Saturday Flashback: A Silent Film – Danny, Dakota & the Wishing Well

“It starts out quite promising…”

Tim: Not the first time where I’ve had trouble working out which is the artist and which is the title; definitely the first time where my initial guess was completey wrong and I had to check several times.

Adam: Danny, Dakota & the Wishing Well would be a good name for a twee folk band!

Tim: Well quite, but here we are definitely the other way round. This is from 2012, and was sent in this week by reader Drake; he says it is European (well, Oxford), it is pop (though they describe themselves as indie), and it is very good (definitely).

Adam: This immediately makes me think of Snow Patrol. Which isn’t a good thing.

Tim: Really? I don’t get that at all. The band are currently a duo, though have had up to four members previously, and this was released as a trio and now I’m bored of admin. It’s hard to disagree with any of the three adjectives we’re offered.

Adam: Considering a lot of what gives this song it’s character is the accompanying strings I don’t think it really matters how many people are in the band.

Tim: The first minute offers something very different from what comes later, and much as I was looking forward to hearing the initial genre jump forth, what replaces it is not remotely disappointing.

Adam: I think quite the opposite. It starts out quite promising and loses it with all the bombast. I’ve got to remember that this came out 4 years ago. Musical trends change so maybe the intro would’ve made this track special in 2012 but the rest of the track just sounds a bit dated to me.

Tim: Oh, shame – I’m fine with it. In one respect, it reminds me of when The Killers went electro. Not a mixture you’d initially think would work, but actually ends up sounding very good indeed.

Adam: Oh wow I’ve never heard that Killers track before. It’s so much better than this. It has some soul to it.

Tim: Ah, but is it a soldier?

Joshua Radin & Måns Zelmerlöw – Belong

“Oh Måns, why must you abandon us?“

Tim: Second track with Måns singing in just a few days, and I think it’s time to accept the depressing truth: Måns has moved on to guitar pop.

Adam: What’s depressing about guitar pop?! It’s great! First you insult Ukuleles, now this…

Tim: Oh, nothing wrong with guitar pop per se – it’s just frequently very dull, and nowhere near as reliably enjoyable as dance pop typically is. But there are exceptions. Let’s see.

Tim: Because I guess he does at least have strong vocal talents, and it’s nice that they’re not being wasted.

Adam: I’m a fan of a few of Joshua Radin’s songs after they were featured in a couple of Scrubs episodes! He’s a bit of a guilty pleasure to be honest with you. 

Tim: Oh, you said the GP phrase, and that’s definitely an argument we’ll have to have later, probably in a sound-proofed room so we don’t deafen the neighbours. But I’m guessing the general premise here is that Joshua’s stuff wasn’t selling too well, so he called in a favour, or maybe just asked nicely, and got Måns to re-record the second chorus.

Adam: Apparently Joshua Radin’s second album got to ninth in the U.K. album charts and he’s done pretty well at home in America so he’s bigger than even I thought he was. Maybe it’s more Josh helping Måns out here? I’m so out of the loop though so maybe Måns is bigger than I think too. 

Tim: Mate, he won Eurovision with one of the best winners in years. Maybe he wants America, Josh wants Europe, I don’t know. So far, so standard; indeed, standard all over really. Like Tuesday’s it’s very listenable, well produced, and nothing really to complain about.

Adam: I actually quite enjoy it!

Tim: Enjoyable, maybe, but again, nothing to get excited about either. Oh Måns, why must you abandon us?

The Chainsmokers – Closer

“It’s the sort of thing that a ten year old would pull out for an English poetry homework.”

Tim: An anonymous reader suggested we cover this; there’s no Europe connection, but I figured we could feature it because (a) it’s perfectly serviceable pop and (b) it has some of the most ludicrous rhyming this side of Dr Seuss.

Adam: It’s all so uninspired. The chord sequence just repeats itself through the verses and choruses. The video is some aspirational nonsense. The lyrics are just the sickly icing on this overbaked cake. (Any Bake Off fans?)

Tim: Not me, but have some bonus points for topicality. And seriously, “baby pull me closer on the back seat of your Rover…your roommate back in Boulder, we ain’t ever getting older”, how forced can you get?

Adam: They name drop Blink-182 who, along with Taking Back Sunday, were apparently the inspiration behind this. I love both these bands to bits. Blink-182 never had the maturest lyrics but they’re Simon and Garfunkle compared to The Chainsmokers.

Tim: It’s the sort of thing that a ten year old would pull out for an English poetry homework. And sure, people may read this and think “well you couldn’t do any better” which is a valid reaction, but that doesn’t make it any less true.

Adam: And the thing is I agree with you fully but there are many members of the music buying public who would seem to disagree. It’s sold incredibly well around the world.

Tim: And yet I’d take issue with your slight sense of superiority there, because the selling (or at least streaming) well leads on to the fact that there’s a reason I’m being particularly harsh on this. That is: despite not wanting to, I actually like this song a lot and can’t help that, and so I hate it for that.

Adam: Seriously, as much as I obviously dislike this it’s done it’s job and is now stuck in my head…

Tim: Yep – it’s basically a verbal ukulele. DAMMIT.

Saturday Flashback: Precious – Say It Again

“I’m down for getting a mob together”

Tim: Currently being fairly successfully on British radio is Frances’s song Say It Again; it’s by and large quite good, with one exception. Have a quick listen to that chorus line, 34 seconds in, and then play this, the mid-table British entry for Eurovision 1999.

Tim: And what a TOP pop song that is – verses don’t have much to them and are arguably a tad forgettable, but that key change is prime example of a feature/benefit mix.

Adam: Who doesn’t love a good key change? This song is so ridiculously nineties and I’m loving it. The horn stabs. The vinyl scratches. The insane use of wind machines in the music video.

Tim: Right? But on top of all that, though, is that chorus line, “Say it again, say yeeaahh”. It’s a true all time classic, and yet Frances has SHAMELESSLY STOLEN IT, and I think that’s just rude.

Adam: It doesn’t matter because Precious wins. Her song is much better in my opinion. I’m down for getting a mob together and starting a riot though – I keep my pitchfork sharpened for these kinds of situations.

Tim: Damn, if only you’d been around when we wrote about Calum Scott.

Bastille – Good Grief

Tom: Our reader, Alan, sends in the first single from Bastille’s new album. The video is very NSFW thanks to a surprising amount of artistic toplessness.

Tom: Brilliant video. Love the video. Love everything about the video.

Tim: It’s a fun video, certainly – not sure I quite get the overarching narrative, mind, but okay.

Tom: The song is… well, it’s Bastille.

Tim: Not just that, it’s good Bastille.

Tom: I can sing the chorus after one listen, so that’s a mark in its favour, and I’ll probably like it when it turns up on the radio — inevitably, repeatedly on the radio. But for some reason, as you can tell by that last, long, run-on sentence, there’s something cynical set up in my head.

I can’t work out why it hasn’t won me over. Is it just that I don’t like it, and the video distracted me?

Tim: I don’t know, because I do really like it. I listened again to be less distracted by the video, and I’ve heard it on the radio, and I’ve liked it whenever I’ve heard. Give it another go, why don’t you.

Tom: I will, but it’ll be while I’m gone. Our reader may have noticed some changes around here: partly that that’s because the site design was five years old, and partly because while I’m off for three weeks without an internet connection, someone is taking over for me. Tim, I’ll leave it with you.

Tim: I’ll try not to damage anything.

Galantis and East & Young – Make Me Feel

“I can identify two things wrong with this.”

Tom: Another EDM track sent in by one of our readers, with some very guarded praise: it’s good for “some middle-of-the-set action”.

Tom: And again, our reader isn’t wrong. There’s nothing wrong with this at all – Galantis know what they’re doing, and whoever East & Young are, they do too. But for some reason, it isn’t as fun to listen to as yesterday’s collaboration; what’s missing?

Tim: See, I’d dispute the “nothing wrong with this”, because I can identify two things off bat that link directly to your lack of fun comment. First up: the verses. The chorus is happy, chirpy, pleasing. The verses, though, despite having a similarly almost unintelligible vocal, comes across very much more low key, bringing a bit of a downer every time one comes along. Good intro, downer, improvement in the pre-chorus, great chorus…and then right back down again.

Another thing: it stops too early. I don’t mean that in a time way, because three and a half minutes is plenty long enough for a good track, but structurally. After that second chorus, the downer kicks in again and we’re hopeful this upcoming middle eight will build it up into something magical for the final chorus; instead, nope, that’s it, and you’re left on a downer and, possibly only subconsciously, knowing you’ve been robbed of something to make that go away.

And that’s why it’s not fun.

Calum Scott – Dancing On My Own

“Some songs should be be held on a pedestal, and rendered immune from John Lewis-ification.”

Tim: Thomas. You know very well that (a) Fridays are currently reserved for tropical house and (b) this song is a crime against the entirety of Scandinavia, so you’d better have a good reason for wanting to post this today.

Tom: The first part, I’ll resolve later. The second part… well, our anonymous reader sends this in, saying “a piano-ballad-cover of a Robyn EDM track: What can possibly go wrong”?

Tim: Everything. No, seriously, EVERYTHING.

Tom: Well, for starters, this:

Tim: Most sensible tweet of the year, that.

Tom: He’s got a great voice. I can’t fault that voice. It’s a heck of a performance, perhaps apart from that glottal stop on “better”. And I think there’s a lot of room for interpretations and cover versions of songs, even if “emotional male piano ballad” is a bit overplayed. But the original of this is — let’s be clear here — a BANGER, and just because you’ve lost some of the instrumentation it doesn’t mean it’s necessarily more emotional.

Tim: No; it does, on the other hand, mean it’s necessarily more boring. And you’re right, there is a lot of room for reinterpretations, but some songs should be be held on a pedestal, and rendered immune from John Lewis-ification. Dancing On My Own is one of them.

Tom: And let’s face it, even if I don’t agree with some of the Internet that this cover version is necessarily a crime against music, that hanging, unresolved ending certainly is.

Tim: Yes. So let’s not do the same with this post. Let’s resolve it properly. First, we’ll add a bit of bio by pointing out that the most interesting sentence on Calum Wikipedia page tells us he “won a local competition, Hull Daily Mail’s Star search 2013, after which he joined a Maroon 5 tribute band, called ‘Maroon 4’” and second, realise that that tells us all we need to know about him. And then finish with this.

Tom: And then, let’s finish with this. Because, yes, you could argue that Calum’s cover is unnecessary — but you know what’s definitely unnecessary? Adding beats back in by getting Tiesto to do an uninspired remix of it. If you want a proper comparison, this shows just how much better the original is.

Tim: Oh. Oh, man.

Olly Murs – You Don’t Know Love

“I mean what a track.”

Tim: I’d like to put forth a hypothesis: the quality of Olly’s music is indirectly proportional to the amount of hats he is seen wearing. Earlier tracks, where headwear was in full swing, on occasion left a lot to be desired. Here, on the other hand, there’s a not a trilby in sight and, well.

Tim: I mean what a track.

Tom: That percussion at the start really confused me, and I’ve no idea why: is it slightly offbeat? Overly syncopated? I’ve no idea, but once I got used to it, I quite liked it.

Tim: Making him present X Factor was just cruel to more or less the whole world – he recently said he didn’t enjoy doing it, and the reaction to that from most people was “yeah, but at least you didn’t have to watch it”. This song, though, is so much better for everyone involved, with great melody, passionate vocals, great chorus and a decent dance-pop mix.

Tom: It’s almost a bit Radio 2, isn’t it? It’s certainly on that borderline where your mum might say “Oh, I quite like that when it was on the radio”. It’s certainly aiming more for “playing on every commercial radio station” rather than “played in the clubs”, and if you judge it on that then I guess it’s pretty successful.

Tim: I wouldn’t go that for – I certainly think Radio 2 would have an issue with that distorted vocal thing going on in the intro and background that, six months on, I’ve only just managed to get onboard with. Basically, Olly, please in the future don’t make any more catastrophic errors of judgement.

Tom: I think that’s generally life advice for everyone, Tim.

Saturday Flashback: Chicane – Poppiholla

“No!”

Tom: No!

Tim: YES.

Tom: No. No, no, no.

Tim: Okay, I know, but last week made me think back to this, what with it being a redoing released around the same time. Now, we are all aware of how, well, don’t want to say perfect, but let’s go with iconic, a tune Sigur Rós’s Hoppípolla is (though incidentally, never charted anywhere except the UK, where it only reached number 24).

Tom: Good. I’m glad we’ve established that.

Tim: So what on Earth is a respectable dance act like Chicane of Saltwater and Don’t Give Up fame doing by redoing it?

Tim: Well, aside from doing far better in the charts than the original ever did, and providing a popular launch track for a new Best Of album: basically re-genre-ising it, though that’s probably not an actual phrase. The original was a tad surreal and ethereal – a lovely track, but one used (very well, I should add) on nature documentaries instead of a dancefloor. This, on the other hand – well, it’ll go down well in the clubs because “OH IT’S THAT AMAZING SONG,” and now it has a big beat to it and is very very danceable.

Tom: Hmm. You’re right, of course, and given how much both of us like Almighty Records, I can’t really complain about something like this. It still seems a bit… wrong, though.

Tim: True. But really, it’s obvious. Cheap? Probably. Successful? Oh yes.

The Main Level – A Million More

“Oh, do shit off”

Tim: I’m feeling decidedly pleh at the moment, and so when I pressed play on this video and immediately saw one of them strumming a ukulele my reaction was basically “oh, do shit off”.

Tom: Funnily enough, that was my response to the “you-u-u-u” crooning in the introduction as well.

Tim: Then I remembered that despite my loathing ukuleles do frequently make me feel a bit happier, so…

Tim: Yep. I’m fairly sure I make the same point every time we feature a track with the most rubbish instrument ever to have existed so I won’t wang on about it today, but dammit that, along with the (AAAAARGH HATE IT) whistling, has cheered me up a fair notch.

Tom: I just couldn’t get over that crooning. It sounds like it’s been written by a five-year-old, and sadly unlike your ukulele hating, I can’t overcome it by just being chirpy about it.

Tim: It is a horribly chirpy lovey-dovey sickeningly sweet song; it knows exactly what it wants to do, and pulls it off precisely as it intends to. I hate it and I like it, in roughly equal measures, and while the first of those two thoughts probably isn’t what anyone was wanting, the second: oh, whatever.