Tim: This is the lead single from a new album, presented here with a warning that the video contains exceptionally dodgy green screen effects.
Tom: That is a proper low-budget-trying-to-be-high-budget video. They haven’t even got a make-up person in to take the shine off his forehead. And I say that as someone with a very shiny forehead.
Tim: (For those that don’t know Tom, his forehead’s really just a mirror in disguise.)
Tom: At that point, you shouldn’t really try for a fancy video; either get a designer to do a decent lyric video, or just use behind-the-scenes footage like everyone else does. In fact, I’m going to tab away from it quickly: it’s actually making me think the music’s worse than it is.
Tim: Good, because the music’s not that bad at all, although I can’t think of much to say about it. Generic? Yes. In a good way, though? Also yes.
Tom: Top voice, top synth work – the sweep across the synth drumkit before the final chorus is a nice touch. It’s a decent single… mostly.
Tim: You mean the shift out of the middle eight? Fake endings aren’t new, but here it is, well, interesting.
Tom: That’s the part that stuck out like a sore thumb. It’s weird – it sounded like a bad edit to me, like someone didn’t quite set things up properly.
Tim: Remember how I said most of the good Danish ones have had their performance videos pulled from YouTube? Well, that’s still the case but this one that came a close second has a proper music video, so we can watch that.
Tom: That is quite the promising piano intro there.
Tim: The old man looking at pictures and stuff in the video strikes me as sentimental claptrap*, so let’s ignore that and move onto the song.
* Call me soulless, but I seem to be one of the few people who didn’t get tearful during the beginning of Up.
Tom: Harsh, but not entirely unjustified. It is a rather good song, though.
Tim: Jesper came third in Danish X Factor 2010, and my word he’s got a decent voice. The verses here are soulful and meaningful, but the song dutifully livens up for the choruses. I have a bit of an issue with the ending, although that’s partly just my ‘there MUST be a clearly defined middle eight and closing section in EVERY song’ mentality, as it does draw the song to a close effectively.
Tom: Remember a while back, when I was complaining about piano-pop getting a bit boring? This is the kind of track I was wanting to hear. You’ve got a well-defined second melody line coming from the piano, but the main melody is entirely different and being carried by someone with a really rather good voice.
Tim: I have no idea what it looked like being performed, but I’m guessing there were hearts and things all over the place—
Tom: “Things”?
Tim: Yes, things. Quiet at the back, please.
Tom: Yes, miss.
Tim: And these hearts and things would have got the mums’ vote easily enough along with him looking like a little darling (17, if you’re wondering). Then there’s the old folks’ vote with the sentimentality of it all, the young girls’ vote with the looks – he’s got the whole market covered, really and I’m a bit surprised he came last out of the text voting, but there you go. That’s Eurovision.
Tom: Avril Lavigne cover? No. Never mind, forget I asked.
Tim: I think I should. Quite what Mizuna Greens are, I have absolutely no idea (though according to Wikipedia, mizuna is a sort of spicy flavour, which would sort of indicate that these people identify with village open spaces that have had Japanese stir-fries spilt on them); regardless, we got sent this and it’s really rather pleasant.
Tom: Remind me never to ask you any etymology questions, Tim.
Tom: Ooh, that’s all deep and emotional, isn’t it?
Tim: Takes a while to build up, sure, but by a minute or so in it’s got something quite strong going.
Tom: It’s rare that a singer has the voice to match lyrics like this, but she definitely does.
Tim: The lyrics are, well, complicated – something about heartache, and nothing ever turning out right, so we should break up, but with all sorts of extra metaphors and stuff like business and haunting and fairytales and stuff.
Tom: Deep lyrical analysis, there.
Tim: What, you want Advanced Etymology and Basic Lyrical Interpretation in one post? I know I’m a very competent person, but I think that’s asking a bit much, even for me.
Tom: I think not using ‘stuff’ twice in the same sentence would be a good start.
Tim: Fair point. Anyway, this stuff’s basically a thoroughly depressing song, if you spend the effort working out what the lyrical stuff is. On the other hand, if you just listen to the musicy stuff you get something else going on. It’s a sort of Florence and the Machine type of stuff, with a voice that you know will get you down if you concentrate on it, so you kind of want to shut it out and listen to that lovely piano stuff going on in the background.
Tom: And there’s some gorgeous guitar-playing in there: the moody, Dire Straits kind of mournful, singing guitar that evokes memories of lost loves and rain pouring down on windows. I could listen to that for quite a while.
Tim: But if you do just concentrate on that, you miss out on her fantastic voice.
Tom: There’s a lot of pain in this song, and I mean that as a sincere compliment. I’m going to go and give someone a hug.
“Both big and small and dark and sweet at the same time.”
Tim: Debut single from a Swedish singer, who has described it as an “off-centred synthballad” that is “both big and small and dark and sweet at the same time”.
Tom: What?
Tim: Yeah – sounds like a load of pretentious rubbish to me, but let’s have a listen anyway.
Tim: Hmm. I think that could be one of the hardest tracks to write about I’ve come across, actually.
Tom: Weirdly, I can see what those descriptions mean, now. It is a synth-ballad, it is indeed off-centre, and… well, it fits all that. I just can’t decide if it’s any good.
Tim: For a start, it seems instantly forgettable. That’s kind of a bad thing, but I think it’s due to the way the song fluctuates so much between various moods – an utterly downbeat verse, big charming chorus instrumentation but still with the same negative vocals, then added the sort of middle eight bit where the instruments more than cancel out the vocals and it all sort of merges together in a bit of a gloop, really.
Tom: I think I like it. It’s deep, and it’s moody. It’s the kind of music that gets you fired up, rather than dancing or happy. There’s not enough of that.
Tim: It was alright – I’d happily listen to it again, I know that much, but I don’t really know quite why, or what it is I liked about it.
I should warn you that the chorus is a bit of a racket.
Tim: This is the debut single from a Danish lady, but first I should warn you that the chorus is a bit of a racket.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Y4Ulw2PPQzQ
Tom: And the rest of the backing is a bit 1970s. I… I think I like it, even though it’s a racket.
Tim: Yeah – it’s not that bad of a racket, is it? You could probably tone the backing down a bit and no-one would really mind, though it does serve to make the verses seem positively quiet, even though they’re not particularly dull. Is that a good thing? I’m not sure, but I think when it’s all put together it works fairly well.
Tom: Yep. It’s dodgy simile time, Tim: this track is like a milkshake that’s so thick you can barely suck it up through the straw. It’s still really nice, but you have to work to get at it.
Does that make any sense?
Tim: As much sense as a lot of the stuff we write on here. It’s a decent tune, though by the end of the song I do wish it would calm down just a tad.
Music video with a cheap but vaguely impressive gimmick, anyone?
Tim: Music video with a cheap but vaguely impressive gimmick, anyone?
Tom: That’s usually a good sign.
Tom: Ah, the old “one take” video.
Tim: So, we have a transformation of a bloke from ordinary guy into big popstar in three minutes and thirty seconds, no questions asked. A rather rushed metaphorical version, I suppose, of the actually bloke in an audition queue to Swedish Idol runner-up, this is perhaps his version of a credibility claim, and it’s vastly more impressive that Matt Cardle’s various attempts. Anyway, all he can think about during this period, despite everything that’s happening, is You. Isn’t that sweet?
Tom: Well, the man-collapsed-becoming-popstar shtick has been done in a very similar fashion before, notably by Coldplay – and while their version’s a lot more impressive, they took a lot more liberty with cuts and edits than Robin Stjernberg’s team have. This does have the rather dodgy air of a lip dub about it, though.
Tim: Well, of course it is – aren’t most music videos? Yes, it’s a little more obvious here what with the near-constant focus of him singing, but it’s hardly something that can be avoided.
Tom: There’s a difference, though: a single shot, one person singing into camera as they walk around, no additional “artistic” shots. It’s a subtle distinction, but this feels like it’s on the wrong side of it.
Tim: Hmm, maybe. Overall, though, it’s a decent debut single from someone who wants to be a well-known popstar.
Tom: Right. There’s nothing wrong with it, actually, particularly if you want pleasant, soaring lyrics and a decent voice performing them.
Tim: Unfortunately, though, my attention keeps getting drawn to the video, especially Amanda and the expression on her face. She pretty much behaves like a normal person would if a bloke got into a lift and started singing to a camera: basically, stand there tolerating it, but feeling remarkably uncomfortable, trying to persuade herself that everything’s normal, but sneaking the occasional glance just to check that he’s actually still there and it’s not just all in her head. Then get off at the next available opportunity, whether it’s her floor or not.
Tom: I wonder if she was meant to be there, or if they just added her to the “script” afterwards?
This is what happens in Norway when extended metaphors are allowed to run and run and run.
Tim: This is what happens in Norway when extended metaphors are allowed to run and run and run.
Tom: Hey, it’s Norwegian Gary Barlow! Seriously, if he isn’t on their version of the X Factor, something’s gone wrong.
Tim: He does look weirdly similar, doesn’t he? Can we put a tracker on Gary just to make sure it isn’t him?
Tom: A tracker on Gary Barlow? That’s Jason Orange, isn’t it?
Tim: Anyway, we start off with the idea of his infatuation with the target of the song as a disease – in the chorus, he plans on making it better. Sadly, that seems not to work, as by the second verse it’s turned into an epidemic. In the second chorus he reaffirms his intention to make it better nonetheless, but in the middle eight the feeling, much like the metaphor itself, is out of his control. I suppose it’s a good thing there’s a three minute limit, really, because otherwise he’d probably start vaccinating the audience.
Tom: I’m assuming the backup dancers dressed as doctors didn’t make it on the night, then.
Tim: Given that no-one really pays attention to the lyrics at Eurovision, though…
Tom: Apart from you.
Tim: Apart from me, what with it only being played once, that doesn’t remotely matter. What matters is the music, and I think it’s flipping fantastic. It is, in its own way, somewhat infectious – a catchy melody for the vocals and some great instrumentation backing up the chorus.
Tom: Decent middle eight, too – complete with cheeky Take That-esque wink to the camera. SEE? IT’S BARLOW.
Tim: My one big upset is that they only used lots of lights for the staging, rather than having, say, hundreds of giant microbes falling from the ceiling after his quiet singing, which he could then kick off the stage (infecting the audience, you see) for the rest of the middle eight, rather than stand around with not much to do.
Tom: You should totally be a Eurovision staging director. I can’t see what could possibly go wrong.
Tom: One, two, three, four! What? Sorry. I was counting in there. Not sure why. Can’t even play the drums, really.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=i23Fe2Stqdk
Tim: I should explain: I’m in an unusually very upbeat mood at the moment (no idea why), so I’m having difficulty finding criticisms of songs. But I genuinely think there’s not a lot I could criticise here even if I wanted to.
Tom: Unexpectedly downbeat first verse after a very strong introduction? The fact that it’s basically a cross between Madonna’s Holiday and Kool and the Gang’s Celebration? The fact it’s a bit more of an album track than a lead single? Okay, I’m trying to be the pessimist to your optimist here, so perhaps those are a bit unfounded. Ultimately, it’s not “10,000 Nights”, but it’s not bad.
Tim: The verse isn’t downbeat – it’s just not as upbeat as the intro and chorus. But listen to that chorus – it’s great. “Leave your troubles way behind, we gonna have a good time…have yourselves a good vacation.” Add to all that the as-usual-great Alphabeat style, and who can complain about it? They even talk about nose-picking, which is a delightful first for a pop song, as far as I’m aware.
Tom: Wait, what? Delightful?
Tim: Oh yes. I’ve always though you don’t get anywhere near as many references to it as you should.
Tom: Well, if you feel like being nauseated, have a read about Frank Zappa’s friends.
Tim: Oh. Hmm. Blimey. Actually, thoug, I’ve just realised there is a way this could have been improved – key change at 2:32. Yes – that’s the sort of mood I’m in.
Tom: I’m not sure I can trust your judgment at the minute.
So, here it is. Britain’s entry for Eurovision 2012.
Tim: So, here it is. Britain’s entry for Eurovision 2012, announced a while back as Engelbert Humperdinck to varying levels of enthusiasm. And now it’s here, so let’s have a listen.
Tom: First of all, he’s clearly still got the voice. And what a voice it is.
Tim: Indeed. It’s pretty much, well, exactly what I thought it would be, and to be honest what I was worried it would be. Sure, it’s a vaguely decent song, and there’s no doubting the guy can hit the notes – like you say, he’s still got the voice – but there are issues all over the place.
Tom: Here’s my problem, Tim: it’s not big enough. Let’s compare this to classic Humperdinck: his 1969 track Les Bicyclettes De Belsize. He’s got more behind him here, including a fairly muted drumkit, a backing choir, and what appears to be a handbell.
Okay, so the latter is probably a bit much, granted; but for someone who rivalled Tom Jones in more ways than one, his voice needs something more behind it than a solitary guitar. Otherwise it sounds a bit like a man shouting in the middle of a funeral parlour.
Tim: That’s one issue, right there. Then there’s the key change. They often get criticised for only being used to liven up a dull song, often unfairly and unjustly. But here, that’s exactly what it’s doing, and it’s so predictable it’s almost pathetic. It’s not even a good one that’s accompanied by a magnificent increase in instrumentation or anything.
Tom: Well, here’s another example: Release Me. His songs didn’t get bigger than this. Orchestra and choir, and still his voice is beating them all – and you get the feeling his voice would still beat them all without a microphone. Just listen to that key change!
Tim: Yes – that’s a decent one. My main problem, though, is that I can’t imagine this as a decent performance. We all know Eurovision’s just as much about putting on a decent show as it is singing a good song, but you couldn’t have bright lights moving all over the place with this, or scantily clad dancers on plinths throwing their legs all over the place. All you could justifiably have is, well, what’s in the video – like you said, it’s just not big enough.
Regardless of whether there’s such a thing as a Eurovision track or not, this sure as hell won’t be a Eurovision performance.
Tom: As far as I can tell, neither of us has any criticisms of the lyrics, the melody or the singer. It’s a decent song, and he can certainly sing it. It’s a proper, modern euro-ballad.
Tim: No it’s not – like you say, it’s nowhere near big enough with just that guitar and the strings. Would even a couple of drums be too much to ask for? Right now it’s nowhere near a euro-ballad – it’s closer to a euro-campfire song.
Tom: It’ll just be a very static, and very pared-down performance, and I’ve honestly got no idea how Eurovision will react to it.
Tim: My prediction: older folks, and people that know and like him, will get on with it well. Everybody else? They’ll be hoping Jedward’s not too far away.
Tom: “Should have direct qualified”, opines our regular reader Roger.
Tim: Indeed – was very much one of the best of the third Melodifestivalen night.
Tom: Well, they didn’t, so let’s find out why.
Tim: Huh. Actually, I can’t think of why. I can see the Saturdays putting this out, and it reaching at least the top 10. In fact, if the video were a little lower quality, I reckon you could have convinced me that these were three of the Saturdays. You know, that one, that one, and the other one.
Tom: Well, it is a RedOne-produced number, so comparisons with Big Proper Pop are somewhat inevitable, and here definitely deserved. Although if we are comparing them to the Saturdays, I actually think the one on the right looks more like that one than that one.
Tim: She’s actually the one that made me think about that one. True story.
Tom: Love Generation used to have five members, though; there’s been a steady rate of attrition ever since they formed.
Tim: Maybe we should take bets on who’ll be this year’s departure – I’m betting Charly Q, who apparently is a good four years older than the other two.
Tom: Anyway, it’s a good track, perhaps not the most melodic of that Melodifestivalen bunch, but certainly danceable. And this is a live performance, too – incredibly polished, even down to the sort-of-UV lighting during that unexpected middle eight.
Tim: If I were to come up with a theory for why this didn’t get through (and believe it not, I have done), it would be that this is too mainstream. This isn’t Swedish pop – it’s American Nicole Scherzinger/Lady Gaga style stuff, and not exactly representative of the country’s output.
Tom: Then I think it deserves more than Melodifestivalen, because it could have done very well.
