Tom: You’ll remember the Vengaboys’ suitably ridiculous Kiss, of course.
Tim: I do, yes. It’s about a minute longer than it needs to be, but it’s a good track.
Tom: It’s a good, cheesy pop track in itself. But I offer this remix for two reasons: first, to show just how much a track can be changed and still count as a remix; and second, because it’s some of the best euphoric trance I’ve ever heard.
Tim: That’s a remix? Really?
Tom: Now bear in mind it’s a seven-minute track meant to go inside a DJ set – I don’t want you shouting “it should be three minutes long” at me.
Tim: Absolutely not – I’m more than happy for dance tracks to be lengthy, especially if they’re as good as this.
Tom: The funny thing is, I’m normally quite good at tracking songs that sound like each other – and while, yes, you can fit the chorus of “Kiss” over the top of the main melody here, most of this seems to be original material.
Tim: Well, to be honest I’m not sure I can hear any of it in there. You’re right, you can put the chorus on top, but I’d imagine that sounding more like a mash up than anything else.
Tom: Not that I’m complaining: it’s really good original material.
Tim: We got sent this a while ago, but in my disorganised manner I’ve only just got round to listening to it; apologies to Leo, because it is in fact rather good.
Tom: A quick viewer warning for scenes of torture and strange violence in the video, and not-particularly-enunciated profanity in the lyrics.
Tim: First things first: that annoying bit in the middle with his head under water.
Tom: That’s how you stop people ripping it off YouTube.
Tim: It is, yes, but fortunately I’ve found a way past it. You just need to grab a big bowl of water yourself, put your head in it, and press play. A minute forty five later, pull your head out for twenty seconds, and then you won’t notice anything. Sorted.
Tom: Genius. But never mind that, I want to know how his shirt stayed on while she’s dragging him across the ground like that.
Tim: Now you mention it, it is a slightly disturbing video; annoyingly I can’t really make out a lot of the lyrics so I’ve got no idea if it’s justified. According to his e-mail, “People often ask me: ‘What it is this song about?’… Those are questions of no importance to me. Nothing really matters until you actually feel the heartbeat of the singers voice”, so I thought it would be a bit rude to ask him. It seems to fit well with the tone of the music, though, so I’ll let it pass.
Tom: Yep, other than the occasional bit of possibly-swearing I’m not sure I could make much of it out.
Tim: The actual music, though, is quite good. A tad depressing, a bit low-key, but as a depressing low-key song it works well. I for one certainly want to go into my bathroom and start…
Tom: Don’t finish that sentence, Tim. Just… just don’t.
Tom: Our regular reader, Roger, writes in with this contender to represent Finland at Eurovision, which last Thursday got sent straight through to their final. “I actually was in Finland when they aired their first preshow,” he says. “This made me lift may head and smile… you can see the same reaction from the jury”.
Now, maybe it’s just my crippling fear of commitment rearing its head, but my general reaction to this track was NOPE NOPE NOPE NOPE.
Tom: The track’s not bad, I guess, but oh my word, the lyrics. I can’t even write about them without my sentences ending with something like BACK UP BACK UP BACK UP GET OUT GET OUT.
Tim: In the chorus…what’s she singing in that repeating bit? The line after it is clearly “I’d do it for you”, but it really really sounds like something else.
Tom: I don’t know, because I’m too terrified by “If you run away, I’m going to find you anywhere.” EJECT EJECT EJECT.
Tim: That’s your main beef? Not “ah oh, ah oh uh ding dong”?
Tom: That doesn’t have terrifying, wedding-dress-wearing stalking overtones.
Tim: Fair point, and now you mention that line, the suggestion of doubt that it implies doesn’t quite match with proposing to her boyfriend whilst wearing her wedding dress. WHO DOES THAT?
Tim: You’ll remember (I hope) that yesterday we featured Darin’s new single, Playing With Fire. This, though, is a different new single, targeted squarely away from Scandinavia, by which I mean it’s being released in Germany, and isn’t even on his new album for any Scandinavian people. Weird, yes, but there you go.
Tom: Advance warning: this isn’t the best quality single, and it cuts off a bit too early – but it’s all we’ve got right now.
Tim: So, as far as northern Europe is concerned, Darin has moved to being a bit darker and drum’n’bassier. For everyone else, though, he’s staying firmly put in the pop bracket. And I’ll be honest: I prefer this a lot.
Tom: Damn right. The dark drum-and-bass didn’t fit him well – this is some damn good pop. What’s your reasoning?
Tim: Mainly because it sounds like a textbook good One Direction single, which we all know I’m not remotely averse to – the opening is in fact remarkably similar to Live While We’re Young, but that’s by no means a bad thing (especially since it means it’s got guitars).
Tom: Let the guitars go, Tim.
Tim: Oh, fine. Quite why we’ve got this strange genre-split is beyond me—if you’re branching out, why go with a sound that isn’t you?—but I’d rather have one track I really liked and one track I’m half and half with than just the latter, so let’s hope this does well. Although if we could have a decent version online at some point rather than a horribly compressed fan upload, that’d be nice, and also get rid of the fade-out ending. THANK YOU.
“A year between singles. He’s no Rihanna, that’s for sure.”
Tim: It’s been a long time coming, especially as the two EPs that were promised last year never actually materialised, but Darin’s sixth album is finally out at the end of the month; here’s the second single, after last February’s Nobody Knows.
Tom: A year between singles. He’s no Rihanna, that’s for sure.
Tom: Hmm. Well, that’s…. OK? I guess? I mean, I know it’s a bit rich to call out pop music for being repetitive, but this does seem to go on a bit.
Tim: Synth stuff, dance bit, great. Vocals and lyrics as good as necessary for a dance track like think. But the main “You keep playing with fire”? Actually, not so keen, or at least not at the start – the second batch in each chorus works alright, and it gets more listenable throughout the track and with further listens, but the initial rounds with next to nothing underneath aside from the one heavy beat does quite put me off this.
Tom: Agreed.
Tim: Which is a shame, because the rest is all great.
“I’m fairly sure that’s basically ‘Euphoria’ tarted up a bit.”
Tim: Remember how, last May, Loreen won the Eurovision Song Contest?
Tom: I did. She was very good.
Tim: And you remember the main hook of the song was the “eu-PHOOOOOOR-i-AH” bit?
Tom: How could I forget? I always sing “euphonium” along to it instead.
Tim: Well, from the song that Cascada wants to enter this year’s contest with, it seems she remembers as well.
Tom: Hmm. That’s… close. That’s quite close. In fact, I’m fairly sure that’s basically ‘Euphoria’ tarted up a bit.
Tim: It’s a decent song – the original stuff is very good, danceable and perfectly listenable. Easily, a possible contender. So, why oh why did they lift the hook, note for note, from last year’s winner? How can that possibly go anywhere?
Tom: It is still a good song, though. With her name behind it, I can actually see it winning, assuming the juries don’t just go “no, that’s a blatant ripoff, nul points.”
Tim: You know, I think you could be right. But still, I’m trying to imagine a conversation that might have happened, at some point in the production process – the only scene I’ve got in my head is a meeting between an angry producer demanding an immediate people-pleaser and Euphoria being the only CD the assistant’s got to hand as an example. “THAT’S GOOD! Now take it away and make it a bit different.”
A month later, “NO! That’s TOO DIFFERENT. Make it LESS SO, and also throw in a bit of The Wanted at the start to throw people off the scent.”
Tom: Now I disagree there, but I can’t put my finger on why. I suspect this might just be my personal taste getting in the way: it certainly ticks all the boxes.
Tim: It really does. A great chorus. Brilliant instrumentation (with multiple guitars, you’ll notice). An excellent voice. And a cracking key change. I don’t think there’s anything more we need from a song, is there?
Tom: Well, it depends on the song. If we were looking at a concept album by Jack White, for instance, perhaps we’d be looking for narrative consistency and some experimental materials.
Tim: You might – I’d be wanting a decent key change.
Tom: Fortunately, this isn’t a concept album by Jack White, so I suspect we’re all good.
Tim: Pretty much, yes, although I suppose we could complete the set with a nice inspiring message in the lyrics; it’s fortunate, then, that the title means “Don’t Give Up”, and so we have our full house. Wonderful, more like this please.
Tim: Yes, we did a Frida Sundemo track just a few days ago. But this is off the same released-in-March EP, quite a bit better than Indigo, and (to top it all) somewhat topical. What fun.
Tom: That’s a builder and no mistake. What a difference from a few days ago.
Tim: Absolutely – the video is not disturbing, the lyrics are not nonsensical, and even better than that, it does more than just squat. Instead, it gets up and does stuff. Not too much, obviously – it’s meant to be a sad song about not enjoying being alone.
Tom: There are parts where that comes through a little too strongly – that glitchy, repeating part at the end of the chorus grates badly for me – but the rest of the chorus is so good that I can’t really complain.
Tim: Good. And despite the song’s sadness, it makes a very good job of dancing around at times, building snowmen, and in the quieter moments you can imagine it lying down to making angel shapes.
Tom: I think this metaphor might be getting away from you.
Tim: And yet I shall persist. It might not want to be outside at all – it would probably rather be inside, being given a mug of hot chocolate from its more upbeat friends, but while it’s out there it’s damn sure it’s going to make the best of a situation that’s almost as bad as, I suppose I should agree, this metaphor has become.
Tim: Part of me feels I should apologise from the get go, here. This is a boyband comprising three 14/15 kids that, much like INJU5TICE and FriXion, is destined for ignominy, obscurity and oblivion. And it’s a pretty terrible track. Why are we covering it, then? What is remotely noticeable about it? Well, the band is the sole output of Duncan Bannatyne’s new record label. Yes.
Tom: I’ve been playing around with Melodyne over the last few days – the industry-standard pitch-correction-slash-Autotune tool. I’ve found that I really can’t sing – and I’ve had that told to me in cold, mathematical detail – but I’ve also found that autotune is really, really obvious when you have pitch that’s as bad as mine.
So either one or more of these guys can’t sing, or they really need to upgrade their copy of Melodyne.
Tim: Now, we think, Bannatyne is a business genius, and must have some brilliant marketing people. So what have they called the record label? Bannertune, maybe, or perhaps Bangertyne. Or, if he’s feeling cheeky, POP! Bangertyne! But no, it’s Bannatyne Records. OPPORTUNITY MISSED, DUNCS.
Tom: “POP! Bangertyne!”? Bloody hell, Tim, you should be in marketing.
Tim: You’re very kind. But let’s move on. The song. Let’s be honest, it’s not remotely notable.
Tom: It’s not notable, but I will say this: it is competent. Mostly. I mean, I keep thinking that “picking the numbers” will become “picking the nose”, and “kissing an angel” sounds remarkably like “kissing a ninja”, but it’s not actually a bad track. I can see it being an album track for a proper mainstream pop band, and hell, if One Direction somehow decided to put it out it’d still race to the top of the charts.
The previous bands we’ve mocked really did have terrible singles – but this isn’t terrible.
Tim: No – perhaps I was slightly harsh, almost predisposed to disliking it. But it’s really not special.
The band? The blond one’s eyebrows look a bit scary, but again, nothing notable. The video? Well, the ugly nerdy does not, in strict violation of correct policy and procedure, suddenly turn beautiful thanks to something or other during the middle eight, so that’s out.
Tom: It’s a pretty cringeworthy video, to be sure – they haven’t quite got the budget or acting chops to pull off what they want to pull off.
Tim: I can, basically, think of nothing positive to say about this.
Tom: Have another listen. Much as I’d love to hate it, I don’t. As a cheap and cheesy pop song, it’s good.
Tim: The song may be alright, but nowhere near good enough to raise the band to an acceptable level. So, are you going to say it, or shall I?
Tom: Take it.
Tim: Duncan. The track is mediocre. The band is disappointing. The video is distinctly sub-par. For those reasons, I’m out.
Tom: And now, the creepiest video I’ve seen in a little while.
Tim: Having previously worked as a mascot for the best part of a year, I’d like to express my disapproval that he’s not wearing paws. That there makes it quite clear that it is not, in fact, a massive bunny rabbit that she’s having relationship issues with, which is just not right.
Tom: “You’re an indigo”?
Tim: YOUR MUM’S AN INDIGO.
Tom: Look, I know I shouldn’t complain about nonsense lyrics in pop, but that’s nonsense in several different ways.
Tim: Shouldn’t you? Why on Earth not? We complain about everything else, and this is just bloody ridiculous.
Tom: And maybe I could forgive it if the rest of the track was worth it: but the rest of the track just kind of squats around for a bit.
Tim: ‘Squats.’ That’s a good word to use. Well done.
Tom: She’s singing, yes, and there’s some instrumentation. It’s upbeat, sure, but for want of a better metaphor it just seems to be running on the spot, never quite going anywhere. Aside from the brief middle eight, it’s all the bloody same. Sometimes that works, and here… here it doesn’t.
