Singles of the Week

Ah-hahahaha. Hahahhaha

Nick Lachey
What’s Left Of Me (Zomba / Sony/BMG)
What’s Left Of Me is possibly the first pop tune which doubles as its own, self-contained PR campaign. As pre-pubescent fans and socially retarded adults consider their options in the ‘should I take Nick or Jessica’s side?’ debate, Lachey strikes the first significant blow to Camp Jessica with this sickly whinge tune. Here’s hoping Jessica’s PR team consists of the type of people who think the ‘shut the fuck up and die’ approach would be an adequate response.

David Hasselhoff
Jump In My Car (Sony/BMG)
Postmodernism and irony have a lot to answer for in general, but when you combine it with persistent German fanaticism, you’re left with something rather scary. Note to The Hoff: it’s not funny any more. You were the subject of a concerted Internet spamming campaign because you’re an annoying, unrespected tool. You look more and more as if you were created by Madame Tussaud tripping on bad acid, and your cover of Jump In My Car is an insult to the memory of KITT, and talking cars in general.

Evermore
Running (Warner)
What is it with indie bands who go all earnest and soaring string-heavy on their post-success album? Oh, hang on, this is Evermore. That’s their thing. Apparently the folks down at Channel 7 were so impressed by the band’s performance on ‘Sunrise’ that they’ve bought the rights of the tune as the theme for the upcoming rugby season. In what should be an interesting new era for the sport, rugby players will now run up and down and into each other to a borderline-maudlin, falsetto-heavy soundtrack provided by skinny, musically inclined nerd-boys. Strange times.

The Kooks
Naïve (EMI)
With the ridiculously fast turnover of young bands in the modern musical environment, it shouldn’t really be surprising that a band’s third single is positioned as their ‘crossover release’. The Kooks’ Naive is the gentler tune which will see them fully embraced by commercial radio, after the snot-nosed rambunctiousness of Eddie’s Gun. Now, to the casual observer, they have become ‘another one of those British bands’, to be filed alongside Futureheads, Razorlight, etc.

The Cheats
Burn It Up (Independent)
The Cheats do the guitar-drum-vocal combo thing with the requisite amount of gusto, with vocalist Jules’s Kram-esque intonations adding something of interest to a familiar musical configuration. The Cheats’ DIY fuzz, brought to you by a collection of vintage amplifiers, is always going to sound superior across the visceral medium of live performance – assuming that denim, sunglasses and scrappy hair are more real in the flesh than on a CD sleeve.

Lady Sovereign
Hoodie (Shock)
Hoodie (AUS) (noun) – long-sleeved hooded top, generally preferred by skating types, even in the summer months.
Hoodie (UK) (noun) – long-sleeved hooded top, generally preferred by hip-hop inspired, lower class youth (see chavs) with a propensity for gathering in large groups in and around shopping centres, fast-food outlets, etc. Anonymity provided by the hoodie is said to evoke widespread social fears, particularly across large segments of conservative middle-England.
Hoodie (UK) (noun) – grime song by 18-year-old Lady Sovereign, inspired by second definition above. Rhymes ‘Hoodie’ with ‘woogie woogie’ in several instances, despite an apparent insistence that its intention is to engage with social issues. Features playful production from Basement Jaxx, and faux-Jamaican rapping voice. May become annoying.

SINGLE OF THE WEEK
Serena Maneesh
Drain Cosmetics (Playlouder / Remote Control)
Serena Maneesh is not an Indian sexual healer, just so you know. Rather, they are a dreamy, alternative rock band from Oslo, and their latest single, Drain Cosmetics, is rather good. This is something like JAMC gazing downward for an extended period, with Primal Scream driving the ship, all amidst the ethereal glow of an endless Scandinavian summer. Exhibiting sleaze and sweetness in equal measure, Drain Cosmetics is a work of fascinating contradiction, throwing out a heavenly kind of darkness, and perhaps pointing toward how Sigur Rós would have sounded if they had grown up in 1980s Manchester.