’s Symsonic and Darude’s Before the Storm. Three years ago I spent almost six months on eBay, Amazon and the like trying to track down a (reasonably priced) copy before becoming very, very grateful to kevayreski72 for wanting to get rid of his.

Tom: That synth buildup may be the only original thing in the song.

Tim: You know what? I don’t care about originality – I like it, and it reminds me of a better time. Although it isn’t as good as Castles in the Sky.

Tom: Well, of course it isn’t. For a start, it doesn’t make me want to play laser tag.

Saturday Flashback: Shanadoo – My Samurai

There’s no innuendo here at all.

Tom: So, we have a group of attractive female singers in revealing outfits; a Eurobeat-style backing; simple key changes and occasional English lyrics. Textbook J-pop, right?

Tim: That starts off in a similar fashion to Almighty’s version of Never Ending Story and keeps going very well. I like it, verses aside. Well done Tom.

Tom: Well, you see, I showed you that song so I could show you this. Advance warning: this is definitely not suitable for kids, or for anyone who’s likely to have nightmares about being attacked by monsters made of erogenous zones.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=z8kYIZR7ke8

Tim: Umm… Well, it still has a good start to it, I suppose. And the bits that detracted from the last track have gone. Um. That’s probably not what you were wanting me to comment on, is it? To be honest, though, I really can’t think of words to describe what I think of the video.

Tom: So what the hell happened? Well, first things first: E-Rotic aren’t really a group, they’re a “project”. That’s fairly common for Eurodance acts – the vocalists are disposable; what really counts is the producer.

In this case, the producer is a man called David Brandes, who’d came up with the idea of a group whose songs were all based around sex. (I’d say ‘innuendo’, but there’s no innuendo here at all.)

Tim: No. No there isn’t. And I’m guessing you’ve got a whole load more lined up to show me, haven’t you?

Tom: E-Rotic’s other tracks include the prequel to this one, “Max Don’t Have Sex With Your Ex”, as well as “Help Me Dr. Dick”, “In The Heat Of The Night”, and “Test My Best”. The latter includes some… interesting noises from the vocalist.

Tim: There me be something wrong with me, but I actually really like these. Musically, at least, although not so much lyrically.

Tom: Musically, they’re very good. E-Rotic – with a variety of singers – lasted from 1995 until 2003, releasing a half-dozen studio albums and a compilation called “Greatest Tits”. With them finished, David Brandes gets their existing songs rewritten in Japanese, with no sex in them at all, puts together a girl group and presto – a romantic song about fighting for love follows, which promptly gets into the German top 20.

Shanadoo are still going, as well. As for E-Rotic? …well, not so much.

Tim: I can cope with that. Yeah, I can cope.

Yasmin – On My Own

FWEEP.

Tom: “If this isn’t big,” writes Matt, our resident Radio Insider, “I’ll buy a hat so I can eat it.”

Tom: So: let’s run through FWEEP the basics. A horn section; a FWEEP drum and bass backing; a gorgeous voice and FWEEP… is that you, Tim?

Tim: Erm – say what now?

Tom: You know what. Inserting that ‘FWEEP’. The horn squeal. The one that’s really FWEEP bloody noticeable, because it’s been used as FWEEP the main part of ‘Insane in the Membrane‘, and ‘Jump Around‘?

Tim: Oh, that.

Tom: It can’t actually be in Yasmin’s track, because no producer would FWEEP be insane enough to include a sample like that. It’s all anyone will hear. No matter FWEEP how good the rest of the track is – and this track is good – all anyone’s going to hear is FWEEP.

Tim: You think? Because – actual truth – I didn’t notice it until the last part. It’s quiet and infrequent enough for it not to stand out too much, at least until it appears on its own towards the end. The one annoying thing about it is that now I have heard it, I always expect it to hit on the first beat instead of the last. That is what annoys me about it, and the rest is good. But yes – odd placement.

Tom: FWEEP.

Tim: Shut up.

Tom: …fweep?

Almighty Pop Factor – When We Collide

It’s probably a good thing that most Biffy Clyro fans will never hear this.

Tim: For those that don’t know the story: about a year ago Scottish rock band Biffy Clyro came out with Many of Horror, which some fans liked and some fans felt wasn’t as good as the rest of their stuff, mostly because it was less rocky and too mainstream. Eleven months later, Matt Cardle wins The X Factor with a cover of it, retitled as the more family-friendly When We Collide, at which point all the Biffy Clyro fans remarked that it was in fact their best song ever and that Matt Cardle was the son of Satan.

Tom: True as that may be, it’s your typical hands-in-the-air winner’s song.

Tim: And now, as regularly happens with X Factor winners (and, indeed, many other songs) the good folk at Almighty Records have produced their own version, and to be honest it’s probably a good thing that most Biffy Clyro fans will never hear this.

Tom: Oh, Almighty Records, you wonderful people.

Tim: I’ll be honest: I’m a little disappointed.

Tom: Even with the…

Tim: Well, yes, it has the ridiculous and almost barely believable key change that we’ve come to expect, and I think the chiming bells work well, but something seems not quite right. For one, I think it would work better with a male vocalist.

Tom: Have Almighty ever used a male vocalist? I don’t think so. I’d like to hear what they could do with one, though.

Tim: Another thing is that it also seems to be constantly on the verge of fading out, at least whenever there’s an instrumental part. Then even the key change seems like it’s more of a formality than anything else – as though the producer thought ‘Oh, we’d better do that, hadn’t we? Erm, what can we do with it…tell you what, let’s put this effect here, turn that end up a bit, and that should do it. Anyone for the pub?’

Tom: Now you put it that way, I see what you mean – I don’t think I’ve ever heard them actually pitch-bend the whole bit of music before. It’s vaguely unsettling.

Tim: Don’t get me wrong – it’s not bad, obviously. But it’s certainly no You Raise Me Up, that’s for certain.

Tim: Because one key change just isn’t enough.

Tom: It never is, Tim. It never is.

Eric Prydz – Niton (The Reason)

Ooh – this is quite fun, isn’t it?

Tim: The first couple of times I heard this, I thought it was nothing particularly special, and was all ready to pass over it without saying anything. The third time, though, I suddenly found myself really liking it, but I don’t quite know why.

Tom: Well, Tim, I listened three times and I’ve got to say: that didn’t happen for me.

Tim: It like something suddenly happened in my head and I realised ‘Ooh – this is quite fun, isn’t it?’ There’s a bit of energy there, especially when it finally gets going just after two minutes in.

Tom: Why didn’t that happen a minute earlier though? The last thirty seconds of it’s a full Eric Prydz track, and the rest… isn’t. And I’m willing to bet that without scantily-clad dance instructors this ain’t going anywhere.

Tim: Much like the Dilba track, it’s never going to get anyone begging the DJ to play it, but it would certainly go down very well with a happy crowd. Thumbs up from me.

Natasha Thomas – Alene

Now what we have here, children, is a lesson for life.

Tim: Now what we have here, children, is a lesson for life.

Tom: Ooh, right. I’m sitting comfortably. You should begin.

Tim: You see, it starts off with a fairly healthy bass line and plenty of potential. With the beat that it has, it could go anywhere – turn into a proper dance tune, give us a great big cheesy chorus and massive key change or maybe even become some sort of Danish hip hop.

Tom: It’s like an ugly duckling, all ready to turn into a swan!

Tim: Does it do any of this? No. Absolutely not.

Tom: Oh.

Tim: It started with a healthy beat, it finished with a healthy beat, but it did absolutely nothing in between, and was entirely disappointing. It’s the musical equivalent of someone who is born, goes to school, just about passes his exams, gets a job in a small accountancy firm, retires at the age of 65 and then has a heart attack without anyone really noticing.

Tom: Damn.

Tim: Don’t be this song, kids. Do something with your lives.

Tom: You are so not Aesop, Tim.