Extreme Listening Mode!

Hola amigos, yes, it’s Friday and let us all be joyful. Another week closer to the grave, you may say, but while the sun threatens to shine and there’s time to dream, well, let’s do so. This week’s Top 5 is inspired by those acts who were better in theory than on CD. The poseurs, the guys who jumped on the bandwagon, the Emperor eventually found to be bollock. Let us remember them for the haircuts, the manifestos, the sheer brass-neck and let’s all politely ignore the music.

The Dave Clark 5 – London’s answer to The Beatles. Well, more some 60 year old retired ex-Colonel’s idea of The Beatles. All teeth and lovely hair, they stomped their way through a few forgettable hits, desperately trying to peddle Merseybeat and just not really getting it. As is always proved when a record label cynically apes an act they fundamentally do not understand, it starts off well then dies on its arse. Nothing puts an audience off more than the faint but unmistakeable whiff of desperation – “we don’t get this shit you like; will this do? Pleeeeeeeeease buy it!” Long gone and best forgotten.

Sigue Sigue Sputnik – Looking back, it is hard to suspect that this wasn’t just one collossal piss-take. Taking their inspiration from Frankie Goes To Hollywood (or, if you prefer, blatantly ripping off their ideas) they too had the ex-muso PR person (Magenta De Vine taking the Paul Morley role), they had their own sense of style (they looked like Terrahawks puppets Gerry Anderson had discarded for being too garish) but sadly, they didn’t have the tunes. They were complete, unadulterated shite. Head honcho Tony James was previously in Generation X; staggeringly, this means that Billy Idol’s solo career was not the worst thing to come out of that band. Think about that.

Menswear – Ah, those pesky record labels do it again. In the mid-90′s Britpop was in full swing, Blur were scene Royalty and the joke went that even drinking in the same pub as them would get you signed. Except it wasn’t a joke. It was absolutely true in this mob’s case. Yes, because they hailed from Camden and knew Alex James Menswear had a deal before they had played their first gig. Honestly. Were they any good? No. Of course not, don’t be so bloody silly. If having the right haircut and looking a bit tittish was enough to guarantee success, I’d be the most succesful A&R man in the world by simply hanging about most Universities. That they died a slow and painful death is, in my humble opinion, a testament to the ethics and good taste of the music fans of this country.

Mika – He’s, like six feet six! And gay! And comes from, like, the Middle East! Well, he’s just got to be good, right? No. His physical attributes, his sexuality, the accident of geography that is his birthplace – how in the name of all that is holy can that make you a good songwriter? A pathetic attempt to cash in on the Scissor Sisters success, this novelty act is a joke which has worn way, way too thin.

Duffy – Faceless Major Label Boardroom. Sales are down. What to do? Well, that Winehouse girl is selling an ungodly amount of records with an old-fashioned soul sound, but she’s a bit of a bugger to control. What to do? I know! We’ll get some fame-hungry ex-reality show contestant with the moral code of a demented mongoose and the dignity of an eating contest winner and get her banging out some ersatz soul. We’ll put tons of cash behind it, which means Radio 1 will be all over it because the spineless bastards refuse to play anything unless it’s already guaranteed to do well. We know she will do what she is told, let’s face it, she’d fellate a relative if she thought it would get her on telly. Sorted!

Well, I’m sure they all had fun while it lasted even when, as in Menswear’s case, I’ve had longer headaches. But enough of my chirping – Enjoy the weekend people!