Sunday, 25 March 2012

Single Review No1: 26-03-2012

Ok so Adam had a thought the other week, it was a bit like one of those ancient Greek type Eureka moments, you know, when some beardy clever clogs did some science in the bath? Or, if you’d like a more modern cultural reference, when George Costanza has a misguided epiphany on a pier in Seinfeld, you know? No? Oh fuck you!

Anyway, that sort of happened to Adam, only he wasn’t in the bath, or on a pier, in fact as far as I knew he had been trying to explain sex to Ashley * again *, which is quite a common occurrence at Cold Ghetto Towers, I was ignoring it because I had a go at doing it once and I vowed never to do it again, there’s only so much eye-twitching, frontal lobe detonating pain one man can take in an afternoon and so I was miles away with my head in the Puffin Book of Penguin Facts for last weeks exposé into the fascinating world of penguins and their frost proof feet, and so all was well in my world.

But I could sense something was up, like a disturbance in the force, or an incoming storm of doom flopping into the sunny skyline seemingly from out of nowhere, I looked up from my book, and there was Adam, starring into the middle distance. I thought he’d finally flipped his mental wig, that Ashley had finally broken his Editor-in-chiefness with his doltish ways. I was half expecting to have to dive in and stop Adam from forcing feeding the demonstrator Ken & Barbie dolls he was using to give Ashley some sort of visual aid into the mechanics of sexy sex.

That was until Adam started capering about the office like one of Henry VIII’s favourite fools gone nuts on Angel Dust, you know the kind of thing I mean, a dude with a hat with bells on it and a bladder on a stick, the scene quickly became even more surreal when Adam started to juggle the six inch pieces of plastic consumerist tat as he danced around the office.

Now this is unusual behaviour, even for Adam, and so I was bit worried the pressure of editor-in-chiefing this nonsense had finally got to him, it’s a high-pressure job and it had to happen at some point right?

I was all set to go at him with a butterfly net and a straightjacket, don’t ask why we’ve got those lying around the office, it’s a long story and no one comes out of it with any credit, but the boss finally stopped twirling like the world’s most giant, most hairy, most uncoordinated and most eeeeuuuurrrhhhhgggghhh music-box ballerina and finally shouted “Singles”. Alarm bells rang straight away, I’ve just finished reading Jon Ronson’s excellent The Psychopath Test and I’m fairly sure randomly blurting out words like someone with Tourrette’s Syndrome was one of the thirty classic signs that someone has gone danger-nuts to a high level.

I didn’t know whether to send Ashley down the shop to buy some Dairylea slices, seeing as that was what Adam’s volatile state-of-mind and this excitable agitation seemed to centre around, or call the emergency services. I was determined to make no sudden movements, anything could startle him at this point and I’m no expert in super-psychotic madness or what to do if someone all of a sudden does some unexplained giddy dance-juggling.

Now I was in a proper head-scratching pickle, I needed to calm Adam down, or get him sedated and because I wouldn’t normally trust Ashley to cross the road safely, let alone go to the shops for some emergency tasteless sandwich cheese, lord alone knows what the dingbat would bring back to the office, a bunch of flowers, a selection of garden gnomes, a Star Wars Lego Imperial Tie-Fighter, a packet of Sherbet Dib-Dabs, a pocket full of conkers, some instant Angel Delight mix, anything could happen, but you’re unlikely to get cheese, plus I figured that if I went that meant leaving Adam alone with Ashley while I hot-footed it to the shop, and that didn’t seem like any sort of sensible plan at all.

I finally opened a channel of dialogue, speaking in as soothing and calming voice as possible “I don’t think we have any cheese?”

“I don’t want cheese.” Adam responded.

“But you said you wanted singles?” I said, trying to stay calm.

“Not that sort of singles. Music singles, you know? Beyonce, Madonna, Level 42?”

“Oh, right, what about them?”

“We should review them, you know for when they come out, so people know if they should buy them or not?”

“Because of what we say?”
“Yeah, why not? We get over 200 followers a day, and we’ve had over 27,000 unique visitors to the blog since last July, some of them have got to be smart right?”
“I guess, but why would they listen to us? Who the fuck are we?”

“Well, you know, you did write that piece about Moustaches that more than 2000 people have read that? These people will read anything?”

“I suppose so, does that mean I’d actually have to listen to pop music though?”

“Erm, yeah a bit. Well, quite a lot probably.”


And so with that being the situation, here’s our first crack at music reviewing. Each week we’ll look at five new release singles and giving you our verdict as well as rating each out of 10. Steve goes first, Adam's thoughts follow in italics.

Singles – Release Date: 26 – 03 -2012

Plan B – ill Manors

It’s kind of catchy, I’ve listened to it three times now and although I almost certainly wouldn’t buy it I definitely get why the yoof like it, it’s also comfortably the best single of the week, which when you look at the competition isn’t saying much but it’s not Plan B’s fault the music world is full of shite. A decent enough effort, kind of like an angrier, better, less irritating The Streets. I don’t mind the Prodigy remix either, de ne ner ne ne ner, booop, booop, boooop, beeeepp, cllaaaang, boooop de ne ner ne ne ner. Agreed, social discontent often throws up interesting bits of culture, this isn’t that though, but it does seem to sum up the feelings of today’s urbanite youth. It’s really not my bag at all, and considering this site is named after our foray into gangster rap, but it is far and away the best of our weekly five. The Prodigy remix is much better.

Rating (Out of 10): 5

Chris Brown – Turn Up the Music

Oh fuck off Chris! The sort of paint by numbers, overly engineered, voice encoded horse-piss that strangled the life out of proper urban music long ago, I blame Puff Daddy, and Chris Brown. Oh and he’s a woman beating toss rag as well so that’s at least two really good reasons not to buy this shite. Well, I like it a little more than Steve does, but he raises a good point, I’m as likely to buy a Gary Glitter best of as give this turd any of my ill-gotten gains. I blame that French bloke for this sort of dross, no, not Nicolas Sarkozy, David Guetta… the bastard!

Rating: 3

James Morrison – One Life

I was going to listen to each of these singles at least twice, but I can’t do it. The sort of God-awful nonsense that I thought we’d all finished with. Tedious balladeering toss for the sort of twats who would buy one of the easy listening CD’s from a Starbucks or the Friends soundtrack. Gutless pish. Seriously, I’d rather puke toxic bile onto my crotch and watch as my genitals turn to mush than listen to that again. Cynically marketed advert soundtrack bilge.

Rating: 1 (and that’s because I’m not sure if we go as low as 0)

Jason Mraz – I Won’t Give Up

Is this what we’ve become? Giddy about fucking and shit, whining on like a twanging, sugary lump of overly schmaltzy schmaltz. No wonder David Cameron thinks he can take a running piss at us all. Jesus wept. I refer you to my earlier comments regarding James Morrison.

Rating: 2

Lostprophets – Bring ‘Em Down

Are these twats back? Why? I thought we’d lost them in last years riots, and good riddance it all was too. Noisy, childish, silly, bollocks. And not in a good way. Still at least they aren’t twanging on about their love dumb feelings. Well, this really is a week that will go down as one of the nails in the coffin of singles. I haven’t heard a Lost Prophets record since that Shinobi versus Wobbly Codpiece debut they had out and I really hoped I’d never hear another one, oh well, at least if the Mayan’s were right I might never hear another one.

Rating: 3

So there you have it, Plan B wins single of the week in our first time out... I hope next week's a little better than this... I doubt it though. On another note, the radio station I usually listen to went to a commercial so I tuned in Radio 1, I lasted 30 seconds, utter shite!

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