Tom: Add some sleigh bells, this could be a Christmas song.
Tim: What with the twinklyness and things at the start, the mystic vocal and gentle beats mushing up together, it may remind you of The Sound of Arrows, which hugely surprising, as they produced it. But ignoring that—well, actually, I almost can’t. It’s annoying, because their other stuff is brilliant, but whenever I hear this I think, ‘it’s not quite as good as Nova was.’
Tom: If you’re in the mood for some calm electronic pop, this’ll probably do the trick. Yes, there’s better out there, but this is pretty high up the list. I think you’re being too harsh.
Tim: I probably am, yes – it’s nice enough on its own, and objectively it’s great as dreamy synth-pop goes. It’s just…not as great as I know it can be.
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.
Tim: Anything you want to say before we start this?
Tom: I’ll get my favourite Murs-describing phrase out of the way at the start of this particular post: “swaggering leprechaun cockery”.
Tim: And there it is.
Tom: In fact, I’d advise you not to watch the video. Because as with pretty much all of his singles, it’s a good song. Catchy, danceable, sticky enough to get into your head but not enough to become irritating. It’s really a lovely bit of pop music.
Tim: Agreed – I think it’s great.
Tom: The lyrics don’t actually make sense, do they? “You’ve got me dreaming of a life that anybody else would die for.” That’s the key line from the chorus. And it means… what?
Tim: Erm – maybe that while it’s a life most people really really really want, he only really really wants it and isn’t quite prepared to go to such extremes. That covers it, I think? But you’re right, it doesn’t make all that much sense, especially when he’s talking about how much he wants someone.
Tom: And then there’s the video, in which he makes a prat of himself in a public place and seems to look smug about it. Par for the course.
Tim: I don’t know – here I’m going to be a Murs apologist and say that I think you’re being too harsh.
Tom: That’s a change of direction for you. What’s brought this on?
Tim: After all, making a prat of yourself in a public place is (a) what I did recently, also involving an escalator
Tom: Heh. It was the way it gracefully delivered you to its exit point after you fell over that made me laugh.
Tim: … (b) par for the course with any song about how someone makes the singer crazy, not just Olly, and (c) it fits perfectly with the lyric “I’m going too fast, heart first, my head just can’t slow me down”. I like the video, especially his apparent look of amazement 26 seconds in at the fact that something as big as this shopping centre actually exists.
Tom: Have you been to that new one out near the Olympic Park? Seriously, it’s massive.
Tim: It is. Better not take Olly there, or his eyes might pop out.
“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.
Tim: This is pretty much played non-stop in the Radio 1 offices, apparently, to the joy of some and the annoyance of many. The video, meanwhile, features her being unbelievably shallow and desperate. Fancy a listen?
Tom: Shallow and desperate. There’s a number of jokes I could make there, but I’ll pass.
Tim: The music here is good – very good, in fact, as far as pop music goes, so we needn’t really discuss that, unless you disagree?
Tom: I will say this: I can see why it might be annoying. I can about handle it, but cheery, cheesy, repetitive choruses like that could well start to grate. If I was in a bad mood right now, I’d want this turned the hell off right now. Fortunately, I’m in a good mood, so I like it.
Tim: Excellent. The video it is, then.
The lyrics of the song – I just met you, this is crazy, here’s my number, call me maybe – sort of imply that she feels a hidden connection or something. The video, on the other hand, makes it abundantly clear that she’s thinking “sod any hidden connection rubbish, I want to feel what’s in his pants”.
And you know what I think (apart from what you’re about to say)?
Tom: That’s generally your approach to pulling someone, too?
Tim: Like I said, apart from that. I think, who cares? Because let’s be honest, we don’t get many songs these days that are just “You’re fit, let’s do it” – it’s all about meeting people properly, and getting to know them, and being romantic and all that rubbish. This is much more direct. I like it.
Tom: I’m going to take this opportunity to link to the wonderful “Shut Up And Sleep With Me“, which takes that to pretty much its logical conclusion.
Tim: Another thing I like: the video’s funny. Maybe it’s partly because that with her looks and what’s going on this could easily be a New Girl storyline, but the ending’s good, her increasingly desperate attempts to grab his attention made me smile, and her falling off the car is just fantastic. That’s not normal in a music video, but it should be. Maybe.
Finally, though, I’m disappointed they just had a keyboard for the strings, rather than actual violinists in that garage. That is my only complaint about this song.
Tom: That’s all you want these days, Tim. Sex and violins.
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.
Tim: This year, Melodifestivalen had two metal entrants. There was Dynazty with Land of Broken Dreams, which was to all intents and purposes a schlager song dressed up with heavy instruments. Very much worth a listen, but for a review you can pretty much head back to last year’s review of Nicke Borg, because it fulfils a fairly similar role – a song that’ll appeal to mainstream people and will be described by the fans as ‘selling out’, and as far as I’m concerned is very enjoyable.
Then there’s this.
Tom: Sure, keep the drummer in a metal cage. Just in case he’s a bit too visible.
Tim: Well, this is about the singers. We don’t want the instrument players getting aspirations above their stations now, do we?
Tim: This song was in the first heat, and (possibly due to the low quality of that week) got further in the competition than Dynazty did, which I think is a shame as I enjoyed that track a lot. This, I’m not sure about. The unintelligible screaming, I hate. I can’t wait for it to finish every time it starts and I wish I could get rid of the bloke in the baseball cap entirely.
Tom: Ah, but that’s how you do “Proper Metal Vocals”, isn’t it? Growl unintelligible vocals from your diaphragm.
Tim: It is, yes – but the other singing, though? I think it’s great. You can hear the key change coming a mile off, for starters, and that’s often an indication of great pop, which the decent stuff actually is – change the backing and it could be sung by any Charlotte Perrelli or Linda Bengtzing who cares to jump up on stage, really.
Tom: Which means it sits in an uncomfortable position – not a schlager song, not really a metal song. I’m surprised it got as far as it did – it’s not Lordi, after all.
Tim: Well, if you did replace it with a female singer and kept the screamy bit, you’d end up with something not unlike the closing part of the Casablanca/Malena Ernman collaboration from two years ago, which actually ended up being pretty brilliant, so that might explain it.
Tom: Casablanca’s lead singer isn’t metal-screaming there, though; it’s not that death-growl. That death-growl’s an acquired taste: for every person who goes ‘yes, proper metal in Eurovision!’ there’ll be two who go ‘ooh what’s wrong with his voice?’
I don’t know why we’ve not featured Adrian Lux here before.
Tom: Ooh. Basshunter cover? No. Not a Basshunter cover.
Tim: I don’t know why we’ve not featured Adrian Lux here before – he’s a Swedish bloke who puts out some cracking dance tracks every now and again. Take this, for example, his current track.
Tom: Ooh, it’s like the Killers went all dance-y. Well, more dance-y. Less human, anyway.
Tim: This is actually what I’d have liked the new Swedish House Mafia track to be like. Not only does it have a great dance melody to it (which appears early on rather than thirty seconds before the end), but it has decent vocals to it as well, with a good chorus tune to get going to.
Tom: The dark, growing voice means it’s probably not going to be a massively commercial club hit – but it’ll be appreciated by those who do hear it.
Tim: Yes, and it’s not an anthem anyone would be singing along to, but it does give it that little bit extra that helps people think ‘Oh yeah, I liked that one’, which can only be a good thing.
A healthy dollop of autotune and plenty of woah-oh-oohs.
Tim: This came out at the end of last year and we missed it, but it’s got a video now so there’s an excuse to discuss it. Although actually, I’m not going to put the video here, because (a) it features him looking like a pillock and (b) it’s far too downbeat for a day like today.
Tom: I should point out: we wrote this during that recent period of glorious sunshine. If it’s ended by the time you read this, I can only apologise for being so chipper.
Tim: Fairly good vocal dance track here, with a healthy Taio Cruz-sized dollop of autotune and plenty of woah-oh-oohs to get everybody pumping.
Tom: Pumping?
Tim: Oh, I don’t know, it’s written now.
It’s pretty much everything you need to put into a dance track to get it played on an average night out in The Club, as it were.
Tom: And I’m fairly sure all of those things are “inspired” by other, similar dance tracks – it’s almost like someone’s amalgamated everything on one of the big “euphoric dance” compilation CDs into one track.
Tim: Yes, so quite why it was released in December is a bit of a mystery, and a shame because it almost deserves to do well. Still, it’ll probably feature on a couple of end-of-year compilations, and maybe he’s saving up a proper BANGER for later in the year. Let’s wait and see.
Tom: To be fair, this is pretty close to having BANGER status anyway. If he can beat it, I’m looking forward to it.
