2009

[1] Cameo, ‘Word Up’

But not even Prince ever sported a massive pink codpiece.

Actually, don’t quote me on that. Was it Larry Blackmon’s codpiece that made this such a huge, surprise hit? Or was it the hulking beat, the Spaghetti Western whistles, the ludicrous accent, the instant-hip phrases, the juggernaut power of The Funk, the fiery brass-boosted final chorus or the wig-out to the sunset?

All these things plus its immediacy. As Larry suggests, “Wave your hands in the air like you don’t care,” Junior shrugs. Like she doesn’t care, you see. Metatext. After that she gives it some windmilling, then her little sister jumps on her and makes clip-clop noises…

Right, time to stop. Time to stop 1986. Time to go all 2009. That Top 20 starts on Monday, and the Noughties Top 20 starts as soon as we finish that. Around April then.

Yo pretty ladies:

TV On The Radio, ‘Crying’

TV On The Radio

A month-long gap is inexcusable of course. Anyway, my excuses are holiday, seasonal lack of exciting releases and a nagging sense I should be searching for a new job. I have your sympathy now, don’t I?

This is a single from a couple of months back, from an album about 10 months back. Topical. It’s the only obviously Princey song from TV On The Radio’s reputedly very Princey Dear Science, funking along with a guitar riff that could cut your hair. Still, while the album might not be massively Minneapolitan, it’s completely bloody amazing and the global critical consensus says, “Here, here.” Everyone’s jumped on board now, possibly because it’s the most accessible thing TVOTR have done; there’s a sense of relief they’ve shipped out challenging for tuneful, but even though the sound was murkier on Return To Cookie Mountain, it was really no less melodic. You just had to try a little harder. Maybe no one wants to try a little harder.

We didn’t try all that hard here, mind. No chance Junior could keep still in the car seat as TVOTR hit their groove, but we reserved our critical faculties for Kyp Malone’s name. Surely no one’s called Kyp? “Harvey at nursery’s middle name is Kyp.” I’ll take her at her word.

Smoke me a Kyp:

Lady GaGa, ‘Paparazzi’

Lady GaGa

In some cold sense, Lady GaGa is a fantastic pop star – all glitz and Vegas glamour, ever-changing, seemingly personality-free – yet it’s those very things that make her one big nothing. In my shady day job as editor of a horrifyingly mainstream music site, GaGa is a godsend. She’s full of juicy quotes, decked out in a new flesh-flashing doily every day, selling phenomenal amounts of records and it’s all so… so… boring.

On the other hand, she put on a sterling if robotic show at Glastonbury and ‘Just Dance’, ‘Poker Face’ and ‘Paparazzi’ are the sort of ear-worms that The Saturdays, say, would kill for. I’ve gone with the third single here because – hey! – it’s recent and we’re nothing if not bleeding-edge. ‘Paparazzi’ is a huge great clunking metaphor for slavish empty adoration; just the kind GaGa needs for these 15 minutes.

Is Junior her biggest fan? She shuffles in her seat as she takes the standard eon to eat her cornflakes, but in the end the song merits a shrug. I try to fire some debate: “Do you know what ‘Paparazzi’ means?” “Morris has got one.” Her friend Morris calls his dad “Papa”, you see. Maybe he’s seen him sneak off into the night with his Canon, in hot pursuit of a mini-Madonna in a bubble dress. It’s a living.

Snap snap to that shit on the radio:

Spinnerette, ‘Ghetto Love’

Spinnerette

One of my favourite albums at the moment is Spinnerette’s taut, hard-rockin’, saucy debut. It’s fronted by ex-Distiller and current Mrs Josh Homme Brody Dalle, with riffing support from Tony Bevilacqua, Alain Johannes and Jack Irons, and bowls along like a teeth-baring monster truck – too fierce to be ridiculous. ‘Ghetto Love’ – an almost 2009 single – sets the stall out, swinging and bulldozing with carefree intensity, addictive as wine gums.

Junior reckons the guitars are “louder than mine”, which is good news all round. She also declares, with some thought, “I like this and Hannah Montana. Just this and Hannah Montana.” Someone tell Brody – she’s made the big time.

Humanity is a deer in the headlights:

2009 Top 20 Singles?

We did this about this time last year, so why change a vaguely popular feature? These are the Top 20 Most Played 2009 Singles on the ever-honest iPod:

[1] Yeah Yeah Yeahs, ‘Zero’
[2] Dananananaykroyd, ‘Black Wax’
[3] The Horrors, ‘Sea Within A Sea’
[4] Passion Pit, ‘The Reeling’
[5] Animal Collective, ‘My Girls’
[6] James Yuill, ‘No Surprise’
[7] Sunny Day Sets Fire, ‘Adrenaline’
[8] TV On The Radio, ‘Dancing Choose’
[9] Frankmusik, ‘Better Off As Two’
[10] Röyksopp featuring Robyn, ‘Girl And The Robot’
[11] Jamie T, ‘Sticks ‘n’ Stones’
[12] Coldplay, ‘Life In Technicolor ii’
[13] U2, ‘Magnificent’
[14] The Phantom Band, ‘The Howling’
[15] Eg, ‘Broken’
[16] Junior Boys, ‘Hazel’
[17] Lily Allen, ‘The Fear’
[18] Fischerspooner, ‘Supply & Demand’
[19] Saint Etienne, ‘Method Of Modern Love’
[20] Red Light Company, ‘Arts & Crafts’

But will it bear any resemblance to the year-end chart? Be sure to check in 18 or 19 weeks.

The Duckworth Lewis Method, ‘The Age Of Revolution’

The Duckworth Lewis Method

Let’s get this up now, before they all take to the field at Lord’s and tear up the history books. The Age Of Revolution, eh? Shorter forms of the game, pyjamas, fewer strokes through extra covers – and massive fourth innings winning totals? Just because 522 hasn’t been achieved before, doesn’t mean these pesky Aussies won’t do it.

Neil Hannon (Lewis) and Thomas Walsh (Duckworth)’s glorious cricket concept album sails so close to arch parody (what? With Hannon on board?), but squeaks through thanks to its wit, affection and tunes. ‘The Age Of Revolution’ is that old chestnut, funky Charleston, and revels in a changing game. It’s a tasty scene-setter for an often hilarious and poignant record, warm with nostalgia and wide-eyed at possibilities.

Junior smiles as it wheezes into action, but when pressed on her thoughts says, “I haven’t decided.” She’s hedging her bets. Me? I think Australia will win.

Get Clarke:

La Roux, ‘In For The Kill’

La Roux

Now, I bow to no man in my devotion to all things synthy/plonky/tinny, but aren’t La Roux a step too far? Isn’t theirs a slavish fixation on 1981 electrobop, right down to the hairsprayed-within-an-inch quiff? Isn’t it all an unseemly retread? No!

Hmmm. Yes. Maybe. But it doesn’t matter when it’s done with this much panache, with this many hooks, with a singer possessed of just the right amount of pouty glower to slip seamlessly into Ultravox. June Ackland’s daughter Elly Jackson is doing a marvellous job rubbing everyone up the wrong way – well, rubbing interviewers up the wrong way, while the public falls for her in swoony droves – and that’s how we like our pop stars. OK, that’s how we like some of our pop stars. More than a handful of Mark E Smiths is too much of a good thing.

Anyway, let’s take opinions from a cross-section of the kids.  Junior pouts like a common Elly and says she doesn’t like ‘In For The Kill’. Is it the auditory challenge of Jackson’s high-pitched trill? No, she just wants to watch Milkshake. Different response from Junior 2 – let’s call her A-Trak – who bodypops in her highchair with all the glee that Junior’s pouted out.

La Roux, then: big with the kids unless Peppa Pig’s on.

Dog whistle:

Arctic Monkeys, ‘Crying Lightning’

Arctic Monkeys

They’re men now. They brood. They grow their hair. They sport beards. They make records with ginger gorilla Josh Homme. It’s a patina of manliness, though, with Alex Turner still whippet-thin, still a bit too Sheffield to be proper muscular rock’n’roll. ‘Crying Lightning’ seems a bit deeper, a bit less eager to let go and indulge in childish things, but then Turner goes and ruins it all with a reference to “pick’n’mix”. It doesn’t sound like an honest hiccup of salt-of-the-earthiness. It sounds like a sop to those who suspect they might be about to go all Hollywood. It sounds Peter Kay.

There’s a grower here all the same and a meatiness that neatly disguises the lack of – let’s face it, chaps – a song. They’ve always had that gift. Whether it’ll keep on giving, album after album, well, we’ll see. At least they’re only starting to look like Kings Of Leon, rather than buffing, polishing and dowdying up their music to sound like them too.

Cheerily bursting the Monkeys’ oh-so-serious bubble, Junior giggles at their name. “Is the monkey singing now?” “Do they dress up?” “I liked the first bit but I didn’t like the last bit.” That last remark’s obviously a withering comment on the transience of pop favour. You can search for the pick’n’mix all you like, Alex; it’s gone.

Everybody Wang Chung tonight:

Empire Of The Sun, ‘We Are The People’

Empire Of The Sun

By any reasonable standard, it’s a bit early for a “new MGMT”. Actually, I think it’ll always be a bit early for a new one, best single of 2008 notwithstanding. On the face of it, Empire of The Sun are more pleasingly uncluttered and electronic – a little cleaner, a touch poppier – but obviously they look equally ridiculous. Credit where it’s due, Empire’s Luke Steele looked pretty ludicrous in The Sleepy Jackson too, so he’s no mere copycat. He and his PR people have just grabbed the main chance.

I dunno, though – this doesn’t amount to much. It’s catchy, but I can’t help slipping into Starship’s ‘We Built This City’ every time I try to sing along. Is that a bad thing? That might not be a bad thing. Junior sings the last word of every line, like some sort of MGMT-copying-Empire-Of-The-Sun-copycat. I think that’s satire.

Tangling the web further, she saw Flight Of The Conchords gently putting the boot into EOTS (or was it MGMT?) yesterday and said, “I saw this before.”

Are you gonna leave me now?

Animal Collective, ‘Summertime Clothes’

Animal Collective

So it’s Junior’s fourth birthday. It seems only three and a half years and a bit since we were reviewing Antipop Consortium records together and plumping for Kanye West over Missy Elliott in the 2005 chart. How time flies, innit.

And in those few short years, Animal Collective have gone from quirky indie electronica nerds to quirky indie electronica nerds with something approaching proper tunes. There have always been squirts of brilliance, but 2009’s Merriweather Post Pavilion has pulled together more than most and set them to some full rave dynamics. The jaunty ‘Summertime Clothes’ isn’t the best single on it – mayyybbeee we’ll save one for the year-end chart – but it’s a ray of hope as everything goes haywire outside the window.

Newly grown-up Junior is more interested in the flashy magic eye madness on the album sleeve, gracing the song with a mere handclap or two. She’d have loved them at Glastonbury though, where they stole the show with disco lights and hands aloft and sent all my mates packing to buy their album.

AndIwaaaaannawaaaaalkarooouuundwithyou:

N.B. Coming soon(ish) – The Top 50 Singles of the 00s