I haven't reviewed any awful singles for ages...
Tinie Tempah featuring Labrinth - Frisky (Parlophone)
Now heres a thing; this sounds exactly like Tinie Tempah's last record, right down to the drum and bass bit at the end. If you liked the Pass Out, you'll like this as well. And you'll have a mental age of two to still be impressed by raps which are a charicature of any substance.
David Guetta, Chris Willis, Fergie and LMFAO - Gettin' Over You (Positiva / Virgin)
Guetta's work of late has been patchy and there is little doubt the guy is spreading himself too thinly, but this reworked gem from last years One Love album has been given a bit of an ADHD remix to make it appeal to daytime radio. Chris Willis' vocals are utterly brilliant as always.
Eminem - Not Afraid (Interscope)
Better than lead single from his previous album Crack A Bottle, but it still feels like Marshall is wallowing in a whole swamp of self pity. Obviously he needs to escape from everything to get some fresh inspiration, because theres nothing here to hold a candle to his earlier work.
Jason Derulo - Ridin' Solo (Warners)
Iyaz - Solo (Reprise)
Two reviews for the price of one here. Two JR Rotem songs, probably written concurrently. Iyaz whines tunelessly about not wanting to be S. O. L. O. whereas Derulo is delighted to be Ridin' Solo, which to me sounds like a song all about masturbation. Derulo's is the more listenable and inventive of the two, but they're both caked in enough autotune to sort out a Girls Aloud album.
Alicia Keys - Try Sleeping With A Broken Heart (J)
Try listening with bleeding ears.
Pixie Lott - Turn It Up (Mercury)
Turn it off. Alright, i'll elaborate; Pixie is busy telling her current squeeze that its over during the verses, then inexplicably heads off into a chorus of "Turn it up, Turn it up". Utter shit from a nasty production line in a country with a dreadful human rights record. Soulless.
Aggro Santos featuring Kimberly Wyatt (Future)
Now for the nastiest record around at the moment. Take a Kesha-esque bleepy background, add one Pussycat Doll to sing the chorus and then taken the rather vile Mr Santos to start rapping about how he expects girls to dance for him whilst he shouts "You, you, you, yeah, you!" at them. Forget the Labour leadership contest being a damning indictment of women's rights, look no further than this crap and the sort of morons who buy it.
Rhianna - Te Amo (Def Jam)
Current album Rated R must be a real heap judging by the singles being released. First we get the pathetic Chris Brown baiting dirge Russian Roulette, then the filthy Rude Boy where the double entendre is about as cloaked as a naked rambler and now this tedious ballad where her nasty nasal vocals sound even more whiny than normal.
Lady Gaga - Alejandro (Interscope)
Talking of barrel scraping from dubious albums... This is the fifty eighth single from The Fame and its various Monster and Remix reincarnations. Its a boring ballad. Scott Mills actually reviewed it better than i possibly could - "If this was by Emma Bunton, you wouldn't care".
Terry Venables - If I Can Dream (Sony)
Best of the sparse collection of football singles around this year. Venables properly belts out this rousing anthem backed by a substantial orchestral arrangement.
Squad - Three Lions 2010 (Parlophone)
Jesus. Who decided there should be an awful cover version of Three Lions, with terrible sound effects and an inexplicable opera singer?
Train - Hey Soul Sister (Columbia)
Now here is 2010's most unexpected comeback. Train (who recorded the similarly slow-burning mainstay of daytime radio Drops of Jupiter in 2001) rely heavily on a ukelele to record this inoffensive, but lively track which builds nicely into the sort of pop song that American bands used to make for a pastime. It makes a really nice break from the over-produced and contentless gunk that tends to come from across the Atlantic at the moment.
Pretty Reckless - Makes Me Wanna Die (Interscope)
This boring fake emo record is made by a band whose lineup keeps changing except for their model frontwoman, which pretty much tells you all you need to know. Its very plastic and about as deep as a puddle.
Kelis - Acapella (Interscope)
Now this is a first - a Kelis record that i actually like. The latest incarnation of pop butterfly Kelis is a much more dancier and European-sounding than previously, having left behind the gimmicky and often formless output that she has produced in the past. Unsurprisingly, David Guetta was behind the production, but that production allows the vocals to shine really beautifully.
Kelly Rowlands featuring David Guetta - Commander (Universal)
If i was Guetta, i'd take my name off this project as it is proof he is overstretched at the moment. Think of all the abysmal songs made by American R&B artists about how much they love clubbing. This is worse. Its even worse than Play by Jennifer Lopez. It has no substance at all.
The Black Eyed Peas - Imma Be (Interscope)
Utter bollocks. Most of it is just Will.i.am repeating over and over "Amma be". Pointless drivel.
Robyn - Dancing On My Own (Konichiwa)
Robyn's ability to make modern pop music sound effortless is quite something. Whilst not sounding like anything else on her previous album, this feels familiar and is instantly recognisable both musically and vocally as Robyn's work. Its got more hooks in one song than most of the rest of the top ten put togehter.
Tuesday 15 June 2010
Wednesday 9 June 2010
Tweedledum, Tweedledee and Tweedletwat
Yay. Big Brother 11. More people to make snap judgements upon!
Josie.
Oh joy, a rural Bristolian airhead. And if she's 25, i'm a member of Die Aertze.
Steve.
The ex-Army cripple. Who has eight children. Obviously that didn't get blown up. Do we need another token disabled winner? Perhaps a close view of a British Hero (phrase copyright Murdoch Media) might help dispell the blind worship that our flawed armed forces get.
Ad break. Featuring a car you can't buy.
Ben.
Looks like he's made of plastic. I suspect he's had some work done. Looks like he'd get murdered if he spent twenty minutes in Hartcliffe. Utter cock, the type Jarvis Cocker sang about.
Rachael.
The sort of woman who can be found falling out of any city centre bar in the small hours of Saturday morning. Self obsessed and unable to fully dress herself.
Nathan.
Looks a bit like Robson Green crossed with a Gallagher brother. Loves himself but actually appears to have some practical talent.
Ad break. Crap perfume, crappier celeb magazines and a mobile network nobody subscribes to.
Dave.
Hey hey, its a monk. He leads a religion which praises Christ by being pissed.
Caiomhe.
Come on, thats never a name. Surely she should be auditioning for Bromsgrove's Next Top Model rather than BB? Rebel without a clue.
Govan.
By looks, its the new Science! When he speaks, he's camper than a row of pink tents! Shame he's named after part of Glasgow, but pronounces it incorrectly.
Ad break. Steve Merchant attempts to sell me moneys. Weak film trail. Electronics. Antihystamines. And the fucking Crapple GashPad.
Shabby.
Now that really is not your name. I guarantee it doesn't say that on your birth certificate. Squatter art college twat. Get a fucking job and pay your way in society. I resent subsidising your existence if you're not going to do anything to enrich the world.
Ife.
Pronounced Iffy Cookoo. Sums it up really. Is a very successful dancer who clearly doesn't need more media exposure. How about some normal people instead of the last two stage school dropouts?
John.
Aussie who seems convinced that Britain is some strange new world and he's come to conquer the inept inhabitants. Like Mars or something.
Sunshine.
For fucks sake. Does anybody on this show have a sensible name?!? If she was trying to perform any kind of medical task on me, i'd ask for another doctor. I also couldn't trust anyone who willingly gave themself such a dumb name.
Corin.
Nice Germanic name, although spelt wrongly. Horrible plastic Jordan-alike face. Please can we have some vaguely normal people?
Ad Break. Didn't see what was being whored. Needed a piss.
Housemate Tombola feature. Nice idea. I suspect the random will have the best chance of winning. And the winner is...
Mario.
...is the Mole. Just like on Channel Five. With Glenn Hughill.
Another Ad Break. Smell like Fergie. Build a shed. Get drunk. Eat Cereal. Do Banking. Get drunk again. Eat biscuits.
And so, in conclusion: a couple of fairly normal gents and a lot of very extreme and freakish women. Can't we handle sensible, grounded women on reality TV or something?
Josie.
Oh joy, a rural Bristolian airhead. And if she's 25, i'm a member of Die Aertze.
Steve.
The ex-Army cripple. Who has eight children. Obviously that didn't get blown up. Do we need another token disabled winner? Perhaps a close view of a British Hero (phrase copyright Murdoch Media) might help dispell the blind worship that our flawed armed forces get.
Ad break. Featuring a car you can't buy.
Ben.
Looks like he's made of plastic. I suspect he's had some work done. Looks like he'd get murdered if he spent twenty minutes in Hartcliffe. Utter cock, the type Jarvis Cocker sang about.
Rachael.
The sort of woman who can be found falling out of any city centre bar in the small hours of Saturday morning. Self obsessed and unable to fully dress herself.
Nathan.
Looks a bit like Robson Green crossed with a Gallagher brother. Loves himself but actually appears to have some practical talent.
Ad break. Crap perfume, crappier celeb magazines and a mobile network nobody subscribes to.
Dave.
Hey hey, its a monk. He leads a religion which praises Christ by being pissed.
Caiomhe.
Come on, thats never a name. Surely she should be auditioning for Bromsgrove's Next Top Model rather than BB? Rebel without a clue.
Govan.
By looks, its the new Science! When he speaks, he's camper than a row of pink tents! Shame he's named after part of Glasgow, but pronounces it incorrectly.
Ad break. Steve Merchant attempts to sell me moneys. Weak film trail. Electronics. Antihystamines. And the fucking Crapple GashPad.
Shabby.
Now that really is not your name. I guarantee it doesn't say that on your birth certificate. Squatter art college twat. Get a fucking job and pay your way in society. I resent subsidising your existence if you're not going to do anything to enrich the world.
Ife.
Pronounced Iffy Cookoo. Sums it up really. Is a very successful dancer who clearly doesn't need more media exposure. How about some normal people instead of the last two stage school dropouts?
John.
Aussie who seems convinced that Britain is some strange new world and he's come to conquer the inept inhabitants. Like Mars or something.
Sunshine.
For fucks sake. Does anybody on this show have a sensible name?!? If she was trying to perform any kind of medical task on me, i'd ask for another doctor. I also couldn't trust anyone who willingly gave themself such a dumb name.
Corin.
Nice Germanic name, although spelt wrongly. Horrible plastic Jordan-alike face. Please can we have some vaguely normal people?
Ad Break. Didn't see what was being whored. Needed a piss.
Housemate Tombola feature. Nice idea. I suspect the random will have the best chance of winning. And the winner is...
Mario.
...is the Mole. Just like on Channel Five. With Glenn Hughill.
Another Ad Break. Smell like Fergie. Build a shed. Get drunk. Eat Cereal. Do Banking. Get drunk again. Eat biscuits.
And so, in conclusion: a couple of fairly normal gents and a lot of very extreme and freakish women. Can't we handle sensible, grounded women on reality TV or something?
Monday 7 June 2010
The Horror of Aspiration
Apparently Apple have just launched some new gadget for idiots. Tablet computers (which have been around for over a decade) are the new hot shit on the block and as always, Apple have to rebrand them for a market ready to wet itself with excitement at something glossy. The media have widely reported the major shortcomings in the device itself (inability to multi-task, no support for Flash, fragile touch screen that will look awful after three months) and as always all the content available to the device is tied in to Apple's cash whore vending machine iTunes, but for a change, something else is irritating me...
You see, regularly spending a lot of my time in a major city centre is something which is becoming a more regular occurrence for me and the marketing campaign for the iPad has reached saturation. You can't pass a bus shelter without seeing some tedious activity being pictured, accompanied by some legs (in the obligatorily trendy Gap trousers or leggings) and feet (again, fashionable but bland ballet pumps or shitty daps you'd have laughed at eight years ago). One of these adverts in particular has jumped out at me - it contains a collection of photo albums with painfully aspirational covers - New York, Woodland Walk, Skiing, The Dog, yadda yadda. The pictures featured on the covers of these albums mostly feature children (presumably intended to be those of the user, and all painfully cutesy), with some featuring landmarks or landscapes. None of them feature the apparent user of the iPad. Perhaps they hate themselves too much for being sucked in by vacuous marketing.
So what conclusions can we draw from these observations? The Apple sanctioned, ideal iPad user is somebody who wears bland fashions, has a comfortable home life, takes lots of holidays and is probably spiritually completely unfulfilled and left empty by their existence. Meanwhile, i'm sat here writing this on my Samsung netbook which cost me about half of what an iPad would and does considerably more with no discernable disadvantage, but i'm obviously not aspirational enough to own one.
You see, regularly spending a lot of my time in a major city centre is something which is becoming a more regular occurrence for me and the marketing campaign for the iPad has reached saturation. You can't pass a bus shelter without seeing some tedious activity being pictured, accompanied by some legs (in the obligatorily trendy Gap trousers or leggings) and feet (again, fashionable but bland ballet pumps or shitty daps you'd have laughed at eight years ago). One of these adverts in particular has jumped out at me - it contains a collection of photo albums with painfully aspirational covers - New York, Woodland Walk, Skiing, The Dog, yadda yadda. The pictures featured on the covers of these albums mostly feature children (presumably intended to be those of the user, and all painfully cutesy), with some featuring landmarks or landscapes. None of them feature the apparent user of the iPad. Perhaps they hate themselves too much for being sucked in by vacuous marketing.
So what conclusions can we draw from these observations? The Apple sanctioned, ideal iPad user is somebody who wears bland fashions, has a comfortable home life, takes lots of holidays and is probably spiritually completely unfulfilled and left empty by their existence. Meanwhile, i'm sat here writing this on my Samsung netbook which cost me about half of what an iPad would and does considerably more with no discernable disadvantage, but i'm obviously not aspirational enough to own one.
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