Tim: Don’t know if you remember the Norwegian Eurovision entry, but it’s been remixed, and I believe you may enjoy it.
Tom: Your belief is CORRECT. It’s as if Dario G remixed Josh Groban, and added three key changes, and I thoroughly APPROVE.
Tim: Which is strange, because the original when he sang it sounded great on its own.
Tom: Two key changes though. I’m not complaining, but it does crank the melodrama up to 11. The later key change is telegraphed properly, as all overblown key changes should be, but earlier it’s almost like the guy on the keyboards hit the wrong chord, and everyone else was just “okay, we’ll go with that.”
Oh, a classic. I bought this when it came out. Is that something to be ashamed of?
Tim: Oh, a classic. I bought this when it came out. Is that something to be ashamed of?
Tom: I think you were probably just stunned by it all. I mean, this is Status Quo. Okay, I can see them allowing the sampling – but also turning up for the video, which is basically “Walk This Way” only featuring people without a septum?
Also, Scooter have been going for decades now. How on earth does their lead sing… er, lead talking guy… look like he’s still in his twenties?
Tim: This is Scooter – it’s only now you’re asking about some sort of supernatural weirdness?
Tom: Fair point. I do love how they got to number 1 in the UK – the new album came with a “bonus disc” which was basically a greatest hits compilation.
Tim: The strange thing about this is that until about thirty seconds before the end, it sounds like two different songs cut up together with no interaction.
Tom: I hadn’t noticed that! You’re exactly right. That explains the end of the video though – it’s only when the hammer slams through the wall that the two songs actually combine.
Tim: Some sort of depth from Scooter. This is officially very odd.
The lead singer’s wearing a lab coat in the video?
Tim: Swedish band, had a vague hit in the dance area over here a few years back with ‘Temple of Love‘.
Tom: So the lead singer’s wearing a lab coat in the video, and the album’s called “Big Science”? That sounds promising.
Tim: Yes, and for the most part it’s bloody awesome. And regarding the lead singer: he’s off of Sweden’s Popstars.
Tom:I’m actually finding very little wrong with this. Bit of a clichéd “talky bit in the middle before the bridge”, but it’s made up for by BEARDED BACKING SINGER.
Tim: Doesn’t he look absolutely terrifying? It’s amazing.
Tom: It’s even got a dum-dee-dee-da at the end! Hear this, Robyn? THIS is how “Dancing On My Own” should have been. It’s a textbook Swedish pop song, but there’s nothing wrong with that. It’s not going to be stuck in my head or anything, but I’d be happy with this popping up on shuffle.
Tim: As an aside, that whole album‘s pretty good if you want to check it out at some point.
Tim: Just played them chorus after chorus, and yes, I concede a similarity. Not so much that it’s the same song, though, but yes there is quite a resemblance. The one thing that does really annoy me about the album, though, is the massive similarity between Singing in my Car and Kings of Tomorrow.
“It’s stuck in my head, and I think it sounds like a CBBC theme tune.”
Tom: Here’s an odd one for you. This is a 2008 cover of U96’s 1991 hit Das Boot – which was itself a reworking of the theme from the 1981 German submarine movie. I bring this to you for two reasons: one, because it’s stuck in my head, and two, because I think it sounds startlingly like the theme tune from CBBC’s Incredible Games and I want to know that I’m not crazy.
Tim: Don’t worry, you’re not crazy – they do sound quite similar. Dance remixes of movie themes are tricky things, and I sometimes get a bit nervous before listening to them. When they’re done right, and convey the same tone as the original piece, they can be brilliant (see Tiësto’s Pirates, DJ Sakin’s Braveheart, Airbase’s The Rock).
Tom: You’re right about all those except Tiesto’s Pirates, where all he’s done is create an entirely new song and then jam a messed-up version of He’s A Pirate in there somewhere. The great thing about all those tracks, though, is that if you don’t like one particular mix – the vocals in Sakin’s Braveheart really annoy me, for example – there’ll be another one along in a minute.
Tim: On the other hand (which is, unfortunately, a much larger hand), they can be absolutely horrendous. One example is DJ Stef’s version of Titanic, where the guy shouting ‘Freeze’ as a vocal really doesn’t help.
Tom: You know, it used to be that aspiring dance producers (or, in other words, “teenage kids on their parents’ computer with a pirated copy of FruityLoops”) had to go out of their house with a CD, attract the attention of a DJ, prove they were half-decent, and steadily work their way up the ranks. Now all they have to do is pick a vaguely popular song, remix it badly, quickly jam a video together, lob it up onto YouTube where it’ll be played in low-bitrate mono to most users, and presto: half a million listeners.
Damn kids. Get off my lawn.
Tim: Das Boot 2008, I think, belongs nicely in the first group, although I don’t get the counting to ten bit. U96’s had ‘one, two, three, techno’, which made a vague sort of sense (I’d have preferred ‘eins, zwei, drei’ but that’s just me), whereas this just counts to ten and then… nothing. Come to think of it, it’s a bloody odd cover – aside from the same source material, they’re quite different. The U96 version is much darker, even though that’s a weird way to describe a dance tune, what with all the clanking noises*, and it has far more vocal. If Guenta K. hadn’t used the small amount of vocal that he did, it would just be another redoing of the theme music, focusing almost exclusively on just the bit of the theme that people know with just enough background variation to keep it interesting, and it would probably be better for it.
* I am well aware that this is an appalling word to use to describe it, but I honestly can’t really think of a better one, and I think it describes it well enough for you to know what I mean.
Tim: This really, really, really should have been Sweden’s entry to Eurovision 2010.
Tom: It’s Womanizer by Britney Spears, isn’t it? When he started his vocals, I muttered “Superstar, where you from, how’s it going”. Decent choreography though, although he seems to forget where the audience is half way through.
Tim: Perhaps, but this is Melodifestivalen, Sweden’s (vastly superior) version of Your Country Needs You, so he just needs to remember where the camera is. Also, you need to wait ’til after the key change before you can properly judge the dancing.
Tim: Apparently, ‘everybody does fire’ and it’s quite boring.
Tom: He’s got a point there. You know what else no-one’s doing? Raccoons. No-one ever unleashes a hundred ravenous raccoons to attack the singer on the key change.
Tim: True, although raccoons would probably poo everywhere. Just not practical.
Tom: Neither’s rigging up a power shower above the stage, but they manage that.
Tim: Ah, but he practically had to beg them to. (Really, he did.) He probably wouldn’t have been so enthusiastic about unleashing rabid animals to munch on him.
Tom: Not sure about these lyrics either. “You can call me manboy” sounds like an odd way of saying “I have learning difficulties”. Can I do that joke?
Tim: Yeah, why not.
You can call me manboy,
I don’t care, I’ll show you how to love.
I’m not an expert, but I’d guess most women would prefer ‘man’ over ‘boy’. There’s not a whole lot of ‘showing how to love’ when your entire experience of love is the Victoria’s Secret catalogue. Or, if you weren’t born in an 80s sitcom, the internet.
Tim: Well I think that’s it. He pretty much is only a boy (19), so he wants the man to shine though. And, after all, what better way is there to prove manliness than stand in the pouring rain?