(Single from album, "#willpower")
The first number 1 song reviewed on this blog, but perhaps the epitome of the modern UK charts; choked with substandard amateur drivel, with the best of the worst receiving recognition in a position that would normally represent genius or songwriting deity-like status.
Well, actually, this is unfair; the UK number one hasn’t fairly represented the week’s best song for well over 40 years, since the days of musical prodigies like The Beatles and The Rolling Stones – but every week now, the number one spot will be held by a new entry; we have the ‘fantastic’ MTV stand-in, YouTube, to ‘thank’ for this – routinely an artist will release the video a month prior to the song’s release ensuring the build up of enough hype to guarantee a no. 1 entry…
But less of the retail technics – as for the song itself - what does it say?
Well, perhaps unsurprisingly, nothing. No moral value, nothing intelligent – it’s your classic dance track, but the trouble with this song, is that it sounds like every other song around. Other genres don’t get a look in anymore – its just electronica as far as the ear can hear. This one tipped the iceberg for me; I’m a cult follower of the UK chart, and the lack of different, interesting tunes had me wound up for a while, but this caused a outburst of sheer anger that if I were to recreate it now, I would have access to a computer (and subsequently this blog) blocked for at least a decade whilst I attempted to pay for the damage I’d do to my humble surroundings in a, seemingly unjustified but ultimately essential and long-coming, fit of rage. That’s how bad this is…
The first thing you would notice is the lack of any real accomplishment in the sound; it’s very synthetic, and not in a good way like the programmed and homemade synthesizers of late 70s Sheffield; this is robotic, simple and, ultimately, as boring as it gets. You end up, after a couple of weeks of bleary chart show surveillance, feeling as though everybody has gone and shelled out on an auto tune and sold their soul in the process.
This isn’t the part, however, that gets to we, the ‘cultured listening community’ – the lyrics are meaningless. They consist of sexual innuendoes and ridiculous chants and jubilations of slang from the ghetto. The likes of Lily Allen and Tinie Tempah winning prestigious awards such as the Ivor Novello, once reserved for the legends of composition, is perhaps the biggest reminder of a culture dying before us, with these awards now dished out in a manor akin to that of ‘first come, first serve’; if you ask nicely, they’ll probably give you one, and the fact that you’re just a postman who knows a good record producer seems not to matter.
And what's with guest vocalists at the moment? Everyone's doing it - grabbing someone who can actually sing, throwing them in at the start of their song, ultimately selling their record with a good vocal, and then being muted as the talentless artist raps their way through the bleak an average instrumentals of the middle of the song, dropping expletives, consumerist titles and slang everywhere. Ugh...
In this particular case, will.i.am, (in)famous for his work with The Black Eyed Peas, shouts to his audience, asking them if they feel like he does which, surprise, surprise, is overtly sexual and desperate, before telling them he’s completely up for it and, through the help of the pointless guest vocalist, rapping his desire to consummate this interest in the audience. It really is juvenile and very poor in every respect.
The age-old argument in the world of music here makes its comeback. ‘Ok, pop is juvenile and silly – but who wants to be depressed by metal, or made morose by dark indie music?”. It’s a good point – some of the better music out there documents times clouded by negative emotion and this can be as destructive as these fields of unjustifiably pornographic pop records – but does feel-good music have to be stupid? Lacking in intelligence? Fast beats over sensible songwriting? No. Its ostentatious and without place in the world of music – there’s so much someone can explore and learn from this medium which has, in the last 50 years especially, become such an essential aspect of people’s lives. But it doesn’t have to be done this way, uneducated, without culture and almost totally brainless in its approaching a learning, critical audience.
Granted, in writing this, I’ve listened to it a few times, but I originally had very little desire to hear it again – after only one listen. The throbbing keyboards really got on my nerves and though I haven’t heard them yet, I assume the remixes are equally linear, machine made and devoid of interesting aspects as the original song, just 8 minutes long instead of the radio friendly, 4.
The innuendoes repeat and repeat and in the end as the final drum-machine roll sounds, I feel elated that the experience is over.
And still, the masses just click ‘re-wind’ and listen again, and this is perhaps, even worse than the song itself. will.i.am’s frankly stupid take on a love song exists in a place whereby it can easily have a big influence on impressionable people’s lives, mainly children and teenagers. It’s all the wrong stuff to be absorbing too, so there’s a real sense that they too will just keep buying the rubbish, ensuring a continuous stream of it comes my way, that is, until someone with any actual talent catches their interest. People become less and less critical and songs begin to sound more and more similar, and there’s a very frightening sense that pop music is on its knees. You get the occasionally phenomenal record, like Gotye’s “Somebody That I used To Know”, and this grabs people and they end up not knowing why – it’s because deep down, they know it’s a really good song, but something stops them from wanting to know more about these better examples of how their iPods can be refurbished – and that’s an unexplainable addiction to being seen listening to this week’s number 1 song…
★
Versions of "This Is Love"
Radio Edit – 4:07
Album Version – 4:41
Instrumental Edit - 4:07