Tim: Glorious Pop Middle Eights is an interesting theme for a playlist, but alas we are not privy to the whims and workings of the Apple Music people who served it up to me; nevertheless, this song was on there and I was reminded how flipping brilliant it is.
Tom: That… was there a middle eight in there? Because that doesn’t deserve to be on that playlist.
Tim: No, and to be honest, a lot of them don’t – certainly not when compared to some we’ve seen, but regardless of that: well, this is flipping brilliant, all of it.
Tom: You really think so? It left me cold: it’s a bog-standard indie-pop track, with not much to recommend it.
Tim: Oh, really? It’s just got so much to it – I think it’s almost the pitch of the lyrics more than anything. He’s got Donkeyboy style vocals going on, but with so much more joy to them.
Admittedly I had to look up the lyrics to work out what he was singing in the “part of her game” bit, but with the music, the lyrics when you work them out, and the Holly Valance in the video because why not, it’s just happy and great and joyous and everything. LOVE IT.
Tom: Side note: you know when TV shows do flashback episodes set in the ’80s, and it’s really easy to make everyone’s hair big so it looks suitably retro? Imagine how much trouble they’re going to have for flashbacks set in the ’10s. Good luck faking an undercut.
Tim: Also, he’s got a new album out in October, so look out for that why don’t you.
Tim: Since you mentioned “Hey Mickey” last week, I’m assuming this is another one you can file under “songs you didn’t know were covers”.
Tom: Oh! I had no idea.
Tim: And that there is the answer to “why did she choose ‘pretty’ and ‘pity’ to rhyme with Mickey?” which is a question no one has ever actually though to ask. Race were a mildly successful band (two hits), and this was on their debut 1979 album and left to rot as an album track; somehow, two years later Toni Basil heard it and decided she wanted to have a go at it. Fiddled with the lyrics (because eurgh, lesbians), upped the noise level a bit, and presto! One massive hit single.
Tom: And that’s understandable: perhaps I’m just used to Toni Basil’s version, but this is just a bit boring when it’s stripped down. It’s outstayed its welcome at two minutes — which could be true of the cover, too, if it wasn’t for the extra energy that’s chucked into it.
Tim: Fair point – I was going to mention that four minutes was overplaying it and they should have chopped it down like Mickey did, think that couldn’t last longer than three minutes or so.
Lyrics weren’t a perfect transition, of course: admittedly no-one really cares about the words beyond that chorus, but the gender switch gave the lines “So come on and give it to me, anyway you can, anyway you want to do it, I’ll take it like a man” an entirely different meaning. Still, a bit of fun no less. EDUCATION for you, there, hope you found it useful.
Tom: “It’s bloody awful,” says Daniel, our reader, “but there is something about it that makes me keep coming back for more.” That sounds like it’s right up our alley.
Tim: Huh. Didn’t realise the cast of Worms had made a foray into the world of music; I bloody wish they hadn’t, mind.
Tom: Daniel’s not wrong. And I can’t really complain about something that’s taking its inspiration from “Hey Mickey“; admittedly the vocals are artifically high-pitched this time, but it’s basically the same song updated by… wow. 33 years. Really? Huh. Okay.
Tim: What? No it’s not. It’s not remotely the same song. I do hope Toni Basil isn’t reading this, because you’ve just done her an *incredible* disservice. Aside from the titles sounding similar they are vastly different. That, a girl singing to a bloke she really fancies. Other, a song (barely deserving of that description) that is an astounding pile of trash created solely to sell some wanky “all natural” drink.
Tom: Wait, hold on, this is an advert? Blimey, my corporate-bullshit detector’s completely failed to fire. I assumed the drink was just invented for the video, not an actual thing. I wonder why I didn’t… hmm. There’s something weird going on here.
Wikipedia cites the drink “semi-fictional“, and says the singer’s a “performance artist”. Fader calls her the “@Horse_Ebooks of music”.
Tim: Hahaha, I’d forgotten about that. Sorry, carry on.
Tom: I honestly can’t tell if this is a confusing stunt for an energy drink, an artist satirising commerce, or some bizarre mix of the two. And that’s saying something: normally I utterly despise any sort of product placement or advert-culture mashup, but this is mostly just bewildering.
Uncharacteristically for me, I’m going to assume good faith. For whatever reason, I’m reading this as an artist coming up with an interesting concept and following through with it, even going so far as making a real drink to go with her fake persona. If it turns out to be all corporate-backed, I won’t be surprised, mind. Musically, though it stays for one chorus longer than it needs to be–
Tim: Three choruses, two verses and one middle eight longer. Actually, does it go by that structure? I assume so, but I don’t want to listen again to it to check.
Tom: –and yes, I imagine those vocals will start to grate over time — but on that first listen, reading it as a pop song rather than an advert, I have to admit that there’s a lot of this I like.
Tim: Oh, do shit off, please. This musical thing, if it can even be called that, is completely atrocious and entirely awful.
Tom: The production, while stripped-down, is good, and is it catchy.
Tim: Oh my GOD, and there was me thinking I was the one taken in by musical adverts.
Tom: I found myself tapping my feet, and that’s rare before I get to know a song.
Tim: You know, I have lost every shred of respect I once had for you, even the teensy tiniest ones that might be tucked away in a corner. Every single one.
Tom: No, no, hang on. That’s rubbish, and you know it.
Tim: Well, there was possibly a touch of hyperbole, but do go on.
I believe I countered with Spacey, the Incoherent Badly-Informed Anti-Capitalist Protester Hand Puppet, but then that was nearly four years ago and we’ve moved on since.
Tim: Two things: first, I will give you Shakeaway, which is probably the closest situation we’ve had to this one – it got sent in, I didn’t realise it was an advert; I’ll also point out that (a) you gave me exactly this kind of response that I’m giving you now and (b) that was a vaguely enjoyable track to listen to.
Second, Yeo Valley wasn’t pretending, and my love for that is based on the music, which (give it its due) is great – it’s a lovely boyband track, fantastic key change, good looking guys, shiny tractors and above all HAPPY FRIESIANS. Sure, it’s an advert for a product, but CAPITALISM ALERT pretty much every track that’s recorded is going for sales, that one just crossed the line between medium and product.
Tom: So don’t go saying you’ve lost “all respect for me”, matey, just because I’ve either parsed an incompetent marketing scheme as an actual pop song, or been impressed by a performance artist who’s over-committed to her work.
Tim: An incompetent marketing scheme (or what was potentially a genuine marketing scheme) that is SHEER BLOODY AWFUL. Remember when I said I didn’t want to listen to it again? I genuinely meant that, because my main problem here isn’t to do with the bit that it’s an advert, it’s that it’s a truly terrible track.
Throw these at me all you like, I’ll bat them back. Again, difference – Joe McElderry’s one wasn’t paid for by Coke, it was (however weirdly) decided upon by Joe/his management as a song to release. Sure, they probably made money from it, but that was a genuine “let’s record this because I want to sing it” track.
Tom: And here’s my point: that’s what this might be. In fact, I’m reading it as something stranger: there’s a plausible scenario where this is an artist creating a weird, all-in-one performance art and product design thing, and in that case, it’s working.
Tim: Hmm, still a bloody awful piece of music, though.
Perhaps we’ve gone on enough; I’ll go eat my yogurt (and fried chicken as well, I’m surprised you forgot about that), and you stick with
your energy elixir, and I suppose I can at least wish you well with all the “upward shine, vertical connectivity and personal growth” it brings you.
Tim: We reviewed Ready To Run; Viktoria came across it recently and sent us this to have a look at. It’s from last summer, and her debut single in the US.
Tim: And I think that’ll do me nicely. Our main complaint last time was that it built but never really climaxed; no such complaint here, and to be honest it’s quite nice to hear a “we are young” song that’s so calm and relaxed, and it makes me wonder why they’re quite rare – after all, being young is just as much about having time to relax as it is about wanting to party and be loud, but I digress.
Tom: That’s true: although I suspect it’s a tougher sell in the charts.
Tim: Pleasant track – I’d best describe it as a mix between Shania Twain and The Corrs, so there are two very ’90s references for you. Nice one.
Tom: I was going to say the Corrs! I’m not sure if that’s a compliment these days, but I meant it as one.
“The song we have most disagreed about for a long, long time”
Tim: Why this and why now? Well, basically I got a job the other day that I’ve been waiting a full five years for, so I want to listen to it.
Tom: Congratulations! But this is a terrible song.
Tim: What? Listen to it again, you might be confused.
Tim: But hahaha, I’d forgotten that Andrew Lloyd Webber was up on the stage with her being sung at.
Tom: Which knackers the staging, of course: the vast majority of the audience are going to wonder why they’ve got this piano off to the side.
Tim: And just what an underappreciated gem this was, with it being EASILY in the top three, and probably top two, of all of Britain’s entries since Katrina.
Tom: You’re wrong, absolutely wrong. It’s the most trite entry we’ve put in for years. “It’s my time” doesn’t even really make sense, particularly when it’s endlessly repeated with this simple melody, as if a six-year-old’s trying to compose a song.
Tim: What? It makes perfect sense “I’ve been down, down so long, but those days are gone now” – not exactly top notch rhyming, I’ll admit, but it’s a perfectly good narrative. It’s JADE’S TIME. Her TIME to SHINE. Besides, it’s EUROVISION. Complex metaphors and philosophical treatises are hardly going to down well with foreign audiences, are they?
Tom: Here, let me do an impression of this song: “IT’S MAH TAAAAM, IZZZ MAAA TAAAM”. It’s difficult to get across in text, but I was going for “bored toddler wanting a go on the swings”.
Tim: Well, just about any lyrics can be misinterpreted if you—oh, look, the song is just MARVELLOUS, if only for the simple reason that we can start belting it out if any bellends mention that Eurovision/politics wankery. (Although speaking of politics, this is a Wikipedia article I never expected to exist.)
Tom: No. No, no, no. I don’t care if it came fifth, I genuinely believe “That Sounds Good To Me” is a better track than this.
Tim: Oh, please, get off. Your main complaint here is with the lyrics, but you’d prefer “So if you bring the sunshine, I’ll bring the good times / Just add your laughter, it’s happy ever after”? THAT is trite, my friend.
Tom: Yes! It is! But it’s less trite than this! It’s not just three words repeated to a tune that you could get from a Fisher-Price Baby’s First Piano.
Don’t get me wrong, “Good To Me” is still terrible, but it’s not this terrible.
Tim: I am amazed, and to be honest somewhat delighted, that the song we have most disagreed about for a long, long time, is Britain’s Eurovision entry from six years ago. Look, this is a decent song, with inspirational lyrics and a good key change for emphasis, lots of close-up camera shots for her to connect with the audience.
Tom: It’s a dull song, with trite lyrics, and a camera that hardly focuses on her and which she sometimes faces away from. I’ll give you the key change, though.
Tom: No idea, but apparently I can’t remember nine-tenths of what we get through here, so you’re more likely to notice it than I am.
Tim: This got pushed out back in April, but somehow it never registered with me, and I think that’s because every time I’d have heard I’d have thought “Blimey, this Beyoncé track’s getting a lot of plays right now isn’t it?” Because at 1:09, sing along! “Everywhere I’m looking now, I’m surrounded by your embrace…”
Tom: And the rest does sound a bit like someone’s remixed Chandelier.
Tim: I’m sure it’s not deliberate, and I’m sure yesterday’s track’s Bay City Rollers similarity that you pointed out wasn’t deliberate, and I’m absolutely certain that part of the chorus on Jess Glynne’s track isn’t based on She’ll Be Coming Round The Mountain, but there it is. So are we just out of music now? I hope not, but the evidence suggests otherwise.
Tim: RIGHT THEN. Remember yesterday, with Rebecka Karlsson’s track that turned out to be a not-quite-seamless cover? Yeah, well here’s the original, from Reykjavik Pride 2014. They do like their Pride songs in Scandinavia, don’t they?
Tim: And that there sounds a WHOLE LOT BETTER, and not just because it’s more of a unified track, actually.
Tom: A string section! Much better production! Oh, that’s fantastic time. Although I’m sure I’ve heard that guitar part in the intro somewhere before.
Tim: Yeah? Not sure I recognise it. But the rest, WELL. For a start, there’s the lead-in to the chorus which comes straight from Je Ne Sais Quoi, and anything that involves Hera Björk get ten points in my book. The same can be said for any dance track that brings in a key change – I’m happy to accept that on standard pop tracks they can be overused, but on a dance track like this, it’d be criminal not to have one.
Tom: Yep, I broke out into a big grin. Hearing the cover version first is weird: in my head, this is the “fixed” version, not the better original.
Tim: Well, either way, we’ve got twenty points out of ten already, and we’ve only looked at a few seconds of it. It’s got top notch strings on there as you’ve pointed out, and, most importantly, everything blends nicely. So sorry, Rebecka – I’ll be sticking with the original.
Tom: They’re from Ukraine, pronounced “em em dance”, and their mission is to “bring people together through the songs of light, joy and smiles”.
Tim: Perfectly decent mission, especially for a pop group.
Tom: Yep, they’re a party band, they’ve got an accordion, and the song’s called Friends.
Tom: No, it’s not a Scooter cover, but it’s certainly got that same “take some else’s song and change it up a bit” feel to it. Does it remind you of anything else?
Tim: Erm…nope. Not at all, actually.
Tom: Wait, really? Weren’t you listening to the radio in the mid-90s?
Tim: Not the same radio you listened to, apparently. Go on, tell me.
Tom: It’s reggae-classic Shine by Aswad, filtered through the Ukraine with the help of an accordion. Did they credit it? No idea. Is it any good? Well, yes. It’s just, you know, from twenty years ago.
Tim: Hmm. To be honest, much as I hate to say this, they’ve kind of failed in their light/joy/smiles mission, because this song does precisely nothing for me. It’s very much a standard middle-of-the-semis at Eurovision, failing to progress through. Dial it up more and you might get back to Ukraine’s 2007 glory, but as it is, nope.
Tim: From last October, this by Fall Out Boy, which is entirely not ‘us’, but I’ve just seen Big Hero 6 and it’s BRILLIANT.
Tom: Isn’t it, though?
Tim: I mean to be honest I don’t have much to say about the song itself – it’s got a very very good chorus line, even if the lyrics don’t really make much sense, but the rest is a bit of a racket, and not really up there with Fall Out Boy’s best.
Tom: Whoa, really? Because this (along with Save Rock and Roll) is one of their stand-out tracks for me.
Tim: I don’t know – it’s certainly very good, but as far as rock tracks go I generally prefer something with a bit more melody; in Fall Out Boy’s case I’d have Sugar We’re Going Down, or maybe Dance, Dance – though that might be just remembering them from university when I would have put up with that. I will restate, though, that the chorus here is utterly brilliant.
HOWEVER, regardless of Fall Out Boy’s back catalogue, Big Hero 6 is absolutely wonderful, and everybody should see it, and it’s on Netflix and all the usual places so watch it because it’s very funny and lovely as well. Done.
Tom: An indie musician this weekend, Tim, with one of the most interesting videos I’ve seen in a while.
Tim: Blimey, it really is.
Tom: Let’s talk about that video first. Because the first time I saw this, a year ago, I thought “oh, someone’s made a video out of GIFs”. Which, you know, was a good idea and fairly clever but didn’t seem all that much.
But look at those credits. Nearly all those GIFs were shot specially for this video. They’re the musician’s friends and collaborators. Some of them even had watermarks from completely fake GIF sites posted over them in order to make them look like they came from the web. That’s an incredible amount of effort to go to.
Tim: It really is, and it works very very well: it’s completely mesmerising, but not in a way that distracts from the sound, because it’s got thought put into it and it ties together well. You’ve got the mouth sounds on the first slow chorus, say, or the masterly punning on the re-entry from the middle eight.
Tom: And the music: well, I’m not sure quite what it is, but it very much works for me. The steady build to the distorted cry, the simple five-note chorus; they really stand out.
Tim: And for me, that MASSIVE build towards the end is fantastic, both visually and aurally.
Tom: Not quite sure about the ending — it seems to tail off rather than reaching a conclusion, and I reckon it’d be better going out on a high or on a proper fade, not somewhere in between. But that’s a minor quibble: this is enchanting, and I really like it.
Tim: For me that works fine – a final reminder of what the song is about, a quiet soulful close after that build a few seconds earlier. Sounds perfect, to be honest.
