
Dear God, what mode of dribbly piddle is this?
It's difficult to discover exactly how shit it is. Imagine you've strayed into quicksand, and it's slowly dragging you down, deeper and deeper, and it's relentless, sapping the spirit out of you, low and down and down, until there's sand in your throat and your ears and your nose, only it's not sand, it's shit. It's quickshit. That's how shit this call is.
But what struck me, apart from the shitness, is that this call is entirely assembled from near-identical modules. There's nothing with the patient build of a verse or the melodic uplift of a chorus, just a serial of 8-bar pre-formed components. It's a lot of middle eights. More bridges than Venice.
Module 1 goes like this:She said its not near you it's not near you, it's me She said it's not near you it's not near you, it's me
Module 4 goes like this:I dont recognize how to know you more, how to know you more how to know you more, my friend I dont recognize how to know you more, how to know you more how to know you more, my friend
Module 5 is quite revelatory. It goes like this:I think we got, I think we got I think we got nothing to say I reckon we got, I think we got I think we got
Because the components are all built to the same template, you can get them together any way you want. So it goes; Mod 1, Mod 2, Mod 3, Mod 4, Mod 5, Mods 1&5, Mod 2, Mod 3, Mod 4, Mod 4, Mod 5, Mods 1&2.
It's fucking Lego, is what it is. No, it's worse, it's an Ikea flat pack song, constructed of blue cardboard held together with shiny metal clips and belted with a ball hammer until it sort of fits, with just a dense coating of gaudy paint to intercept it collapsing in a heap. A welter of jingles is not a song. If I had ten minutes with the product line workers who assembled this, I'd give them mind to one of the laziest songs The Beatles ever wrote. It's simply got one module. Sing it with me, boys:
Let's all get up and dancing to a call that was a hit before your father was born, though she was born a long long time ago, your father should know, your father should know.
Did you observe how your voice went rather high in some parts and quite low in others? That was good, wasn't it? It's called melody. Mel-ody. And you love how you seed quite a lot of words before you started to hear the like speech again? Could we try that? Could we? Hmm?