Tom: We got very annoyed at Katy B last time for an incredibly dull song. Has she changed?
Tom: Ooh. Well, apparently yes. Once you get used to the drum and bass backing, this track seems to work rather well.
Tim: Hmm. ‘Broken Record’ seems a tad appropriate, though, as it never really goes anywhere. Jumping from moment to moment on the YouTube slider thingy, I really can’t tell when any particular part of the song should be.
Tom: This isn’t a melody-driven track, despite the fact that she can actually sing – this is a good bit of accessible drum and bass with a decent vocal over the top of it. It’s designed to get remixed, to get played in clubs, and to fill the dancefloor when paired with a heavier beat. I think it’ll do very well at that.
Tim: Yes – on that I can agree.
Tom: I’ve got to be honest, though: putting the stress on the wrong syllable in the final part, so it sounds like she’s talking about a broken record button, does really wind me up.
Tom: Last time we heard Mike Posner, we dismissed him with the simple phrase ‘what a dick’. Has he changed since?
Tom: Nope.
Tim: OH GOD THE AUTOTUNE IT’S HORRENDOUS.
Tom: This song’s been around for a while, but it’s now getting a proper UK single release. What an incredible video, by the way – the first time I’ve seen someone use video codec artifacts as a deliberate effect.
Tim: Perhaps an incredible video, but somehow that facial hair manages to appear actually offensive to me.
Tom: Musically, it’s really quite good, even if Chinstrap McPoser does seem to automatically generate a frisson of hatred somewhere deep in my soul. He’s probably quite a nice person, but the character he plays in these videos appears to be a spanner of enormous proportions.
It’s very listenable, although it does seem rather to have gone in one ear and out the other, leaving just a vague sense of ‘that was pleasant enough’ behind it.
Tim: Really, though? For me, the voice is really, really annoying. If I had my way, this song would be one of the type of songs that I normally hate – ones like Eminem & Rihanna or Diddy Dirty Money that have a fantastic chorus totally wasted on a largely crap song. The lengthy ‘go’ and ‘don’t’ at the beginning of the choruses indicate a lot of potential, but it’s just wasted.
Tom: Well, it’s got to be better than ‘Dirty Bit’.
Tom: And indeed it is. Unlike before, when ‘Dirty Bit’ seems completely incongruous with the rest of the song, all this seems to fit together nicely – even the ‘switch up’ bit at the end really works for me.
Tim: Not me – as far as I’m concerned if a phrase like ‘switch up’ appears in anything related to music, it should indicate one thing: key change. And not one that fits in nicely with the tune: one that is entirely gratuitous and would be slammed by every sensible music critic.
Tom: It’s mostly-meaningless, catchy club music, and as long as it’s not pretending to be something greater I’ve got no problem with that.
Tim: Fair point, I suppose, although I must say this is possibly a song that would make me leave the dance floor (and as you know that’s actually fairly heavy criticism from me).
Tom: That video’s also proven something: the rolling shutter problems I complained about months ago have now made it into proper, full-budget videos. Once you see it, you can’t un-see it, and it’s really bugging me that professional producers allow it to hit their videos.
Speaking of which: did they film it in Japan just because they shoehorned the phrases “love you long time” and “Mr Roboto” into the lyrics? I’m not sure what to think of that.
Certainly better than anything we’ve had for the last few years.
Tim: So, now Tom’s back at Europlop Towers and Tim’s calmed down after Friday night, let’s have a proper review of this.
Tim: Well, basically it’s still great. The energy, the commitment to the cause, the modern but still poppy sound, the lyrics that mean something to them as a group: ‘we’re not the first ones to be divided, won’t be the last to be reunited’.
Tom: It is pretty damn good – certainly better than anything we’ve had for the last few years. Unless we’re going to do a Proper Melodifestivalen, this is the best way to pick things for the contest.
Tim: You could be right there. One thing that’s weird, though: the verse is catchier than the chorus. When the bridge ended, I wanted them to come back with a key-changed ‘we’re not the first ones…’ rather than the comparative (but not particularly big) let down of ‘I can, I will…’
Tom: That’s true. Now, the big question: do I think it’s a Eurovision winner? No – despite everything, it’s more likely to be a mid-European entry that takes it, with support from across the continent. But I think it’s a Eurovision top contender, and I think they’ll be able to walk away from the contest with their heads held high.
Tim: I just hope it’ll do well enough to get people to drop all the ‘we’ll never do well because everybody hates us’ bull that the whiners put out there every year. Anyway, final thought and image to leave you with: whenever Lee Ryan goes into backing singer mode he sounds (and looks) like he’s straining to get out a massive poo.
Everyone’s favourite purveyor of leprechaun-like swaggering cockery is back.
Tom: Everyone’s favourite purveyor of leprechaun-like swaggering cockery is back. This time, though, he’s swapped the hat for a sweater from Steve Jobs, an apartment from IKEA and an attempt at emotion.
Tom: Oh, and he’s ripped off most of his verse melody from Radiohead’s “High and Dry”. Did you think we wouldn’t notice, Murs? Because I’m noticing. Every bloody verse, I’m noticing.
Tim: I have not heard that song; I do not intend to hear it because even with an Olly Murs track I’m not looking for reasons to dislike it.
Tom: Okay. Let’s try and get over our inbuilt anti-Murs prejudice and evaluate the song. It’s actually not that bad, once you get over the Radiohead thing. He can sing, that’s for sure; and as a heartfelt ballad it’s actually pretty good.
It features what I can only describe as a Proper Bridge: a complete change in chord progression, then into a quiet bit, and then into a suitably emotional final chorus.
Tim: Annoyingly, I have to say: I like this. The bending over in the video at about 2:17 annoys me, but that’s when any singers do it – I know it’s meant to help get the notes out better, but to me it kind of looks like they’re vomiting up the music. That aside, though, I have to admit I think it’s alright.
Tom: Is it enough to redeem Murs? For me, not quite. But that’s because I like “High and Dry”.
Tom: Last time we talked about them, McFly had gone all Taio Cruz. Well, now they’ve… they’ve gone all JLS.
Tom: Damn it, McFly, I know you wanted to go in a new direction, but did it have to be such a terribly generic one?
I can’t fault the song, really – it’s lovely, and if it were any other band I’d probably like it, but I can’t help feeling that McFly have done so much better in the past. If it wasn’t for Tom McFly’s distinctive voice* then this could be the Wanted, or hell, even the Backstreet Boys.
*Yes, I know their names. Deal with it.
Tim: Could it, though? Well, probably, but it doesn’t seem any more generic than All About You or Five Colours In Her Hair, say. It’s not quite as good as most of their others – you’re right that it’s a nice tune, but there’s nothing hugely memorable about it, and it’s not going to be a massive Stargirl crowd pleaser – but I don’t think overly generic’s a particularly fair criticism.
Tom: Also, what’s with the Olly Murs hat, Tom McFly? It does make you look like a bit of a prat.
Tim: I really really like this – pretty much Sunrise Avenue one-track repeat all day levels of like, in fact. This tune, from two Swedish chaps, seems to me like a tune it’s impossible to dislike, and not because it’s just a fairly boring one that doesn’t do anything special or interesting at all, because it does.
Tom: It’s got a long build before it kicks in, but it’s worth it. It’s like the musical equivalent of honey: notes seem to slide slowly over each other. I think I just beat our record for “worst simile”.
Tim: Strangest, perhaps, but not worst – I know exactly what you mean and it does describe it quite well. It’s sort of mystical in parts, which I think is lovely – the video as well is great, it’s a bit woo-oo-oh.
Tom: In the wide, fuzzy shots, I can’t help but think that the lead singer does look a bit like Abed from the NBC sitcom Community – it’s the lankiness and the hair – which means I can’t really take it seriously. Can’t deny it’s a good song, though; very listenable.
Tim: It’s a song that sort of carries you along, almost bouncing gently on a cloud of…um…cloudy stuff. You know, it seems hard to describe this song without coming across as though I’m on drugs. Just…oh, I don’t know. It’s great. I can’t describe exactly why it’s great, but it is.
What a voice! That’s a voice that removes clothing. Er, in a good way.
Tim: Finnish, these chaps are. Don’t bother listening to the lyrics here – just hear the sounds.
Tom: What a voice! That’s a voice that removes clothing. Er, in a good way.
Tim: Right. Now the first time I listened to this, I didn’t really pay much attention to the lyrics or anything either, but just the music. I was left with an impression of it being a fairly dark tune, nice music, big energetic instrumentation – generally all the things that make a song good.
Tom: It really is quite something. This is a soul-stirrer: it’s the chord progression and deep vocals that make it work.
Tim: Then I looked up the lyrics and listened to it properly – go on, do it now – and discovered that this song is bloody amazing. It’s a farewell song with so much energy that really, really shouldn’t belong there, and yet it fits perfectly.
There’s a sense of ‘it was great’, but the slightly contrasting ‘I have to go, I’ve got no choice’ almost takes that away again. It should be a depressing song, and the vocals kind of add to that, but then the music jumps in as well and makes it uplifting, and a song you really want to sing along to.
Tom: It’s the kind of song that leaves you with a smile on your face – and you’ve no idea why.
Tim: Not much to say about the video, although I absolutely love the fifteen seconds or so just after 40 seconds in when the band’s waking up – it makes the building instrumentation all the more effective, and when it finally comes together it’s just YEAH!
Tom: The clock in the background is at a very different time each time it’s in shot. Yes, I notice these things. Ah well.
Tim: Me too – and given that there a quite a few close up clock shots, part of me wants there to be a really obscure hidden meaning, since the alternative is them screwing up. OOH, maybe it’s like The Da Vinci Code! Oh, God, shoot me now. Another thing about the video, though, is that the ending doesn’t seem quite as weird any more – I didn’t like it at first, but now it seems like a closure type thing, which is pleasant.
Tom: Otherwise known as ‘the quiet bit that the radio DJ talks over’.
Tim: We’ve covered Hurts a few times here, and that’s because they’re bloody brilliant – the only reason we didn’t get round to looking at the amazing Stay back in October was because we were too busy being annoyed by Cheryl Cole. Their new track, Sunday, was released yesterday (see what they did there?), and guess what? Yes – it’s a bit good.
Tom: When all I heard was the first verse, it didn’t work for me at all. That bassline didn’t seem to fit at all, and it even set me on edge just a little. But the first chorus made me stop and reconsider, and from there it just keeps getting better; after the second chorus it’s all brilliant.
Tim: The video’s all sorts of weird, mind, but as for the song itself, there’s not much to fault, really. Not so keen on the quiet bit in the middle, but the sheer enthusiasm of the music in the chorus and at the end more than makes up for that – despite the theme of the song being ‘you’ve gone. I’m so lonely’, it’s the sort of music that appears at the end of romantic comedies, as the bloke runs towards the girls in the airport as they finally realise they both love each other.
Tom: It’s got that Hurts trademark style of being a very upbeat-sounding song with downbeat lyrics. Few songs have that dissonance – even fewer can pull it off. Well done, Hurts.
Tom: How can she do it? This is Pink, the same Pink who recently charted with the laughing party-song irritating-vocal-interruption-filled Raise Your Glass. And now she’s released a song that’s going to make a generation of misunderstood teenagers cry.
Genuine warning here: this is the uncensored video, which includes sex and some fairly brutal images of self-harm. Any of our readers who’ve been through similar things may not want them brought back into their memory – which does question if showing them, and almost glamorising them, in a pop video is really the right thing to do.
Tom: With all that said: what a track. And what a video.
Tim: Indeed. And you think it’s glamorising it? The whole message of the song is don’t do this – you’re perfect, so ignore the people that make you feel otherwise. “Done looking for the critics, cause they’re everywhere…why do we do that?” The whole song is a powerful spirit-lifter – you should listen to it when you’re feeling shit.
Tom: As for the music: the only thing that I don’t like in here is the ‘pretty pretty please’ bit, but I can’t really ding it any points just because a few words annoy me. It’s very much a Song With A Message, and a fairly simple one at that, which normally would cause all the cynical parts of my brain to rise up in disgust… but somehow that didn’t happen.
Tim: It’s because it’s not just a Song With A Message that anyone can do – there’s a real feeling that here, it’s personal, it’s coming from inside Pink herself, and that makes it so much more powerful that it otherwise would be.
Tom: And I think it’s because, hell, it’s Pink – and she has that amazing voice that can go between ‘loud and anthemic’ and ‘deep and emotional’ in a split second. This might well be her new concert-ender. It deserves to be.
