More Than We Needed To Know

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Funny isn’t it. Despite protestations from just about everyone you speak to that they don’t really care about Eurovision and it really doesn’t matter, the Song For Europe selection process appears to have become the big talking point following the weekend. Like it or loathe it, we all have an opinion. Would you really expect me to be any different?

I confess I didn’t see all of the show myself but even before it happened had to marvel at the parade of acts that had been lined up to perform. This is the problem the Eurovision Song Contest finds itself with as far as this country is concerned. After seeing Gemini flush their potential careers down the crapper in 2003, the number of up and coming acts with any ability who want to risk that kind of exposure is pretty much zero. Remove from the equation established acts who for the same reasons are unwilling to risk their reputation in the contest and you are left with what we ended up with on Saturday night – desperate hasbeens attempting to resurrect their careers with one final desperate throw of the dice.

How else did we end up with the spectacle of Justin Hawkins, Big Brovaz, Liz McLarnon and a warbling Brian Harvey, all scrabbing desperately at the toilet pan of fame before the final flush sends them swirling to oblivion. None of the ropey performances sounded like winners, although they surely weren’t helped by the atrocious production values of the show which meant hardly anyone had a working microphone.

In the end it came down to two. In an ideal world, Cyndi would have run out the winner. OK so her voice wasn’t quite up to the high notes the song called for but she would have perfected that with more rehearsal. The song itself was as derivative as they come (and I can’t have been the only one who started singing Rod Stewart’s “Rhythm Of My Heart” when the line in the chorus about “where the ocean meets the sky” came around) but just might have tugged at enough heartstrings across Europe.

Instead the voters went for what in retrospect was the obvious winner. The returning Scooch with a song that cranked the camp meter up to 11 and which was, let’s be frank, 70% dance routine and 30% chorus. In a sense it was classic Eurovision as a boy-girl-boy-girl act automatically conjures up fond memories of Brotherhood Of Man and Bucks Fizz. Quite whether this is really where the voting audiences across Europe are actually at is another matter altogether. The new Scooch were the same as the old Scooch from 2000. Seven years on pop music has moved on a long way since they stood a brief chance of fame by being Steps-lite. Let’s face it we went for high camp last year with Daz Sampson and the expected triumph turned into another miserable night in the voting.

There was a part of me that was pleased that the return of Scooch was greeted with such enthusiasm. Back in their brief first flowering of fame I had a soft spot for them as for all the naffness of their cheesy smiling image and the blatant desire of producers Mike Stock and Matt Aitken to ape what their former cohort Pete Waterman had done with Steps, the records they were given to sing actually weren’t half bad. Indeed looking back, had we been entering “More Than I Needed To Know” as a Eurovision entry at the time we probably would have stormed it. One former colleague of mine was fond of recounting how he was at one time in line to join the group only to be rejected at one of the final auditions. Looking back I think he felt he had a lucky escape.

So let’s set the wayback machine to 2000 and dig out some old commentaries on Scooch’s greatest hits… once upon a time these guys were expected to end up massive

November 6th 1999 – When My Baby (Number 24)

Introducing Natalie, Caroline, Russ and David, collectively known as Scooch and the latest Mike Stock and Matt Aitken pop creation. Their debut single bubbles along very pleasantly with an infectious party groove that you would expect to give the likes of Steps and S Club 7 a run for their money. In time that may happen but for the moment this is a rather understated chart debut for the foursome and possibly not quite what their creators had hoped for. Still, give them time. Even Steps were only able to creep into the Top 20 first time out and there is surely room for Steps-lite in the grand scheme of things isn’t there?

January 22nd 2000 – More Than I Needed To Know (Number 5)

Well it’s official. There is indeed room in the charts for both Steps and Scooch. The foursome first charted back in November last year with ‘When My Baby’, which could only reach Number 29. Second time around they do much better and have a massive hit on their hands with a single that confirms their musical path as the same Abba-inspired pop which has helped Steps to a string of massive hits over the past couple of years. Dare I point out that More Than I Needed To Know is actually a far better pop record than anything on Steps’ current album and fully deserves its place in the Top 5. It is probably pertinent to note that Scooch are produced by none other than Mike Stock and Matt Aitken, the former associates and recent litigants of Pete Waterman, who of course is one of the creators of Steps. Funny how that works out isn’t it?

May 6th 2000 – The Best Is Yet To Come (Number 12)

It seems so unfair to go on referring to Scooch as Steps-lite but at the end of the day that is quite unashmedly what they are and in truth they sound fantastic for it. Chart-wise the foursome appear to blow hot and cold, hitting Number 29 with their debut When My Baby last November and then charging to Number 5 with More Than I Needed To Know in January this year. This third single then falls between the two extremes, tucking in nicely just outside the Top 10. Not bad, but you could have been forgiven for expecting this piece of euro-friendly pop to land safely inside the 10. Maybe the inclusion of their version of Maybe Tomorrow (aka the theme from The Littlest Hobo and the NatWest TV ads) was an idea more naff than inspired.

August 5th 2000 – For Sure (Number 15)

Whilst we are on the subject of pop acts who haven’t quite clicked with the public, Scooch are still merrily treading their chosen furrow of being Steps’ own living, breathing tribute band. Mike Stock and Matt Aitken’s creations were last in the chart in May when ‘The Best Is Yet To Come’ reached Number 12 and now they too have a third Top 20 hit with their fourth single release. ‘For Sure’ may well rank as their catchiest release to date, even if radio appears to have largely ignored it, and you never know – with a worringly large number of people just waiting for the Steps bubble to burst and for the group to finally explode, Scooch are in prime position if the nation decides it needs a replacement.

Alas for them the nation didn’t and they weren’t, their album stiffed when released a few weeks later. The above quotes confirm that I did indeed have a soft spot for them. Bubblegum pop doesn’t offend me at all, it is after all what made me start loving music when I was but a mere child. Somehow though I can’t see the success that eluded them at the turn of the decade being any easier to achieve now, Eurovision or no Eurovision.

 

My First Ever Q&A

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Will I ever live this down?

As you may well be aware I spend my daytimes working for a well known national radio station. For reasons that I’ve never quite figured we seem to attract a disproportionate amount of attention from the masses on the net. Go to any media related discussion forum and you will find an abundance of threads and conversations relating to our presenters, what they have said, the programmes we put on and the things we are doing or not doing. None of this is a bad thing of course, in this business the worst thing about being talked about is not being talked about.

There is even a dedicated forum in existence which is viewed by just about everyone in the office with a mixture of fascination and amusement. Purportedly a site for fans of the radio station it is more or less entirely populated by people who appear to loathe the output and who complain endlessly about – you guessed it – our presenters, what they have said, the programmes we put on and things we are doing and not doing. Needless to say there isn’t a single person in the office who takes it seriously. The general view seems to be, if the people online think something is terrible then it is a reasonably good indication we are doing the right thing.

Quite aside from anything else, we get hundreds of texts, emails and phone calls every day from people who are eager to contribute to the programmes, delighting in what we are saying and recounting how much they love listening and being entertained by us. The only conclusion you can come to is that the people who like us really, really like us and aren’t afraid to say so. Needless to say the most complained about presenter online is the one who generates the most phonecalls and emails and is well on his way to being one of the most popular presenters we have ever had. Go figure.

Anyway, the reason for mentioning this is that after outing myself in a radio forum as the producer of much of our live sports output I was contacted by the webmaster of one of one of the more sensible websites devoted to the station, one which just concentrates on documenting news updates and occasionally interviewing presenters. I was asked if I’d help to contribute to an article he was writing for the site about our sports coverage and was duly sent a batch of questions. I typed up some responses, cleared it with the boss and sent it off.

A few days later I was splashed all over the front page of the site – The James Masterton interview. The cheeky sod had basically taken my replies and turned them into a full blown interview with me about how we make football matches happen and my views on the style of presentation we use. Fair enough say I, everything I wrote was on the record after all.

Admittedly it makes me sound like I’m the only one producing the live sport, which isn’t quite the case but at the very least I hopefully sound like I know what I am talking about. The chances of me living it down with the rest of the jokers in the office are fairly slim – but I’m planning just to tell them they are jealous of my celebrity or something.

Anyway, read it all here. There’s only one thing worse than being interviewed for a radio station fansite, and that’s not being interviewed for a fansite. Just ask all the other producers…

 

More Ugly Rumours

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So after all the early midweek hype, the much vaunted Ugly Rumours single “War” finally limped into the singles chart at Number 21. As I said in the Yahoo commentary, this can be put down to the single selling in good numbers to interested parties at the start of the week and then shifting something in the order of none and bugger all for the rest of the week.

In one of those weird moments of synchronicity that life throws up from time to time, Sunday evening saw me go straight from posting the column online to going into work to produce the programme for the man who had been spending his week hyping the single to death – George Galloway.

Needless to say he had an opinion on the subject and insisted that the failure of the record to live up to its initial promise was down to a) a conspiracy by the BBC to prevent any news items on the record being broadcast and b) sales of the track being removed from the reckoning because people were, and I quote, “buying multiple copies to give to friends.”

On the first point I couldn’t really comment, suffice it to say that the lack of media attention beyond the initial excitement on Tuesday was probably due to people realising that this was a genuine flash in the pan and something that was unlikely to be reflected when the final week tally came in.

As for his second point, I’m going to have to say that this too is unlikely. As has been demonstrated many times in the past, records that have fallen foul of chart hyping rules because of suspicious numbers of multiple purchases don’t simply have half their sales discounted, they are removed completely. A breach of regulations is a disqualification, not a demotion. George was also happily arguing last night that multiple purchases are overlooked for charity singles, but I’m not sure that his protestations that the records aim of raising money for the Stop The War nutters counted as a charitable cause.

Just to prove that there are no limits to the way the imagination of some people will run away with them, we were even getting calls and texts from people saying “I looked on the official site and the song isn’t even listed as a chart entry – they are all against us” until it was pointed out that at the time the OCC website hadn’t been updated and was still displaying last weeks chart.

Still if nothing else he and his friends can now sympathise with everyone who has ever released a lovingly crafted single with high hopes, only to find that the opinions of the masses don’t tally with their own. There may well be people who didn’t buy the single because of the political link. Most I suspect ignored it for the plain and simple reason that it wasn’t much cop in the first place. Although George did look a treat in his policeman’s outfit in the video.

 

No Business Like Dog Business

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I want to reassure anyone who might still be unsure that there are many aspects of media work that are far from glamorous.

I was never more mindful of this fact than at 3pm yesterday afternoon when I found myself wheeling two suitcases full of broadcast equipment up the road towards Waterloo station. One of my many jobs at work is to be the person in charge of our year long assocation with Love The Dogs, promoting the running of our very own radio station greyhound and organising the regular outside broadcasts from Wimbledon stadium as we bring a night of dog racing live to the nation. So it was as combined producer, engineer and runner (this isn’t the BBC you know) I was transporting my radio station in a box onto the train to Wimbledon to set up for the evening broadcast.

There are certain things you should never really see in daylight, for fear of spoiling the magic. Girls you meet a student nights for one thing, nightclubs for another. The same can possibly be said for greyhound stadiums. What seems a thrilling, glamorous place under floodlights and packed with excited diners, drinkers, owners, trainers and fans seems almost folorn in daylight. Greyhound tracks are like bingo halls in a way, vast social venues with an inbuilt yearning for the days only a generation before when they were packed to the rafters and the very essence of a great night out. These days they limp along, a shadow of what they used to be and still endlessly searching for that magical formula that will show how relevant and how much fun they still are. This is where we come in of course, talking up the fantastic sense of occasion that you get at a night at the dogs and reminding people that these events still take place and are still incredibly worthwhile.

So it was that I arrived at what in the light seems a sad, cavernous and dare I say it suspiciously orange balcony above the track. I arranged the tables to my liking and nervously broke the seal on the cases, ready for the half an hour of untangling cables, plugging in microphones and discovering just what had not survived the journey intact. This is actually why we turn up at venues for OBs anything up to three hours beforehand. You never know what is going to not work, whether it is one of the ISDN boxes or worse still, the ISDN lines themselves. This time around I discovered that the dead equipment included the secondary ISDN box which would enable me to talk to the studio whilst the presenters were on air. Without it I would end up a mute observer to the proceedings and although this wasn’t fatal to the project, was still an extra headache.

Aside from that though everything plugged in and worked. Shortly after I was joined by Jason Cundy who would be anchor for the night. We went in search of a cup of tea and as you can see from the picture, settled down to wait for showtime.

The second picture is taken not long after we went on air at 7pm, with the arena yet to fill up with merry punters. Pictured is a pensive looking Alvin Martin, alongside Mark who was our resident tipping expert for the night. I told you the walls were suspiciously orange:

The next shot was taken on my phone later in the evening, with Jason and Alvin deep in coversation about the upcoming race. In the background you can see the crowds milling around at the bars and tote windows with the floodlight track itself down below to the left. Having done two of these events now I’m always surprised at how well the crowds tend to leave you alone when you are clearly hard at work. Ever wondered why the TV reporters doing pieces to camera in the street seem to be ignored by the passers by milling around them? It seems to be the same for radio. We are surrounded by so many cables and so much techical stuff that it is almost as if people are scared to even look in our direction for fear of disturbing something that they shouldn’t. Needless to say a chaperone is always stationed discreetly a few feet away but so far I’ve never had to manhandle someone away from the broadcast position and tell them to do some slinging of hooks.

Finally this was me, stood attempting to look in control and sporting a very exciting looking headset which didn’t actually do anything as my box to the studio was broken. I made my peace with the fact that having dragged it all to the venue, set everything up in record time (a process which also involved running an extension cable over the balcony and along the back of a wall until I could share a power socket with the restaurant tills) my reward was to stand and watch over the whole thing for the night, fuelled by an endless stream of free drinks and the knowledge that at 10pm I had to dismantle everything and carry it back to the studio again.

No of course it isn’t glamorous, but it is enormous fun at the same time. Best of all I get to do it all over again in Cardiff at the end of next week.

 

Ugly Records

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This could be fun. It has been a very long time since I’ve had an opinion on a record that will fly so dramatically in the face of those who like it and have bought it. This weekend I get the feeling I’m going to wind so many people up it just isn’t funny.

The single in questions is the idiotic Ugly Rumours single which is likely to be hovering around the Top 10 midweek thanks to a flurry of downloads from people who believe it represents their solidarity with the increasingly hysterical and continuingly irrelevant anti-war brigade. This is really where the problem lies.

I have never been a fan of attempts to mix music with politics, or to use a pop record as a way of promoting an “issue”. What it does is dilute the artistry involved in making the music and distorts how we are supposed to perceive the song in question. If I am buying a piece of music so totally allied to a political cause, what message am I sending out? Is it because I like the song and the performance, or because I happen to agree with the views of the people making it.

Furthermore, what happens if the two don’t agree? What do you do if you like the music but disagree with the politics? Or agree with the politics but can’t stand the record? To me that is a seriously messed up situation and leads me then to wonder just what motivation people have for buying the single. Earlier this week I helped produce George Galloway doing a stand-in slot on the radio. He used the time to extensively talk about the single and encouraged people to buy it to show support for his anti-war views. Doesn’t that suggest that there will be people picking up the song simply because they think it will validate their political feelings or worse still, because they have been told to by a loudmouthed MP. I don’t like that, it has nothing to do with music or artistry and everything to do with making cheap political points. To me the two are mutually inconcluslive.

Comedians and satirists quite rightly take the mickey out of the hackneyed cliches of people saying “I’m not a racist, I own lots of Stevie Wonder records” or “I’m no homophobe, I love George Michael”, yet the message that is being sent out this week is that you can proudly say “I’m no fan of Bush or Blair, I own a copy of “War” by Ugly Rumours”. It isn’t as if a political record has ever changed things either. Certain leftie acquaintances of mine speak with a dewey eyed nostalgia about the important messages (as they saw them) of singles such as “Stand Down Margaret” by The Beat (1980) or “Celebrate (The Day After You)” by the Blow Monkeys (1987) ignoring the fact that they were either minor hits or total flops, and not even all that good to boot. Therein lies the other point of course, it is not as if “War” is anything really to admire musically, a karaoke standard cover of an old 60s song performed by a band who are “hilariously” named after Tony Blair’s old student rock band. Truly my sides have split.

So we’ll see what kind of mood I am come the weekend. The best bit about it is that I’ll spend Sunday afternoon pouring excrement over his favourite record and then spend the evening being the hands on producer for George Galloway on the radio during which time he will invitably bang on about how wonderful it is. The song that is, not my writing. I’ll avoid showing him that one.

Let’s round off with a blast from the past and a piece from the archives. I won’t bother recycling the Diana rant from 97 despite it prompting amazed mails from people happy I’d had the balls to lay into the Elton John single which at the time seemed to be beyond criticism. Instead this was from December 96 and the writeup for the Dunblane charity cover version of “Knocking On Heaven’s Door” which I felt uncomfortable with for pretty much the same reasons. Changing the lyrics to include a “throw your guns away” meant it was impossible to enjoy the record if you hated the politics behind it. Back in those days I was a little more timid…

On the morning of March 13th this year Thomas Hamilton marched into the gym at the local primary school in the small Scottish town of Dunblane armed with two shotguns. 16 children, all aged between 5 and 6 were gunned down along with their teacher before the madman turned his guns on himself. It was an outrage which stunned the entire world and whose shockwaves still echo round the hearts and minds of virtually everyone. As the families prepare for their first Christmas since the tragedy this single has been released in memory of those who died. It is the brainchild of musicians from the town itself who were determined to make a tribute in song. Together with several celebrity contributors they recorded a heartfelt version of the old Bob Dylan classic and are joined in the chorus by a choir of Dunblane children, including some who are the brothers and sisters of those murdered, to a quite moving effect. Without a shadow of a doubt a Number One smash and it deservedly achieves that placing – yet not without a small hint of controversy on the side.

What has in the minds of some observers soured the tone of the single is the message that is behind it. Uniquely, with the permission of Dylan himself the second verse of the song has been completely rewritten and now refers to the tragedy and carries with it a plea for all guns to be destroyed. This has been the year-long message of the Dunblane Snowdrop campaign, led by the parents of the murdered children which argues that the only way to prevent such a tragedy from ever occurring again is to ban the private ownership of all handguns, such as those which Hamilton used to carry out his atrocity. For the first time ever a charity pop record is thus inexorably linked to a political campaign and at that one which for all its worthiness has yet to carry the full weight of public opinion. As a direct result of this, although the single has sold copiously to a great many people, there are equally those who have felt unable to justify a purchase and thus imply their support for the cause and it is a sad but true fact that the impact of the single and its potential sale has almost certainly suffered because of this.

Whatever the rights and wrongs of the track, few would argue that it is a worthy contender to be Christmas Number One next week. The Dunblane single has not featured in the annual betting race at all, bookmakers declining to try to profit out of such a tragedy – as a result all bets will be honoured for the disc at Number 2, should this single be ruling the roost on Christmas Day. Its main challenge will come from the Spice Girls. Their new ballad ’2 Become 1′ should have been released last week but was delayed (in common with many others) to give the Dunblane record a shot at the top. As it turns out this could also have been quite a shrewd move, as the way is now clear for them to have their third chart-topper of the year and also become the first ever Christmas Number One to enter the chart at the top in Christmas week itself.

The writeup came after I’d gone to my editor and asked for advice on how to address the issue without inadvertently attracting a storm in the direction of the fledgling dotmusic site. Hence the slightly tentative nature of it all. It still provoked an angry email from a woman involved with the campaign complaining that I’d confused politics with “a campaign for the right to life”.

 

Beware the predictive text

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So picture the scene. I’m sat in the office yesterday, minding my own business and trying not to get too stressed about the horrors of managing a presenter in one European country linking to commentators in another European country all in the name of football coverage.

Then my phone bleeps and the following message appears onscreen:

All kinds of horrors went through my head at that point, especially given that the sender was a good female friend of mine. Then the context hit me. They had been banging on all day about finally creating themselves a MySpace account and were now on the lookout for “friends”. The key combination for “add” is indeed the same as “bed” so the possibility did exist that they had merely not noticed the predictive text getting it wrong.
I mean it is easily done. There isn’t a man alive who hasn’t at once time or another told a girl he wants them to puck his anal, or told his friend that he is an aunt, but the example above was the first time I’ve ever had an innocent requent turn into something rather more filthy.
 

"Get thee to Lebanon"

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Now you know how to spell my name. You did after all have to enter it as the url for this site. Even if you came here via a link, my name is up there in big letters at the top of the page.

Despite this, there are plenty of people who don’t and for some reason appear to insist on using a weird alternative spelling when discussing me. As a result I sometimes miss out on some of the more entertaining discussions that result from the things I write, simply because I don’t know how to search for them properly. Thanks to a search hit that showed up on this site though, I came across the following exchange of views the other day. It may have been several months ago but it still managed to make my entire week.

Check out if you will, this archived piece from The Pet Shop Boys Community

The discussion in question centres around a cut and paste of my writeup of their last Top 40 hit ‘Minimal’. The thread starter “kimphilby” gets my name wrong and summarisies the piece thus:

“The guy’s a bitchy queen.”

Not sure what they are implying there. I’m not at all bitchy.

The discussion rages on with some agreeing with what I write and some taking it as a monstrous slur on the talents of their idols (a common theme across message boards devoted to a particular act).

Then comes the good part, for there are no less than two consecutive comments from a user who purports to be, and given her musical and personal tastes probably genuinely is, Janet Street-Porter. Her summation of my writing ranks as the greatest piece of advice I’ve ever been given.

It’s not particularly interesting either – I can’t believe that bloke sits there writing a critique of chart entries every week. Call yourself a journalist? Get thee to Lebanon and report on something important, you gimp.

In response I’d make just three points:

  1. Neither can I.
  2. Not sure I do.
  3. I nearly did go to Lebanon once thanks to a correspondence with a girl from Beirut in 2001 but it never went anywhere. I’m not sure how germane it would be to my work as a self-opinionated tosser unless I was perhaps researching Mika’s family tree. Thanks for the suggestion anyhow.

So I’ve been insulted by Janet Street-Porter. I used to work for Kelvin Mackenzie. He would have been incredibly proud of me. 

 

Quickie Brits

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OK, short and sweet summary of the Brit awards, simply because I only watched the show in snatched moments at work in between other stuff.

  • Russell Brand remains a marmite kind of celebrity. You either really like him or want to kill him in the face repeatedly.
  • The performances weren’t by and large disappointing. They just suffered from the fact that after the Scissor Sisters opened proceedings, nothing else was going to come close.
  • Of course Take That won the best single vote. It didn’t take a genius to predict it really.
  • Amy Winehouse was oddly the most sober person there.
  • Joss Stone needs to avoid speaking in public.
  • I was at the very least impressed that Russell Brand managed to tell a joke about taking spliff to help with crack comedowns at 8.10pm on ITV1.
  • Nothing on the night was more entertaining than seeing Lilly Allen sitting po-faced at RB’s opening monologue and then laughing hysterically at the comments from her Dad.
 

Brits Latest

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So with the awards themselves just two days away, the “first round” of the Best British Single voting has been completed, leaving just five singles left for a live vote on Wednesday night.

I’m delighted to see that to a certain extent common sense has prevailed. The suggestion that “A Moment Like This” was somehow a contender as one of the best singles made by British artists in the last 12 months was almost as offensive as it was laughable. Fortunately that prospect has now gone out the window as Leona Lewis was eliminated. So too Lily Allen and James Morrison, which is more of a surprise, especially when you consider the singles that remain in their place.

For the record then, the vote for Best British Single will be between the following tracks:

Fill My Little World – The Feeling

Not going to win. Never Be Lonely would possibly have stood a chance but I’m sorry, this one really is nothing special at all.

Take That – Patience

Almost certainly the winner. As I said last month, you should celebrate this single not so much for the way it sounds but what it represents. A comeback from a faded pop act that was motivated as much by genuine affection as it was by nostalgia and the desire for one last payday. The rehabilitation of Gary Barlow as a songwriter was long overdue, and if he gets a gong for the first successful song he has written in a decade it will be no bad thing.

Razorlight – America

Meh. It still doesn’t excite me. Razorlight should be feted for selling thousands of albums anyway, what do they need with a gong for a single?

Snow Patrol – Chasing Cars

Now if this award was being voted for by the industry rather than the public it would walk away with it. This after all was the song that proved it isn’t just Coldplay who can crack America. From a popular point of view it is also to be celebrated as the song which defied attempts by the label to suppress it and move on, charging back into the Top 10 the minute it was allowed to chart again under the new chart rules. It is now so ubiquitous it is starting to piss people off and in truth it will crumble against the Take That juggernaut, but stick a vote in for it anyway. You know it makes sense.

Will Young – All Time Love

Popjustice have already pointed out to some amusement that the official press release of the final five couldn’t even get the name of the song right. I’m still amazed that this is in here at all, never mind that it survived the first round of voting. It won’t win but the fact that it has made it this far proves that Will Young still has fans and thus still has a market waiting for him. When he comes out with a new album it will be well worth waiting for.

So there you go, my colours nailed firmly to this mast. Check back here on Wednesday night for the obligatory egg on face moment when The Feeling or Razorlight walk off with the award. Remember the title of this blog after all.

 

Story Is Up

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As I mentioned, the “Beatles go digital” story is up on BBC Online, complete with the odd quote from yours truly. Read it all here.

Just think. If I turn out to be completely wrong, the evidence of my recklessly made predictions will be preserved for all time.

 
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