COMPETITION: The 7-inch is still 60

A heap of my 45s, Sunday

It’s competition time! Identify the 60 7” singles above – some easy, some fiendish – and send your answers (artist and title) to matthew@jukeboxjunior.com. The person with the most correct answers (earliest entrant if there’s a tie) wins The Kinks’ recent Picture Book box set (promo version, I should say – 6 CDs, double-height jewel trays, some artwork on the “book” cover, no booklet). Competition ends midnight, 30 April. Slapdash terms and conditions apply, probably.

The 2004 No.4 may follow later today.

[5] Green Day, ‘American Idiot’

Green Day

Junior reckons “it’s too noisy.”

Me? I can’t stand Green Day. Punk? Pah. Just snotty, stary, immaculately-scruffily coiffed Americans opening the door to the limp likes of Sum 41 and any number of other anarcho-veneered, Studio Line-spiked college brats.

Imagine my irritation when ‘’American Idiot’ kicked a hole in our heads with a chorus strong enough to fell Big Daddy. It’s like your Harley cannoning down the road, leaving you flat on your arse, thinking, erm, “Rats. I swore I’d never like a Green Day song.” Thank God the lyrics are so trite.

Sing along to the age of paranoia!

[6] Secret Machines, ‘Nowhere Again’

Secret Machines

Why does everything have to have a name these days? Why does music have to be put in a box, a genre, a scene? Why does every rock critic have to christen a movement, splicing terms together like so many mini-Paul Morleys? Can’t good music just be good music? The campaign starts here.

So, this is a mighty slice of KrautProg from the two brothers and their mate who made up Secret Machines before one brother split to form the equally splendid School Of Seven Bells.

Junior told me her Barbie liked it. When quizzed on what else Barbie likes, she replied, “High School Musical”. Isn’t it nice to see a doll with such eclectic taste?

You’d be surprised how we race:

[7] Kylie Minogue, ‘I Believe In You’

Kylie Minogue

All things considered, at the end of the day, when all’s said and done, in the final analysis, weighing up the pros and cons, when it all comes down to it, if I’m pushed, I’d say ‘I Believe In You’ is my favourite Kylie single. Not ‘Shocked’, not ‘Can’t Get You Out Of My Head’, not ‘I Should be So Lucky’, not ‘Love At First Sight’ – no, I believe in ‘I Believe In You’.

So does Junior. And, if pushed, if asked if she likes Kylie’s singing, she says, “Yes.” And what else does she like? I meant what else does she like about the song, but… “Mermaids. And Sleeping Beauty and Cinderella.”

From top to toe, this record’s gorgeous. Lush and dreamy. I like to think it’s the Kylester’s answer to John Lennon’s ‘God’, but it is, of course, the work of 2004’s main chart sales flava – Scissor Sisters. Who’d have thought Scissor Sisters had it in them?

But I-i-i believe in… me, Yoko and me:

[8] Girls Aloud, ‘Love Machine’

Girls Aloud

Frankly, I think I’ve written enough about Girls Aloud. I love them, Junior loves them, we all have a mad dance-off. I look ridiculous and Junior looks as if she could oust anyone who’s not pulling their weight.

‘Love Machine’ is a fairly straightforward beat group pastiche, that batters its ho-hum roots with manic enthusiasm, barmy lyrics and those excellent “oh”s. And Cheryl doing the claws.

Let’s go, eskimo:

[9] Kings Of Leon, ‘The Bucket’

Kings Of Leon

How did these Southern varmints become the biggest band in the world (hell, near enough)? That was going to be rhetorical, but I’m saying – by taking their rough-edged, tighter-than-a-Liverpool-winning-margin, down-home rock and polishing away any abrasive corners, ditching the concise for the flabby and bunging in as many leadfooted power chords as a song can take without collapsing under a stadium-weight of tedium. And that’s an improvement, is it, record-buying public?

OK, ‘The Bucket’ is a sly step in that direction, but back in 2004 the good ol’ boys still had a few tricks: some speedy military drumming, a cheeky riff, a “woo” to announce their second-album return and some crazy guff about a “Japanese scream”. It’s just so much more interesting than ohhhhh-ohh-ohhh this sex is on fire. Nonsense shouldn’t be meaningful (man).

These are fine margins, of course, and Junior wasn’t having any of it. No matter how bang-on-the-beat her dad’s air-drumming was, she was in a big sulk and it was entrenched. I reckon girls prefer later Leon anyway. This is based on a straw poll of her mum.

I’ll swing my legs:

[10] Rufus Wainwright, ‘I Don’t Know What It Is’

Rufus Wainwright

One day, Junior and her sister will have haphazard hitmaking careers of their own, keeping me in Earl Grey and cheeky Hoegaarden four-packs into my dotage. Perhaps one of them will even have the courtesy to pen a ‘Bloody Motherf***ing A**hole’ paean to their dear old Pops, to bring a tear to a wrinkly peeper. O happy day, eh?

Martha’s already a big noise around here, so Junior was intrigued to hear bruv in action. She practised saying his name – “Woofus” – and paused after the Gay Messiah’s final crescendo to rate the song “Lovely”. It is as well. As ornate, grandiose, heart-swelling and gaudy as anything on Want One, it makes me bellow along in the car like an octave-battering diva on wheels. Woofus is on a hunt for himself and I’ve no idea if he ever did turn up, but the search is a thrill.

Chugging along:

[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: