[17] Kasabian, ‘Bless This Acid House’

Kasabian-2017

A warm welcome for Leicester’s second finest after Riyad Mahrez who make their long-awaited Jukebox Junior debut that I thought would never come because they’re rubbish, let’s face it.

But there have always been a couple of good things about Kasabian. One is the way that Tom Meighan says “Isn’t that right, Serge?” after every statement he makes; the other is their position as British rock’s finest sloganeers. Any ordinary record immediately sounds more interesting when you call it ‘You’re In Love With A Psycho’. Any glam-pop knock-off is elevated by a Slade-ish chant of “She said, ‘God bless this acid house!’” This just makes me happy despite myself.

“I think if people are drowsy, this makes them hyper,” is the astute verdict from Junior 2. Big sister and original Jukebox Junior is pulling a ‘rock’ face and doing a Jagger-esque chickenhead, neatly summing up the Kasabians’ slavish devotion to their rock’n’roll lineage. We’ve got their number.

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[17] Maroon 5 featuring Christina Aguilera, ‘Moves Like Jagger’

Now this one’s all about ESP. Junior has her own special routine for this, a kind of backwards chicken dance that involves swinging her elbows behind her then bringing them forward in a clap. It’s either that gauche chap in the opening credits to The Young Doctors or it’s uncannily Jagger, and she’s not even seen the video. I can only assume it’s some freaky spiritual dancing osmosis from learning ballet at Dartford Grammar School’s Mick Jagger Centre. Seems plausible.

They’re a bit plain, aren’t they, Maroon 5? Adam Levine’s an ultra-buff Mick Hucknall leading an anonymous Simply Reddish collection of assured nobodies, turning out sleek germ-free pop-soul you can admire but never love. Um, except Simply Red are light years better, but the cold-eyed professionalism’s there anyway. I do like this one though, obviously; it’s so… so… VIP area. Slinking about behind a velvet rope while Christina glows like an amazing neon Stevie Nicks.

[9] Black Rebel Motorcycle Club, ‘Whatever Happened To My Rock ‘N’ Roll (Punk Song)’

Good start, cool name. Terrific single too (their third, or thereabouts), that suggested a searing balls-out rock pedigree, all full-throttle rhythm and piled-on guitars. I first heard about them when Charlatan Tim Burgess was bigging up this record on some radio show, and it could almost pass for one of his own – with Rob Levon Been’s sub-Jagger sneer a ringer for Burgess’s Manc-turned-Yank lip-curl – albeit a little more cranked-up than your standard Charlatans blues-pop.

It flattered to deceive. ‘Spread Your Love’, their next foray into the UK Top 30, sounded like ‘Spirit In The Sky’ and tepid albums gave way to a grasp at serious cred with third long-player Howl, an nth-generation tilt at rootsy blues. Who needs it?

The tidal wave of gee-tar prompted Junior to sling on the plastic Strat and rumble along with BRMC. Finding the jarring piano button on her axe, she was then moved to delve into the toy box for the pink keyboard, and the ensuing cacophony had Junior 2 looking aghast. Pure-spun rock’n’roll. It sounded like some godawful mash-up – appropriate in 2001, when the world and his wife were at it.

Reminds me – I must be the only man alive who doesn’t own 2 Many DJs’ As Heard On Radio Soulwax. Or, entirely unrelated, Röyksopp’s Melody A.M. Or Damien Rice’s O. Or Nevermind.