jaxxalude

Oh, feckin' shite, 5ive! Where to start? The laughable rap aspirations? The faux-macho posturing? The simple fact that they never really had anything close to actual tunes - bar "When The Lights Go Out", "Keep on Movin'" or, if I'm being charitable, "Let's Dance"? Anyway, "Everybody Get Up" is just typical of 5ive: the aforementioned rap aspirations, the over-reliance on over-familiar sampling material, the absolute air of half-heartedness about the whole affair. Quite how they managed to be so popular as to even achieve a double-platinum album with Invincible is beyond me! No one should expect too much out of Eurodance, ever. But even with limited expectations, this track is just pure unbridled litter! The faux-reggae backing, the incompetent MC, the no-voiced "diva"... really, if there's anything even remotely redeeming about this, tell me, because it just escapes me!

As one-offs go, this one is certainly up there with M/A/R/R/S's "Pump Up The Volume". The work of Daft Punk's Thomas Bangalter, Alan Braxe (who'd have a Top 40 hit in conjunction with Fred Falke two years later with the brilliant "Intro") and singer Benjamin Diamond, Stardust were, like many good things, a happy accident. Bangalter was DJing one of these nights, with Benjamin Diamond doing his thing singing over any instrumental parts. There, Bangalter plays Chaka Khan's "Fate" and Diamond starts improvising the now-famous words that are forever etched in the minds of all those who heard it in real time. Watching the crowd reaction, Bangalter pitched the idea of making a track from the very same premises and asked his pal Alan Braxe for help. The rest, as they say, is history. "Music Sounds Better With You" became a monster hit all over Europe, and deservedly so. Stardust took only the necessary parts from Chaka Khan, melding them perfectly together and creating a monster groove out of hit over a production so pristine, it almost felt like our ears were shining! On top of it, Benjamin Diamond sang lyrics which could be easily described, when heard attentively, as a love letter to E: Oooooh baby I feel right The music sounds better with you Love might Bring us both together I feel so good And so on. Think about it! Dear old me, there aren't words to describe how much I loathed (and still do) Steps! To be honest, I never really thought of them as being ABBA for the late century, but more as the worst parts of Bucks Fizz (i.e., everything not called "Land of Make Believe") and Brotherhood of Man (everything) with updated production. "One For Sorrow" was but one example of such putrid combination. I don't care what anyone says; for me, Steps represented not so much the return of "pure" pop so much as pop really eating itself. That this was masterminded by Pete Waterman was just proof that he should have just let the past be the past and rest content with the fact that, in the middle of a lot of forgettable fare, he did help to create some of pop's with a capital P greatest late 80's moments.

This (and a whole host of other tracks) is why no one was really sorry when Puffy/Puff Daddy/P. Diddy/Diddy/whatever faced possible jail time around 2000 over the whole nightclub fracas. OK, just taking the piss! :D Still, Sean Combs' fancy for taking whatever shopping mall favourites and turn them into lazy examples of sampling work was certainly on full display here. Whereas he used to take both musical backing AND chorus on other occasions, only the first is done here, if only because the original "Kashmir" didn't have a chorus to speak of. Still, the method was pretty much intact, as "Come With Me" was basically "Kashmir" redux with some inane babble done in Puffy's unmistakably limp style. And here it is: Sash!'s other decent tune in his life. Shame he hasn't done more like this, as "Mysterious Times" places him squarely on what should have been his territory since the very beginning and afterwards: straight-up POP music. And in that light, this track is almost a revelation, as Sash!'s trance-lite tendencies get filtered through Tina Cousins' longing vocals and an actual song that doesn't really say much, but does it stylishly. Unfortunately, as I already said, it would turn out to be a one-off for Sash!, as it was back to mediocrity land in no time.

The one thing that makes this song is the one that's already dead. That's right: ODB was the real reason anyone should care about this, as his gonzo delivery is what gives it the necessary gravitas to pull off what would be essentially a run-of-the-mill pop-rap fest, with a charisma-free rapper (Pras) leading the way and a non-entity like Mya in the chorus. Charisma, on the other hand, is something Will Smith shouldn't complain about too much. What he should complain about, though, is the fact that, as soon as he changed his rap moniker from The Fresh Prince into his birth name, his music increasingly took a turn to the dull as dishwater. Apparently that wasn't a problem for many, as the album which marked that transformation, Big Willie Style, easily became his biggest ever. Whether this particular fact had as much to do with his then recently newfound film celebrity as it had with his ever-increasing turn towards what could be described as MOR rap (and he was never a hardcore rapper to begin with) is certainly debatable. What's doesn't merit discussion, as far as I'm concerned, is another thing: where tunes like "Parents Just Don't Understand", "I Think I Can Beat Mike Tyson", "Summertime" and even "Boom! Shake The Room" and "Gettin' Jiggy Wit' It" were breezy good fun, others like "Just The Two of Us", "Miami" and a couple of others which we'll discuss later just fell listless and limp all around. Maybe money does make people too comfortable after all.

Hmmm, I'm on the fence with this one. Everything here screams standard-issue all over: the disco-flavoured handbag house beat, the two not-particularly memorable divas, the whole air of calculatedly-crafted hands-in-the-air dance anthem about it. And yet, "Horny" doesn't sound half-bad. Of course the lyrical content here is what it is, but no one goes to dance music expecting biting poetry of the Jarvis Cocker kind now, right? I guess it ends up being a decent tune for what it tries to achieve, which isn't really much and definitely not artistically ambitious. Just one thing, though: don't try to hail this as the dance classic that it really isn't, OK? In some ways, this song's promo pretty much gave it away. By parodying The Verve's iconic "Bittersweet Symphony" video, Fat Les managed to kill two rabbits at once: send up both the mind-numbing simplicity of football chants and the lad culture associated with them and pretty much football in general. The fact that this ended up being adopted as a football chant itself during England's dismal World Cup campaign (but haven't they all been post-1990?) probably proved its point even further. As such, you can't really fault this record for its apparent zaniness, as that was pretty much its principle anyway.

Another surefire contender for best #2 record of 1998, hands down! After a first half-decade in the semi-wilderness, Madonna came back smoother, better, slower, stronger. A combination of motherhood, Kabbalah, William Orbit and the finest set of songs since Like a Prayer gave her back her edge over any opponents, making sure that La Ciccone would secure a few more years in the Pop Throne. "Ray of Light" was certainly one of the better examples of her renewed sense of self. Even though there's a furious dance beat beneath, it's a song which exudes an inner peace in a way previous Madonna songs never really did. More than anything, though, "Ray of Light" is everything a true pop record should achieve to be: glorious and ambitious, panoramic and anthemic. An absolute classic! And here's contender #3 for best #2 record of 1998 - how golden was this year, exactly? Rodney "Darkchild" Jerkins had his first, and probably most lasting, hit record of his career here. And his authorial stamp was surely here: the lush, synthesized orchestral arrangements; the spacious atmospherics; the mild-mannered beats. All of this weaved together in a harmonious and inventive way, signalling what the next few years of unbridled creativity within American mainstream Urban music would be. On top of this, two teen-aged divas giving their mostly-subdued emotional all, fighting for their boy as if they saw him The One and Only for Life. Another absolute classic!

So, a chance to talk about the biggest pop phenomenon of the decade, eh? Tell you what: the Spices got everything right: the image, the concept, the whole wrapping, really. They just failed at the one single most important thing: the music. For all of their carefully constructed personas, the Spice Girls' music was memorable and full of hooks, alright; but it didn't mean that it wasn't quite limp-wristed in its construction and, really, a considerable afterthought in regards to everything else. "Stop!"'s poor nth-generation Motown pastiche was just as significant of such as any other song in their catalogue. Its failure to become #1 might be more a result of the backlash that had already set in by then. But one cannot underrate the fact that that same backlash was probably just as much to do with their audience finally realising how little substance there was in their whole shtick as it was with simple overexposure. One thing (among a lot, if we think about it) where me and Gezza/Dasher are at odds is rap. Unlike him, I'm a fan, through and through. Good thing that the #2 position was occupied by such a firing track, no pun intended! This was Busta Rhymes still on top of his game, spitting his signature stream-of-consciousness rhymes in his unmistakable mad-as-a-hatter style over the kind of sampling material few would still dare to tackle at the time. One thing must be said, though: this "Knight Rider Theme"-sampling track wasn't the song's original version, but rather a remix specifically created for single release and radio/video airplay. Still a prime contender for best #2 record of the year hands down, regardless.

If I recall correctly, this was the third and last single to be released from what was their second album to the world outside America, Backstreet's Back. And it sure felt like that, as "All I Have To Give" carries with it the distinct air of non-description. Produced by Full Force it might have been; but this was Full Force in the late 90's. Quite far from the ones who, along with Jam & Lewis, helped define the sound of American urban contemporary music in the mid 80's, laying the groundwork for what would become new jack swing's ultimate collision between R&B and hip-hop - thus setting the foundations for most of we now know as modern pop music. It's as if everybody involved (label, management, the boys themselves) wanted to hurry this album's promotion ASAP, since Mother America was finally taking to them in a big way and Backstreet's Back had already outsold the debut by almost double in half the time anyway. And here it was, Natalie Imbruglia seemed like she was actually emotionally involved with the material she was singing - the fact that she co-wrote it might have something to do with it. Still, Gezza/Dasher already exposed the problem very well: it wasn't so much that this wasn't where pop music was headed, more that this sounded like an Alanis Morissette doppelgänger two or three years too late. In itself, it's a perfect fit to explain Natalie Imbruglia's pop career issue: she always lacked a clear identity.

Don't ask me to repeatedly beat a dead horse, please! Let's put it this way: I didn't even remember this existed anymore! And now that I heard it again for aeons, I can see why: it's not really that memorable. It's a functional little handbag house record which, as already said, took advantage of the post-Xmas lull to grab itself a #2 placing. One thing, though: this samples "Get Down Tonight", indeed; but by KC & The Sunshine Band, NOT Kool & The Gang.

See my comment for "Ecuador". I can't quite tell if it was the massive overexposure this song got at the time that made me feel the way I do. But quite frankly, I find "Torn" to be a, er, torn in my side. Hey, one thing we can agree on: Natalie Imbruglia looks mighty good, whatever her hairstyle is! ^_^ But there's just something too flimsy about this that just can't manage to connect with me. I guess it's just that, for a song which speaks about a relationship achieving dead-end status, Imbruglia doesn't seem to actually sound very much engaged with the whole thing. Of course I'm not asking anyone to screech or put some over-dramatic spin on anything to somehow sound "emotional". But with such powerful lyrics, the delivery simply sounds staid and quite neutral, really. I guess the lyrical content was enough to connect it with listeners, as the song went on to become a monster hit all over the world. To be fair with her, it's just too bad she didn't have any hand at composing the song, or else she could be living pretty comfortably from its royalties by now. Such is this (torn) life!

You know what? Looking back, I have to concede that the Older album probably wasn't as impressive as mainstream pop got in 1996. Through the ears of today, it just sounds like someone desperately pleading to please, please take him seriously as an artist. Even the heavy-handed Listen Without Prejudice, vol. 1 didn't seem so determined to prove to us just how much of a "real" artist he was. Or maybe he just had better songs in Prejudice to back up his ambitions. All of this to say that, apart from "Fastlove", "Jesus to a Child" and the title-track, everything just seems designed to imply that not only you should take him up as a "proper" artist, you should also buy that he's more mature, as the album title itself screams so obviously. Too bad that George Michael's idea of maturity is such a stereotyped idea of sophistication and class. This single does nothing to change my perception, I'm afraid. This is pretty much The Dream Academy's "Life in a Northern Town"'s main hook set to a standard-issue superclub-era handbag house backing, innit? It's still better than everything he did afterwards, though - which doesn't really say much, but there you go. For all the talk of Be Here Now being a flop, it still sold bucket-loads, didn't it? But then, what could possibly topple (What's the Story) Morning Glory?'s numbers and cultural impact? Then again, there definitely was a sense that Oasis thought that cranking everything up to 11 would be the solution to move ahead. "Stand By Me", in many ways, was one of the guiltiest parties in this assumption. What sounded like the half-bred mutant child of "Wonderwall" and "Champagne Supernova" turned up as a nightmare to those of us who could forgive Oasis' obvious derivativeness because of how undeniable those hooks, that energy and that joie de vivre which poured out of their music. Here, that derivativeness degenerated into a band completely bored of itself and going through the motions, hoping that the loud guitars would somehow disguise the obvious lack of inspiration on show. It was the sound of a group falling apart at the seams and somehow knowing of their future as once-cultural behemoths turning into a tribute band to themselves. It wasn't pretty to witness!

C'est la vie, they say. And they said at the time that this wasn't really much of a cop. Looking back, I agree it isn't. It's definitely Robbie sounding like he's trying to find his feet out of the Take That prison and using Britpop as his safeboat. Better things would come along, of course, so "Old Before I Die" was just a tremulous beginning. Never had a lot of love for this in either the original album version or the '97 single edit. Even then the lyrics stroke me as pompous pontification coming from someone who wasn't exactly known for modest behaviour or anything like it. The music, on the other hand, was competent enough mainstream pop, but nothing more. Now THIS is more like it! I had already heard this back in its original Summer '96 release and, quite frankly, I was just amazed at how it didn't become a hit-single right there and then, such was its ear-catching mass appeal so evident. Of course closer inspection reveals this song to be as masochistic as can be, especially in its infamous "pretend that you love me" line. But then that was exactly part of its charm: that such disturbing lyrics could be dressed up under a cod-disco pop backing. Of course such peculiarity could only result in The Cardigans falling into pretty much one-hit wonder status, as their music was always a bit off-centre to really sustain a prolonged life in the limelight. Being a continental European, I was already pretty well familiar with this rubbish. This piece of over-dramatic popera bears all the hallmarks that gave Andrew Lloyd-Webber's musicals such a dubious fame, as it indulges itself in pretty much any cliché it pleases, adding insult to injury by doing it with all the pomp of those who seem to think they have something really important to say. Why such thing was a hit in the first place, I don't know! If you're going to over-blow everything, might as well do it in style! Even in those Britpop-heavy days, the thought of what had been once a third-tier indie/guitar act which had just reunited achieving such prominent success would be considered unlikely. But that's exactly what happened, and you can truly say that, however good some of their earlier singles had been ("All In The Mind", "Slide Away", "On Your Own" and "History" in particular), "Bitter Sweet Symphony" was another level altogether. Where most Britpop acts seemed content to ape their parents' record collection in a dispirited way, The Verve actually seemed to take those classicist influences and dress them up in a way where ambition and contemporaneity were jolly good partners. This song in particular drove that point home better than most, by taking the strings out of Andrew Loog Oldham's take on The Rolling Stones' "The Last Time" and looping it to a beat that could be best described as DJ Shadow morphed into a classic rock band format. It could have been a disaster, but it wasn't. Far from it, actually. It was a brilliant tune, through and through, full of gravitas, purpose and inspiration. Of course, it was all to go down it one fell swoop, starting with the Andrew Loog-Oldham royalties story. It was just a sign of how fast The Verve's second life (and their one in the Sun) was to be. Wherein Sash's full-blown descent into LCD mediocrity started. Allow me to have a pet theory about why Hollywood's take on Mr. Bean was such rubbish: it had Boyzone on the soundtrack. Another one which, being a continental European, I was very well familiar with by the time it hit the success trail in the UK. Let me just say that the best thing about this song is the face on the single's cover. And I have a feeling some of you will actually agree with me. ^_^ I guess Chumbawamba wanted a little piece of the action too. Or maybe it's just too easy to see this as just another drinking song, when the famous chorus "I get knocked down, but I get up again/You're never going to keep me down" probably points you to another meaning in the song: that however you try to push it down, the working-class always finds a way to resist and, when seeing the chance, to fight back against the pricks. Of course Chumbawamba's place in the mainstream spotlight was never meant to be lengthy, but it surely was fun for a lot of us while it lasted.

The lyrics here are really an afterthought; it's all about those furious guitars and those pounding, relentless drums. It has a chorus, yes; but it actually doesn't feel like your typical verse-chorus-verse tune. In some ways, Supergrass seemed to know that the false dawn of Britpop was already becoming an all too inevitable sunset and went supernova weird - by their unpretentious standards, anyway. It most probably reached this high because of fanbase dedication and expectations borne of I Should Coco's big success, but have no doubt: this move was needed. And so it went that the little band that couldn't actually had more longevity than most of those who were seen as the forerunners, only terminating their activities last year. And here's another band that did the sensible thing and reached out of the comfort zone, in case they wanted to have a career outside of a short-lived "movement". Much was made of how "Song 2" sounded like either a homage, a pastiche, an ironic twist or just a straight-up jacking of Nirvana. No matter: "Song 2" brimmed with an energy, a vitality and a joy that seemed so absent from The Great Escape. It was also a testimony of what would become Damon Albarn himself's modus operandi from then on: take whatever fancy he was having at some given point and insert it in your own work. At the time, it was the American indie lo-fi scene, with Pavement at the forefront of his obsessions, even going so far as to strike up a friendship with frontman Stephen Malkmus. The pay-off was quite the one: Albarn caught Malkmus shagging his then-girlfriend Justine Frischmann of Elastica!

"Na-na-na-na-na-na-na Na-na-na-na-na, baby Na-na-na-na-na-na-na" "Brazen with ideas" indeed. It's just that that brazenness was from the very beginning. "Pardon, Monsieur, le disc-jockey Sash! est de retour". Question was, return from what? From a complete flop of a first single called "It's My Life", that's what. And hereby I say that this is one of only two Sash! songs I have time for - we'll have time for the other. In this, Sash! still isn't ready to completely fall into the LCD conundrum into which he more than happily joined once the money started pouring and he probably sought to maintain a certain lifestyle. Yes, it's Eurodance, but with some "proper" clubbing music pretensions still retained in the form of a punishing beat and a furious synth groove, laid along by Sabine Ohmes part ominous, part ravaged vocals. As the "Raindrops" revamp showed, it's still Sash!'s most fondly remembered tune to this day, and for a very good reason. For a song which took the Tina Tur... oh, wait! This is more like it: for a song which took the Bob Marley, etc. ...that this is another shot of dullness?! And with this, I'm FINALLY in tandem with the thread! :lol:

What did I say about nepotism previously?... Like I previously said, looking at the History of Pop through the lens of the charts can sometimes give you some surprises. Almost any recount of the era will tell you it was almost all about Britpop and occasionally the rise of the superclub era in dance music. For some reason, they tend to shove aside facts like the most successful George Michael solo album in the UK being from this same era. As people say: whatever. What needs to be said though is that "Spinning The Wheel" isn't one of the strongest cases for Older's success. Not a bad song by any means, just a tad bit too cocktail lounge-sounding to truly hit any buttons, despite its suggestive lyrics. FINALLY! One of the main reasons for my strong scepticism towards Britpop is here. I mean, was there an act as devoid of real personality and as much up its own arse and derivative as all hell as Kula Shaker? Probably there was, but none as readily mockable as them. Nothing against showing your love for Indian culture, it's just that the way they did it sounded far more like appropriation and a gimmick rather than genuine affection. Besides, didn't "Hey Dude" sound more like a pre-metal Deep Purple rip-off than anything else? In many ways, East 17's writing was already on the wall. This standard-issue cover of the great Shai original just furthered that point even more, with the whole "I took X amount of E's in one night" bollocks just serving as a nice excuse to just hasten the downfall. As for poor Gabrielle, what was she doing here exactly? For a song which took the Tina Turner original and adapted it to serve as a critique of music industry politics, the execution actually sounded as cynical as Warren G's recounts. Furthermore, this one might be one the active responsibles for the deluge of half-arsed karaoke rap records that followed and of which the then Puff Daddy was the biggest repeat offender. Speaking of which... If Toni Braxton actually had a hand in songwriting, maybe she wouldn't be declaring bankruptcy as often as she does, for this song is now serving as one of the multiple of Babyface's pension funds. Anyway, "Un-Break My Heart" might have been a big hit, but it just doesn't do a lot for me, I'm afraid. It's one of those typical AC-friendly ballads that once in a while seems to click with the public, however full of clichés and/or half-hearted turns of phrase they are.

Like I previously said, there were some things I liked about Britpop, namely a fair number of singles. You guessed it: this was one of them. In what constituted a proof that even the most uselessly derivative of acts have the right to brilliance, Bluetones defied all expectations to deliver this jaunty and undeniably catchy-as-all-hell number, a love-gone-wrong song dressed as a happy-go-lucky summery song. No need to dress it up. 3T were only temporarily successful for one reason, and one reason only: nepotism. That said, "Anything" wasn't half-bad; it was a passable piece of love-longing in form of a standard-issue mid-90's pop&B slow-jam. It doesn't really hold up in terms of long-term appeal, but it doesn't really shame any of the involved. The next singles, though... This one seemed kind of like a big deal then. And with the benefit of hindsight, we can surely agree that it DID become an even bigger deal afterwards. No matter where you stand in terms of preference, it's undeniable that "Children" had a very active part (for both good and bad) in opening the doors for the late-90's Eurotrance trend. As for me, not only do I not mind, I definitely enjoy it quite much. I certainly loathed it much more at the time, when the combination of overplaying and a temporary surge of half-baked knockoffs (including from the man himself) made me turn off of it a lot. As Gezza said, it was nice as a 30-second snippet, not so much as a full-length single, as it just droned on and on and on. As they say, some bad things turn out good. Richey Edwards had disappeared almost exactly one year previously and all bets were on to see if the Manics would survive such a challenge, as he was not only one of the band's main songwriters but also (and that's pretty much undeniable) their main attention drawer/selling point. In the name of justice, it must be said that almost half of the lyrics on Everything Must Go came from Edwards, so that part wasn't really much of an issue. What was at stake though was the fact that they had lost what was pretty much their most charismatic member. Turned out that Richey's disappearance almost seemed to add not only an even bigger gravitas to the band, it ended up (unintentionally, I'd pretty much wager) serving as an attention-grabbing gimmick in itself, securing the Manics their biggest album to date and, in this single, also their biggest hit. It's not much use to debate if this song really did deserve that accolade; I think it's rather more useful to point out how utterly brilliant and majestic the song is. In a year where Britpop had inevitably turned into a big karaoke party, the Manics pretty much constituted a lesson in how to make classicist rock without having to resort to miming your parents' record collection. Of course this is better than 98% of Britpop, but that's far from its point. They key, of course, is in the infamous "lager, lager, lager" shout. Besides being a reference to the film it soundtracked (Trainspotting, in case you have forgotten) and to Begbie's drinking problem in particular, it was a reminder of an even more important message: that alcohol might probably do even more harm than E could ever do, and yet it's legal. Or in other words: maybe criminalising drugs isn't really the correct policy, you know. As far as cries of freedom go, this one feels quite trapped, thank you very much! You mean you don't see the obvious contradiction in crying freedom from an act where you weren't allowed any songwriting input and start your solo career with a cover? To each its own, I guess... This was already kind of old news in continental Europe by the time it reached its peak in the UK, so I guess the Mediterranean holiday ritual played a part here. I guess there really is no point discussing the artistic validity of this, as I'd wager it was never meant as such in the first place. But you could dance and have a laugh to it, so I guess it did the trick and then some.

Guys, could you wait for me? I have 1996 to do and then I can finally catch up! -_-

Where the switch was complete: instead of Jovi following Leppard's steps, it became the other way around. Yup, how the mighty have fallen and never really came back up! Wherein Meat Loaf got back to his irrelevance. Good riddance! Why don't some people just let the dead be? "What's a wonderwall anyway?", sang Fran Healy four years later. In the name of fairness, this is a brilliant song by any means. Yes, the lyrics are vage, as are Oasis lyrics in general. But Liam sings it as if his life was dependent on it and the melody is just too strong and too affecting to be denied. Too bad the video was such rubbish, but hey, nothing's perfect. Why don't some people just let the dead be, part 2. I said enough about Boyzone already. But really, covering such a song when you're barely of clubbing and/or drinking age and with no children of your own? OK... It was a funny joke... for a week or two, mind!

I certainly prefer this disjointed, almost uncertain era of U2 to the ultra-conservative, self-important, self-mythologising U2 of 2000 to today. They might not have always hit the right notes during the 90's, but at least it seemed like they were trying to challenge themselves and settle into a comfortable groove. So where does this leave "Hold Me, Thrill Me, Kiss Me, Kill Me"? Somewhere in the middle, I guess. Halfway between Achtung Baby and the coming controversial dance experiments of Pop, it was U2 somehow in transition mode. And all the better for it, really, whether this was tied to the beginning of the end of the worth of the first batch of Batman films or not. Remember what I wrote about Britpop? Well, you can forget it for a little while. However derivative this was of The Small Faces, the unconstrained joie de vivre Supergrass so clearly show in this song is just too much for you to resist. Furthermore, it was the perfect soundtrack to a Summer where you just knew the Tory bast*rds fall from grace was just around the corner and optimism was in the air. No need to tell where all that sense of joy went afterwards; but for the time, it seemed really possible that everything could change. Now this was a surprise in the most negative way. I came to it expecting it to sound just as good (if not even better) than it did back then. Alas, it wasn't meant to be and time and distance show how absolutely limp-wristed this song is. I guess its soundtrack tie-in with half-surprising Summer blockbuster Bad Boys was the thing that made its success possible. Otherwise, I just can't see the appeal in this half-baked confection of R&B and dancehall. Another one I expected to sound better after all these years than it did end up. Unlike "Don't Give Me Your Life", this just sounds too connected to a certain superclub era (this screams "Cream anthem" to a tee!) to really hold up today. And here it is, the infamous Britpop Battle. One which Oasis were just condemned to lose, as the limp trad-rock of "Roll With It" was no match for "Country House"'s sneering critique of the emptiness of superstardom dressed as a jolly Summer anthem. Listen to your mother when she says that if you don't have anything good to say, then don't say it! Let's just put it this way: the whole tabloid hysteria around "Sorted..." just proved the song's point even further. How's that for a show of the near-genius of Jarvis?

And so it started with a whimper! Appropriately so, in more ways than one, I must add. It must not have been totally intentional. But starting out with an Osmonds cover should really tell you what the feck was going on here, as the Osmonds were nothing but the flavourless (and yes, White) answer to The Jackson 5. Similarly (and unaware were we all of what came next), Boyzone were Take That minus the clever gay subtexts/duality (no, Gately's coming out doesn't have anything to do with anything whatsoever) or, well, a talented songwriter like Gary Barlow. It would take a reunion and the untimely death of Gately to lend "Gave It All Away" some gravitas and, you know, give Boyzone a shot at a decent song. Absolutely, positevely love this! How could I not? The rave stabs, the silly euphoria, THAT synth in order with the disjointed beat. And on top of it, Kelly Llorena belting it out like there was no tomorrow. It was a pop record, alright, through and through. And this was where Annie Lennox, the MOR peddler, came out and never went away. Enough said. The JLS of their day. I could leave it at that, as it would be much funnier. But the fact is this song isn't that bad, really. Of course the innuendos are silly, but they came as a nice variation on the boyband concept, especially considering that the likes of Bad Boys Inc, Worlds Apart and Boyzone were active at the time! :puke2: They weren't the nice boys promising you roses, they were out for the prowl and let you know about it. And since honesty is the best policy... Of course MN8 could have left it at that, as the next singles were as paperthin as they could be. I guess one of my biggest personal surprises is to find out how much some of these superclub era dance tunes actually hold up better than I expected. Or maybe it's just my nostalgic side clouding my judgement, but let's not get too hung up on it. Previous single "Alex Party (Read My Lips)" didn't age that much either. As for Alex Natale's next singles though... And we all thought dusting up songs from the past because of commercials ended when Levi's made a U-turn and adopted Biosphere's astounding "Novelty Waves" to soundtrack one of its campaigns. Turns out the beast wasn't entirely dead after all! First of all, a disclaimer: I have a love/hate relationship with Britpop. I think there were some good things coming out of it. But let's face it: Britpop was a false new dawn, a facsimile of a revolution; on the whole, it was as reactionary a "movement" as they come musically speaking. But most importantly, its long-term effects on British music (and the indie scene in particular) aren't that dissimilar to what grunge did to the alternative scene in America: it corporatised something which had been genuinely counter-cultural at one point. Call me hyperbolic, but if such things as "landfill indie" and "mortgage rock" exist, you can squarely blame them on Britpop's staid attitude. That said, Pulp were always an exception. Unlike others, they weren't afraid of appearing literate, and yes, pretentious. Furthermore, instead of just aping their influences, Pulp wisely chose to take them and subtly turn their original spirit around. "Common People" was such an example, as Manifesto-era Roxy Music got rid of its hedonistic vibes and put clever, sarcastic social critique in its place. There's no need to emphasize how bloody brilliant the lyrics were and how Jarvis delivered them with all the style and panache only he could. A timeless piece of music!

Now THIS is proper chart Jamaica! A lovers rock rhythm, an inspired toasting (that's what they call rapping in the Treasure Isle) by Red Dragon and smooth crooning from Tony & Brian Gold was all it took to capture the British public imagination. But it sure was enough, as it was one irie shot to nice up di dance, bwoy. Gwan! :D And here was Kylie, mk. III! Signing with prestigious dance label deConstruction, La Minogue now attempted a dance-based renaissance, having flown finally free from S/A/W's clutches. For a little while it worked, as this shot directly to #2 and seemed to signal a new era for her; one where top of the pops longevity AND credibility seemed really possible. Alas, it wasn't to be (for the rest of the decade anyway), as follow-ups complied with the Law of Diminishing Returns. But maybe that stroll around the desert was necessary, as it probably gave her the kick up the bum (quite literally sometimes) she needed to come back strong once the 1990's ended. Being a continental European myself, I was already well familiar with this by the time it hit the success trail in the UK. What I could use though was the UK's (and a few months later America's) edit of the song, as it made it feel far more rounded and complete than the quite tinny original. Still, I was a bit surprised to find out how this actually holds up quite nicely these days. Out of curiosity, I listened to all of Corona's other singles - I shouldn't have bothered, as they all belong to that era and that era alone! As I said earlier, Bon Jovi managed to change their sound and attitude in both the right doses and at the right time, unlike other pop-metal bands of their ilk, like the aforementioned Def Leppard. That didn't mean it was a change for the better, as "Always" symbolised everything that Jovi became known for later down the road: adult contemporary-friendly dullness of the highest order. But it paid the bills and guaranteed them another slew of hits, which come in handy when you're one of the most successful touring acts of the last few years. A big hit this was back then. Too bad it just sounds so dull and unremarkable these days. Best leave it there, really. Let's face it: such high expectations could never be fulfilled. And yet "Love Spreads" disappointed nonetheless, as it was a piss-poor stab at Zeppelin-esque rock not worthy of the band that had made classicist guitar pop sound modern and important with their brilliant debut album and their even more brilliant "Fool's Gold" single. And sure enough, the Second Coming album was very much a letdown. As Gezza rightfully said, this is Mariah's pension fund. It's just not less insufferable because of it after all these years!

I could pretty much cut my "Please Forgive Me" comment and paste it here. The only things deserving of being pointed are the fact that this was part of the zillionth The Three Musketeers film adaptation soundtrack and that he roped in Rod Stewart and Sting - thus making them one, two, three musketeers, geddit? And thus began Toni Braxton's run of 90's success in Britain and the rest of Europe - the Babyface duet "Give You My Heart" and "Another Sad Love Song" already had been Top 40 hits in America for her, with the latter going Top 10. Still far from "Un-Break My Heart's" runaway smash status, yes, but nonetheless a solid hit she had with "Breathe Again". And was it any cop? Not really, to be very honest. It was quite a run-of-the-mill R&B mid-tempo jam with enough of an adult contemporary vibe for it to crossover to a Pop audience and especially Europe, as American Urban music still wasn't that saleable around these shore at the time. When you take time to think about it, Ace of Base were quite an alien at the time. Not really Eurodance but not "proper" pop either, they stood somewhere in the middle. And in a musical scenario where a clear trend wasn't dominating at the core centre, multi-format appeal like this came went down like a blessing for all concerned in the industry. So it was that Ace of Base managed to bag a splendid run in the 1993/94 season, with their singles routinely going Top 10 and the Happy Nation album doing solid business itself. As for this song, you can say it's pretty much a condensation of everything that sold singles in Britain back then: a little Euro flavour here, a little pure pop there and a twist of Jamaican influences thrown in for good measure and voilà, a surefire hit single was borne! We were just mere months away from the double attack of Portishead's Dummy and Massive Attack's much anticipated second album Protection. And just what does this have to do with The Boss? Well, in some ways, "Streets of Philadelphia" had some trip-hop flavour to it just before those two albums made the term common currency. The slow-mo hip-hop beat, the eerie atmosphere, the orchestral touches, it's all pretty much there, really, just in a more streamlined, mainstream-friendly version. As such, it was quite a departure from the usual roots-rock-based material The Boss made his fortune from. Of course being tied to an Oscar-nominated film like Philadelphia helped it in spades, but you can't deny the sheer brilliance of this song. Not a matter of opinion, but pure fact: this is the most bovine song ever to make to any chart. Now that we got this out of the way, let's get on with the matter at hand. And I say this is quite a fine song, actually. This triple-tale of down-on-their-luck kids set to a very left-of-center (even for those "alternative"-friendly days) backing certainly stuck out in the middle of all the dance, teen-pop and MOR clogging the charts. On the other hand, being so unique was probably CTD's very own loss, as they couldn't simply follow up such a tune in the charts game. But hey, more than being one-hit wonders, they're one-decent-song status better than most! In the middle of the second consecutive Jamaican Summer, it's a bit heartening that some of the biggest hits in this trend were actually some of the worst! In many ways, Big Mountain weren't so much an American reggae band insomuch as they were an MOR act big on reggae - which is basically another way to say they were America's own answer to post-1986 UB40, with the penchant for cover versions and all - in this case, Peter Frampton's well known 70's staple. And yes, this was also another film tie-in, as this was one of the songs to the soundtrack of the generation-defining Reality Bites - which definitely helped it along the way. Even so, it would always be hard for such a non-entity like Big Mountain to follow up a hit cover. They did try one more time with another cover in 1995 - the Chet Powers original (popularized by The Youngbloods) "Get Together". Alas, it only reached #44 on the Hot 100, sealing their fate once and for all. My sweet Lord, what year was this, 1986 or something? Because that's what this song sounded like: a Lionel Richie outtake that even Mr. MOR himself would deem too drippy for release. The truth of the matter is that this was a cover of a song first recorded by then rising country music star John Michael Montgomery, which had reached the summit in its respective component chart in America a few months prior. And alas, I guess I was in the very minority, as this David Foster-produced take by the R&B vocal quarted All-4-One stormed to #1 in their homeland and into the top of the charts pretty much everywhere. Still, it's soap opera soundtrack fare at its worst, always and forever. As someone already pointed out, Let Loose were, for a short time, the kind of boyband it was actually alright to like. Of course, the fallacious (because never a good criteria for valuing whatever it is) fact that they were an act who could actually play their own instruments instead of just singing and performing choreographies somehow helped in that perception. Still, "proper" boyband or not, "Crazy For You" was the kind of song that you just couldn't deny. It had been released once in 1993, to no big avail. Thanks to a slightly altered remix, it finally reached mass success, only to become one of five songs to be denied the top spot by That Other Soundtrack Single Which Shall Remain Nameless. Oh well, such is life!

I've now noticed I left Kylie's "Give Me Just a Little More Time" slip by. And you know what? I'm not terribly bothered by that, as it's not that much of a tune in the first place. So I guess we'll leave it at that.

This is one of those dance tracks that still gets remixed/revamped/etc. from time to time, but never with the same success. Quite frankly, it's one of those tracks that, at this distance, seems to leave me cold for a reason. It's not a bad dance track (or even a pop record) per se, but there's just something seriously lacking here. The one good thing about this is that the singer in it, Diane Charlemagne, would be borrowing her vocals to some of the tracks in Goldie's utterly classic Timeless album in two years' time. In the Jamaican Summer of 1993, I'd say there were definitely better tunes than this one. Still, it's a nice enough one, with Bitty crooning longingly over a vintage lovers rock rhythm. If it came on the radio by chance these days (and it doesn't much often), I'd wager I wouldn't change the station by any means. I still hold Very (and previous album Behaviour) as the jewels in the crown of PSB's entire long-form oeuvre. As such, the appearance of "Go West" is more than welcome to me. This happily twisted reading of the Village People's camp original certainly stands as one of the best examples of what became PSB's specialty: take what's commonly thought of as garbage and put a cutting, very intelligent reading on it. And as far as turning shite into shine, you can hardly do better than this! Taking us back to the days when the "M" in them didn't mean MOR Makes Money. Or something. Anyway, apart from being their one sniff at an American hit (#34 practically a year to the letter later), "Moving on Up" is also one of the best examples of the disco (and 70's) revival going on at the time. Unlike those dreary Sister Sledge and Gloria Gaynor remixes being released then, this is disco moving on up (ha!) into the present and acknowledging its debt in launching house music into the world. The fact that it did in the best possible way by pouring a little pop craftsmanship over it was just the cherry on top. There's just no other way around it: this is a product of its time. Borrowing heavily from Alphaville's "Sounds Like a Melody" synth line and adding a vocal sample from JM Silk's "Let The Music Take Control" as its main hook, "U Got 2 Let the Music" would never win any awards for creativity, no matter what material it sampled. It was a generic club groove, not really Eurodance as such, but also not really "proper" house music either, as was a lot of Italian-made dance music then. It tried to be all things to all people, and apparently it worked, as this #2 placing indicates. Unfortunately for Cappella, when they went full-on Eurodance, chart positions started dwindling and thus was their short brief in the limelight. I guess That Song That Shall Remain Nameless pointed the way. And judging from what I recently heard from him, it's not as if he's in a hurry to get out of there any time soon. Too bad the music got lost on the way to the cash register, then. They say you can't make magic twice. And sure enough, "True Love" was no "Don't Go Breaking My Heart". It was the type of song which was appropriate to the very season we're in the midst now, simple background music to accompany your Xmas shopping. And as such, it was promptly forgotten once January blues set in.

Quite frankly, I don't see anything particularly wrong with this. Then again, my slant towards breakbeat hardcore probably helps in my view of this track. I'm not sure if anyone pointed this out, but "Exterminate!" isn't so much a remix but an almost complete reshuffling of album track "Ex-Terminator". Nikki Harris was then a new addition to the panel of Snap!'s singers/collaborators, as both Turbo B. and Thea Austin had left by the end of 1992; so this single was, in many ways, a Nikki introduction as a "member" of Snap!. But as I was saying, I don't see anything particularly wrong with this track. It might not be your average verse-chorus-verse dance tune, but it only adds to its period charms. On the other hand, I agree that it also bears too many marks of its time to truly stand up. But as a timepiece snapshot, it's certainly a deserving ditty. In retrospect, the decision to remix this track for single release in a new jack swing-style which was already starting to sound dated by early 1993 wasn't the wisest one, as all those who only heard this song through the radio or MTV Europe would think of it as dull. The original, piano-led minimal version though is an unheralded piece of pop craftsmanship, pointing towards Gary Barlow's emancipation as a songwriter of worth in the near future. As someone rightfully pointed out, this was to Dangerous what "Dirty Diana" was to Bad - and "Beat It" was to Thriller too. And while "Give in to Me" was quite the decent song, this game of parallels also illustrates just why Michael was starting to be seen as passé by this point, however successful he continued to be. In many ways, Thriller was both a blessing and a curse, as Michael seemed content to mirror that record's formulas and adapt them to current trends just slightly so as to not completely lose touch. It was enough for a few moments of pop craftsmanship, but the fact of the matter was that Jackson no longer signified the centre of pop's heart. He was an icon, and one who managed ride on it to have the kind of success during the 90's others would die for. But we all know that wasn't really enough for him, right? Ah, what to say about this? A Canadian white bloke delivering a cod-ragga tune, then. Much was made out of it back then, enough to basically condemn Snow to one-hit wonder status. But you know what? It's not half-bad. Of course the next couple of singles are best left forgotten as they already are, but "Informer" was a decent-enough piece of not-really-ragga. The same way "Better The Devil You Know" marked a transformation in Kylie, so did this in Janet. The OTT bent was gone, in favour of a more sensual approach. Furthermore, "That's The Way Love Goes" was, musically speaking, in thrall with what was happening in American R&B at the time, when new jack swing was already considered the past and an edgier brand dubbed hip-hop soul was emerging strongly. Thus it was the right change at the right time, securing Janet with a very much deserved sultry hit single which would pave the way to a decade where it seemed like she could do no wrong. Until... If you ask any of your American friends who were the same age as us at the time, they'll more than happily link this song to the famous (and hysterically funny, it must be said) "Roxbury Guys" sketches of Saturday Night Live in the mid-90's. Those of us with a European origin though will more than happily link this song to what was one of the most timeless songs of the Eurodance genre - and let's face it, there aren't many of them! It's probably Haddaway's only real song of worth in his catalogue, but how worthy is this? A lot, I say! And the secret is in its insidious melody, as classicist as any Eurodance song might get. So if you still look at this from a guilty pleasure standpoint, I say you should just relax, let it all out and just enjoy it for its sake, bugger! Dear Lord, how overplayed was this on radio and MTV Europe? You don't have to answer this, it's a rhetorical question. And sure enough, what is clear to me is how absolutely calculated this song sounded. Even with its relatively stripped-down arrangements, "What's Up?" sounds for the whole world as some 1989 AOR group hurriedly applying some earthy alternative rock stylings so as to fit in with whatever was going on in commercial rock music at the time. Apparently the whole world was fooled, but only for a little while, as 4 Non Blondes had trouble following it up with other hits. But i do remember Bigger, Better, Faster, More! not selling badly at the time.