2004 Top 20 Singles

[11] Estelle, ‘1980’

Estelle

Estelle’s warm and joyous, splendidly old skool autobiography is heavily abridged – I met her in about 2000, and there’s not even the briefest mention of that fleeting, significant moment. She was about to make a record with Blak Twang, and was small, but you probably knew that much. I gave the rest of her sparky debut album a spin this morning too, and it’s clear her proper breakthrough second wasn’t a huge departure – it just has a few more Kanye Wests.

For Junior, ‘1980’ is just catchy enough to have her dancing and acknowledging some non-Girls Aloud records aren’t so bad after all. She takes her baby sister’s hands for a turn around the living room, making hearts leap in mouths as they career past sharp-cornered furniture.

There were a hundred and fifty of us living in t’ shoebox in t’ middle o’ road:

[12] Gwen Stefani, ‘What You Waiting For?’

Gwen Stefani and her Harajuku Girls

Not just a zillion-mile-per-hour state-of-the-art glossy pop single, but a fascinating soul-search into the bargain. For three-and-a-half head-mashing minutes, Gwenno trills engagingly about the position of the slightly older woman in modern culture (“Your moment will run out ‘cos of your sex chromosome”), tosses a few proverbial coins to ease her decision to leave No Doubt (Jesus Christ, woman, do it!), ticks herself off as a cowardly “stupid hoe” and – choice made – hurtles down the rabbit hole to solo stardom. The odd dreadful misfire aside, Love. Angel. Music. Baby justified the audacity and the equally mixed bag The Sweet Escape pretty much sealed it.

So why’s she rejoining the Doubters? Did Satan buy her soul? Was she handed ‘Don’t Speak’ at a still, silent crossroads all those years ago?

This busy record has Junior grinning and “tick-tocking” like Captain Hook’s crocodile nemesis. Brassy concoctions like ‘What You Waiting For?’ are the base fuel of modern pop music, keeping the treble high, the sonic effects pinging and the “imaginary” Harajuku fairies jacking – it’s the least a modern girl like Junior expects.

Your hot track:

[13] Belle And Sebastian, ‘I’m A Cuckoo’

belleandsebastian12

Did Trevor Horn ruin Belle And Sebastian? Did Russell T. Davies ruin Doctor Who? Did Tony Blair ruin Labour? Nah, they just buffed them up until you could shave in them. Dear Catastrophe Waitress represented a sonic step forward – or sideways, however you look at it – but B&S were never exactly scuzzy and never lost their lighter touch. There’s not much lightness of touch on ‘I’m A Cuckoo’, unless you take it for a wimpier spin on Thin Lizzy; there are guitar pyrotechnics (well, they spark a little) and it soars up to a triumphant final verse, riding shotgun with the Sunday gang in Harajuku.

Junior bops, and actually likes it. I’ve suspicions that the chocolate cornflake cake she was munching did more to hep up her mood, but Belle And Sebastian never did anyone any harm.

Tune in on Monday for the second part of our Harajuku double-header.

There’s something wrong with me:

[14] Delays, ‘Long Time Coming’

Delays

While we’re doing hapless pop stars destined never to have the hits their music doesn’t make sense without, here’s Delays! ‘Long Time Coming’ – in all its joy and verve and pulsating radio-friendlyness – did manage to chug to No.16 in the chart, but as they cobble together a fourth album with yet another record label, even the minor hits have long since dried up.

Do I champion records no one else likes?

Don’t answer that. Junior’s considered judgement was, “I didn’t dance to that,” but she could’ve done. She really could. Granted, it’d be at an indie disco and she’d be wearing a baggy, moth-eaten jumper and stripy tights, but some sort of dancing nonetheless. She also said, “Uncle Paddy has this record,” and I don’t think that’s true. It’d be statistical madness.

Threw your Lego in the lake:

[15] Annie, ‘Chewing Gum’

Annie

This is a “nice” song, so says Junior. She might not peg it as all that nice if she knew the dirt behind the lyric – yet AGAIN; what’s with all the naughty female soloists this week? – but it’s just as easy to engage with its surface gloss.

Annie from Norway is a darling of the blogosphere, and that’s pretty much where her darlingness ends. It’s a low down tawdry old shame that these pop scholar artists don’t actually appeal to the pop kids, whether they’re mixing it with Richard X or Xenomania or whoever, and gorgeous albums like Annie’s debut gather dust in the racks. Her second’s suffered an even worse fate, its release postponed endlessly until the label finds a hit – any hit – to give it a launchpad. ‘Chewing Gum’, with its hugely irritating hooks and synthy marvellousness, should’ve been one of those gold dust hits – that it wasn’t is YOUR FAULT.

Oh no:

[16] Kelis, ‘Milkshake’

Kelis

So what are you gonna do? Your debut album unleashes a fiery hip-hop-soul Fury on the world, underpinned by peerless Neptune beats and no-filler songwriting, but the follow-up plops onto the tiles like a wet flannel. What are you gonna do? RELEASE THE SEX, that’s what. A dramatic u-turn on the road to the dumper, ‘Milkshake’ is dirty in some vague way, bumping, grinding and worming its way into your aural cavity. That’s “aural”. It’s a primitive record, sparse and jerky in its tribal rhythms, but it was a surefire sign Kelis was back in business – and with third album Tasty glorying in a shot of her slurping a lollipop, the raunchy recovery was complete.

It’s a little bit ripe to play to a callow reviewer, but we’re banking on Junior missing nuance at this age. She wiggled her shoulders like a girl who’s seen one too many must-we-feed-our-kids-this-FILTH? pop videos on MTV and appeared to like the song. So did she? “No.” I’m beginning to spot a pattern.

Better than yours:

[17] Jamelia, ‘Thank You’

Jamelia

“I didn’t like it,” was Junior’s considered response, “But I do like this.” “This” was the new Bat For Lashes album.

Poor Jamelia. Junior wasn’t interested because she was enjoying the rare treat of a bowl of Honey Nut Loops, but Jamelia’s used to the cold shoulder. A weary example of the British music industry’s failure to support black female artists – unless, like Estelle, they’ve had a snazzy US makeover – she’s currently nose to the grindstone on her fourth album without the luxury of a record contract. Our Jam jumped ship from Parlophone (or was she pushed?) when the splendid Walk With Me puzzlingly failed to shift the units it deserved. Hey, maybe the public just doesn’t like her enough.

‘Thank You’ is the title track of her second album, back when she looked like a Superstar in the making. It’s a battered but defiant roar of self-assurance, set to a typically ambitious setting of bleeps and shimmers, and was a strong enough tune to stride to No.2. The thing is, it doesn’t always work like that.

Made me strong:

[18] The Go! Team, ‘Ladyflash’

The Go! Team

This sounds like Saint Etienne and The Cookie Crew getting down and raspy in a tin can. Whether that’s the acest thing out or an utter cacophony is entirely up to you.

As for Junior, she walked like an Egyptian to the first drifting bars then threw a tantrum about putting on her shoes. Let’s say she hasn’t made up her mind.

We came here to rock the microphone:

[19] Phoenix, ‘Everything Is Everything’

Phoenix

A clean pop single from a group of French funkadelicists, ‘Everything Is Everything’ isn’t the greatest thing committed to wax (this is still the ‘70s, right?), but it’s beautifully arranged, meekly sung, pleasingly juddery and oozes West Coast ease. That’s a lot of boxes ticked if you’re reaching for that Guilty Pleasures aesthetic, and I’m assuming they were.

Junior got into the groove with gusto while her sister chewed the CD case. She seemed to like it – that’s the groover, not the chewer – but when I checked with her she told me, “No. It’s so, so horrible.” Girls are so inscrutable.

Can’t understand a word:

[20] Bloc Party, ‘Banquet’

Bloc Party

LET’S START 2004 then.

They’ve had a tough time of it, Bloc Party. Unconfirmed reports suggest they were the first band whipped by a backlash before they’d even been hyped, and the strikes only got fiercer when Kele Okereke had the temerity to fill their second album with a few prosaic lyrics. The horror! Then Kele went and got himself beaten up – and allegedly racially abused – by John Lydon and his lackeys, and everyone felt a bit awkward. Don’t worry; the metaphorical boot will get put back in when that fourth album comes around.

Do they deserve the sneers? I put the question to Junior, who gave me a look that said she’d woken up at 6am and wasn’t ready for any query more complex than “Jam or Marmite?” It was a loquacious look. I diluted the quiz – do you like this? A nod. Good choppy guitars? A nod. Can you say “Bloc Party?” “Bloc Party.”

Sometimes that’s enough.

Urgent, spiky, yelpy – ‘Banquet’ bears a mark of promise that’s occasionally been fulfilled over three diverting albums. I think they’ve done OK.

On fire: