Let me start, right from the off, by stating I hate - widda capital-8 - this 'ere record! This MUST be some kinda burger-group conspiracy, some lapse in cultural quality control, some joke...
I shouldn't be _so_ surprised, the last single was just as baaaaad, with that annoying grunt "this is real life", looping and looping but hey, they just had to do it again. Why didn't they get dropped after that trite? You can't tell me it actually sold? BUT WHO THE F.C.U.K. SPENDS THEIR HARD-EARNED PENNIES ON THIS KRRRRAAP?!? Mistakes happen. Retractions ain't illegal. Things like this become embarassing in the future, I promise ya!
Confused? Not heard it? Ok... Anyone out there remember 'On A Ragga Tip' that was back when Drum'n'Bass'n'Jungle crossed over into popworld, around the same kinda time the Outhere Brothers** got silly little boys (yes, guilty as charged!) listening and a-gigglin' to porn on record and Scooter were dropping their debut trancey pop-trite bomb? Well, this is from that world, for that sorry world, still wearing Spliffy jeans, drinking clear coca-cola and laughing at yuppies with giant mobile phones. This is the world where the Prodigy are still gods and not a band living off being the first and last cartoon punk band for the e-generation. This is a world where the dumber, the better, and bonus points for the more annoying the beat, the beat, the beat, dsh, dsh, dump, dump, dsh... Basically, you repeat everything as many times as possible until you HAVE to leave the studio from mind-numbedness and then laugh at the fact people who work in factories hearing sounds looping over and over AND OVER, will dance to it while on their concoctions of rat poison and chalk...
Yet for some reason this song, that world, has found its way into my world of big guitars, softly speaking elf-women, skate jeans and the odd bittah booty-wigglin'. Most importantly, my world is 10 years in the future. That's two-thou-nd-free babeee! Yes, yes kidz, this song got me via the blast'd MTV2 playlist and for some fucken reason, someone, somewhere, thinks this is good enough to release.
I am confused why Source, imprint of Virgin (no longer ANYTHING AT ALL to do with R.Branson!) famous of late for the folky niceness of Turin Brakes and the husky lauded tones of Gemma Hayes, the once-good-now-crap indie-dance kidz with their holy mobile disco Simian* and twee-lo-fi-electonica-ists Kings of Convenience*. Why is a label like that, releasing sheeyat like this?? I know it'sa quiet time o'year, perfect for tiny releases to slip into the singles racks, hoping for pop-chart success (who gives a poo about the charts anyhoo?). But who, having heard this, is going to wander out onto the cold streets to splash their filthy wrinkled cash then take this home and listen to it?
Maybe this is all too simple and I shoulda just turned the tv off and left it at that. I shoulda let the fact people buy Will Young records and eat battered Mars Bars make this make sense, but I can't believe it. This isn't mediocre or slightly controversial, this is just machines and crusty voices. I wish I coulda remained in a confused bubble but this forced me out of it and to write this to you. So please, someone, anyone, explain why-oh-stonkin'-why???
1Sean Adams's Score