Thursday, November 29, 2012

Spotlight: Claire's Diary



I was a huge fan of Sophie and Izzy's last band, Care Bears on Fire. I thought they were at the head of the class as far as young pop punks go. Adding synths to the mix and developing their style into more of a dance-rock sound (a la Franz or The Sounds,) doesn't dull their edge at all. The momentum is kept high: if it's not "punk" it's still action packed, and they've retained full knowledge of how to hook a tune, not to mention a sense of purpose to their lyrics ("Build Me A Hero" is particularly good.) They're strong enough songwriters to pursue their ideas but never forsake a good rock-out sesh. It's real growth, I dig it. And Sophie sounds a bit like Debbie Harry now, dontcha think?

Wednesday, November 28, 2012

The Beatles: Help! (1965)

One of the understated pleasures of Help! is that it brings a level of polished pop that isn't found on most other Beatles albums. They're now at the height of their pop songwriting abilities, and starting to dabble in genre-expanding exercises that would define their later career. In between exhilarating singles like the title track and "Ticket To Ride," and other songwriting high water marks, there is a surprisingly good mid-60's pop album, marking this one as a strangely underrated Beatles piece.

Underrated not without cause, because nobody is coming around for "The one with 'I Need You' and 'Another Girl.'" They represent a jangly, soft-bellied version of album-filling pop not present on the previous albums and not quite realized on the previous, mostly rockier ones. The latter of those is has a good, swift-paced twang to it, which shows that the Beatles at their worst are still as good as most bands. "I Need You" marks George's return to songwriting, his first since the universally underappreciated "Don't Bother Me" (which got to John's place Beatles For Sale mood a year early.) Really, George's better song here is "You Like Me Too Much," which like "Don't Bother Me" has a rather specific take on an otherwise generic scenario. He had d a gift for pointed lyrics, when he pushed himself. It's almost a taunt - "You're not going to leave me, no matter how I treat you. You like me too much." It's the kind of thing you couldn't get away with nowadays.

Likewise, nobody's going to point to "It's Only Love" as one of John's best lyrics, but it's one of his best-sounding songs to this point, hitting home a note of nervousness and self-consciousness at being in love that the lyrics don't quite live up to. It benefits from the fact that, as I've said, the band just sounds so good on this one: there's a certain beauty to it. The same can be said for "Tell Me What You See," whose climactic callout of the title phrase is really boss. Again, not one of their best taken at face value, but with hindsight it's an early clue to their growing fascination with perception and identity. Maybe, a little? No? Maybe not. But it's an A-moment in a B-song, pointing to the Beatles' growing ability to build their tunes around unique sounds rather than merely being songs for their own sake - soon they would lavish enough attention on even the minor songs that the minor songs would cease to exist. But I'm getting ahead of myself.

The two most telling songs about the Help album aren't the very best ones, but give a good sense of how far along their basic pop craft had come: "The Night Before" is a rollicking McCartney number based around an electric piano boogie that has a more innocent, affable take on similar terrain as Lennon's earlier "No Reply." It was a curiously off-kilter, funky guitar solo on it, courtesy of McCartney. Then there's Lennon's "You're Gonna Lose That Girl," based on a lightweight bongo tapping percussion, and "girl group" harmonies reminiscent of With The Beatles, but compositionally far beyond most of that record. Great album tracks like these did the heavy lifting while they explored new directions elsewhere. Not every track was a home run, but the ones that weren't were getting better.

As an album, bolstered by two bona fide hit singles (a rarity in the Beatles catalog) this album also has several other genuine blockbusters. One is Paul's motor-mouthed "I've Just Seen a Face," which perfectly captures in song that heart-pumping adrenaline feeling of meeting someone and instantly falling in love. Paul's narrator barely has time to collect his thoughts before spilling them all out. Then there's Lennon's Dylanesque acoustic heart-stomper, "You've got To Hide Your Love Away," which was one of the best indications that the band's sound could take on new, unprecedented dimensions and thrive. It succeeds in being "folk" because for all its being a song about isolation and dejection, it's still rousing and somehow unifying. Makes you want to link arms and sway.

And then of course there's "Yesterday," sitting like a sneak attack toward the end of the album. It marks a significant moment for Paul because it reveals a path that only he could follow, writing a song that nobody else could have. It's a perfect pop piece, the way the lyrics and vocals invoke sadness and sorrow without ever attaching it to an important concrete storyline: "Why she had to go, I don't know, she wouldn't say / I did something wrong now I long for yesterday." The strings are key: they're soft and understated, not melodramatic. This isn't a teen car crash song, this is something a bit more sophisticated. It could be anybody's pain. And though it's very sad, it's not so hurtful to listen to as it is sweet, because this pain is wrapped so neatly all together. Great pop music gives a voice to those things you can't necessarily sort out for yourself.

This album is filled out by two cover versions that basically shut the door on the idea of the Beatles as a cover band. "Dizzy Miss Lizzy" doesn't have the juice of a "Twist and Shout" or "Rock and Roll Music," no matter how forcefully John growls on it. "Act Naturally" at least makes better use of their instrumental dynamics with its reverberated twang. It's a perfect Ringo song, casting him as the likeable, put-upon everyman. It feels at least a bit more natural (har har) than the Carl Perkins and Buddy Holly covers from Beatles For Sale. Looking back, these covers are a farewell to the roots of the Beatles as they move to concentrating on engineering the future of music.

Help! is the growing pains album. They were mostly out the other side of it by the next LP, but for now they were still sorting out exactly what the way forward was. With Help!, things started falling into place, setting up the domino effect that would carry them through the rest of the 60's, the most even mix of rule-bending experiments and pop pleasures. So it gets forgotten a bit, left behind in ways, because it is an awkward part of the "narrative:" an album without a specific character. But in that split, it excels twice. So there.

Buy This Album Now:
iTunes Canada // iTunes USA // Amazon.ca // Amazon.ca












Tuesday, November 27, 2012

Cuff The Duke: Sidelines of the City

Something I say a lot is that the best Country music is often made by artists not found in the Country section, ones that owe no debt to the genre's conventions and have no desire to appeal to that genre's main followers. They're more interested in the feelings invoked by classic country: of loss, distance, the passage of time, vulnerability, and fiddles and steel guitar all over.

On the ominous opening track, it's clear that Cuff the Duke have the interest but not the allegiance. The fiddle squeals like a warning sign while the guitars kick up behind it and Wayne Petti comes in like Tokyo Police Club doing a Johnny Cash tribute, laden with weariness and resignation. That combination of the unconventional and the traditional makes for some of the album's best moments. Take "Failure To Some," with its gorgeous chorus, expressing a rather nuanced worldview, and its lengthy psychedelic wailing guitar coda letting you ruminate for four minutes or so.

There's a lot of contemplation, and a lot of melancholy on this album. It's baked into the band's sound, but they really explore it with their songwriting, on tunes such as "Remember the Good Times," "The Ballad of the Tired Old Man," "Rossland Square" which deal in their ways with time, change, and loss. The first is reluctantly celebratory, in its Byrdsy way. "The Ballad of the Tired Old Man" is an anti-war parable, "Rossland Square" is a light jab at urban development and the way our hometowns alter themselves if we're gone too long: it's an ode to Oshawa, which is on the other side of Toronto from me. (Great lyric courtesy of their tourism board: "Prepare to be amazed / That's the slogan of the city where I was raised.") This album is not made of pick-me-ups. Highlights include the crystalline, haunting "When All Else Fails And Fades" and the intimate "Confessions From a Parkdale Basement." My personal favourite song here is the barnstorming "By Winter's End." Let also let their character show with moments of quirk like "Surging Revival" and "Long Road."

And yet despite its bleak imagery and tone, I don't consider this album to be a bummer. It's refreshing, because it's a big, rustic production that never feels like it's kidding you. It's honest and sincere, eyeball-to-eyeball with the listener, laying out all these fears and doubts and wrapping them up in great sounds, confessional but not without sweetener. I don't know how much of the sentiment expressed is "authentic" or "real," but it succeeds in stirring something up in me and attaching it to some damn fine music. Sometimes it's one or the other, but in the best cases, it can be both.

Buy This Album Now: iTunes Canada // Amazon.ca // Amazon.com


Monday, November 26, 2012

Sheepdogs: The Sheepdogs

When I listen to the Sheepdogs' music, I often think of the movie Dazed & Confused. Set in the mid-70s, one of its major characters is Randall "Pink" Floyd, a star quarterback for his high school team outside Austin, TX, who has to choose between signing a waiver to abstain from sex, drugs and alcohol for the season, or quitting the game. His fellow jocks plan on signing and worrying about getting around the waiver later, but Floyd has a dual identity: moreso than his teammates, he's equal parts jock and burnout. He doesn't look too athletic, wears his hair long, doesn't like the hazing rituals as much as everybody else. He basically has to choose between living up to his coaches' and teammates' expectations or embracing freedom and a worry-free lifestyle.

Not only does the Sheepdogs' music evoke that era, it calls up that same feeling, that same mood of the time, the idea that rock and roll should be something easy and fun. Not cheap, mind you, but that if you have to work hard at it you aren't going to end up with a result that feels natural. I'm sure the boys in the the Sheepdogs work hard at their craft, but it certainly feels, from my outsider, listening perspective, that they're just naturals, that they've absorbed their music so much that they picked up their guitars one day and a fully-formed set of 14 tracks suddenly manifested out of thin air. That's a bit naive, but the trick is not to make a show of it. The guitars twang very nonchalantly, the songs roll by in a solid groove, the lyrics very openly preach of a relaxed, let-it-be lifestyle. Some of the tracks are pretty fiery: "While We're Young" is a fist-pumping anthem, and "Is Your Dream Worth Dying For" is certainly a standout, the way its dreamy, neo-hippy chorus contrasts with the muscle-rock verses. But mostly the music is very loose and casual. Look at the titles: "Laid Back," "Feeling Good," "Alright OK," "The Way It Is." Even "I Need Help" is just a lot more of a shrug-of-the-shoulders than an outward cry for change. They approach this idea, or overall sound, from enough different directions that they make the album a treat to listen to.

Retro-classic rockers have it easy, in a sense, because they're working in a millieu with certain expectations and well-worn song forms. They're not far at all from their roots in the Allmans and Skynyrds and CCRs on the past. But the trick is in creating something that appeals to classic rock fans without merely being a cover band. And I think that, on their debut as they do here, the Sheepdogs manage to sound both faithful and fresh, bringing their own righteous energy to the set.

They come out on this CD, in case there was any doubt after Learn & Burn, proving that they are a genuine article rather than cheap knockoffs. It should be enough to say that they are extremely good at playing a type of music that most would agree is inherently pleasurable to listen to. They bring a lot to the table and ultimately, create a fantasy land version of classic rock, rebuilding out of memory and practice a version of the past that never really existed. All their skill, then, is in making sure it never becomes a shallow imitation. Cream rises to the top, and they're just very, very good at what they do.

Buy This Album Now: iTunes Canada // iTunes USA // Amazon.ca // Amazon.com


Thursday, November 22, 2012

Spotlight: Stella Ella Ola




There's a lack of music in this world that is actively fun to listen to. Stella Ella Ola starts out with the advantage of being made for fun, by people who just seem to love being together jamming on instruments and tossing together lyrics like it ain't nothing. Each of the seven songs released to date by Stella Ella Ola has an infectious joy to it, start with with their seemingly casual, loosely-constructed nature and radiating outward in the vocal deliveries of its various members, its wild solos and catchy riffs, whether in the twist-like "Peter Sellers," the bubbly jangle pop of "New Year Song" or the blistering "Summerette." Simple, pure, good clean fun. And they make it look so easy. Hell yeah.

Wednesday, November 21, 2012

The Beatles, "Help!" & "I'm Down"



John Lennon often lamented that they ruined this song by speeding it up, instead of doing it as a contemplative, Dylan-like ode of self-reflection. Maybe that would have made for a remarkable recording, but it drains away so much of the song's charm and character - that immediacy, that bracing plea. Notably ,that "Help! / I need somebody" bit at the beginning, which does not re-appear, would simply not fit. It's such a visceral way to open a song.

Listen also to the way those guitars sink into lower tones, Bum, bum, buhhhh. There's something remarkable about how poly-syllabic the verses are ("I'm not so self-assured", "My independence seems to vanish in the haze.") These lyrics, these long sentences, are not built for a pop song and yet he delivers them like thy appeared in every pop song ever. I like the song the way it is, because it's articulate, and Lennon rattles off his problems and woes in such a motor-mouthed, panicked way, it adds to the urgency. I don't think this is a song that should be sung seated on the floor.

The other great thing about this song are those backup vocals. Typically, backup vocals sing in response, or in echo, but these ones sing the next line in anticipation - only partially, at their own mini melody. Jeezes. For one thing, where does that come from? How do you get the idea for something like that, what makes you think it will work, and since it does, why don't more songs do that?? It enhances the song so much, teasing the listener's ear, but you never even notice. Then, the more time you spend thinking about it (as I have obviously, perhaps too much) it seems so perfect for this song, because it's almost like the other guys are teasing John, rolling their eyes because they've heard the spiel so many times they can recite it themselves.



The other thing about the "Help!" single is that it features one of the first Beatles b-sides that could be an A-side in its own right. Maybe it doesn't have the artistic value that "Help!" was later revealed to, but it rocks to high holy hell, an effort to recreate those Little Richard tunes Paul was so good at covering. What I alays find is that nobody ever emulates anyone perfectly. The process of the Beatles trying to copy Little Richard resulted in something fairly original in its own right.

This song is great because it shows that at this point, the Beatles are still a working, touring rock band. The progress they made as musicians was not by design so much as it was finding their way through that. At this point in their career they were getting so good at so many things.

The Beatles, "Ticket to Ride"



1965 is a crucial year for watching the Beatles in their artistic development. They were still making gigantic pop smash hits but were doing so with an ever-confidence in their abilities to broaden their horizons. For a while yet, it would still be focused distilling perfect pop songs by improving every element they could.

There's something so excellent about this song, the way the music so perfectly conveys the lyrical subject, churning and droning and twanging. It's so gloomy, but never drags, resting as it does on the wistful melody of the vocals. There's a ton of extra goodies in there, from the chiming 12-string intro, which sounds like a little lonely cry sesh, to the little guitar lick that punctuates the refrain and the way the music drops out when they sing "Ri-hi-hiiide" leaving them swinging in the breeze.

Tuesday, November 20, 2012

Does It Rock? Twin Atlantic, "Free"



Maybe it's just because they have Scottish accents that I find them so charming and affable. By and large, Twin Atlantic trades in a type of music that is very easy to dismiss, overeager to prove its worth as angsty and thoughtful while still being poppy and accessible. To my tired old ears, they seem like an updated, Glaswegian version of Tonic.

But this is a type of music that will always have a currency with the current crop of teenagers, with thundering drums, squealing guitars and vocals centering on breaking free, expressing yourself, taking control at last, etc. On that level it ain't half bad at all. Critics hate it, but it's a necessary creature, generally harmless. I could see being 16 and getting really into this record, then moving on once you discover, I dunno, the Clash or Metallica or Arctic Monkeys or something. This is never going to be the "big thing" but it'll do at that age where you hate whatever the "big thing" is but don't know where to look for something you like.

Even if it's a philosophical affront to the idea that "good" music must have "artistic value," I'll admit I've listened to this record the whole way through without turning it off a whole lot, and if it sucked I wouldn't be able to do that. Sure it's slick and commercial, but not every band gets to be Nirvana, not every band has to define a generation. Some just go along with it.

Monday, November 19, 2012

Black Keys: El Camino

With El Camino, the Black Keys follow through on the promise of Brothers. Oddly enough, to do this, they had to make an album that sounded very little like it. Brothers had a decade of obscurity behind it, and with its unexpected success, brought everybody over to their side. But getting them to stay there was going to require some doing. El Camino represents one of the finest examples of deliberate hitmaking I've seen in a very long time.

Basically, after you have a hit like "Tighten Up" and "Howling For You," you don't get to go back to the little rooms (to paraphrase Jack White.) Some bands elect to chase their newfound audience off. Some bands try too hard to keep them. With a band like the Black Keys, that would be bad. There's the problem: if they made an album that ignored their success, their label would probably chuck them to the curb. If they tried too hard to please their new fans, they'd end up pleasing nobody. Everybody wants to have hits, but nobody wants to get caught in the act of aiming for a hit. The magic of El Camino is that it succeeds and in fact thrives: it gives the people what they want, the Black Keys album they dreamed was next. No more, no less.

All that is why this album is noticeably brighter and more upbeat than the often dour Brothers. That one was good music, and I wouldn't fault them if they didn't change the routine for their next album, but instead they rose to the challenge of creating a great Black Keys album that was also a chart topping monster. This sort of premise is usually a recipe for a compromise that pleases nobody.

What they ended up with was not merely an album that contained hits, but an album that was made out of them. Every track on this album has a welcoming air to it, a feeling like you've been hearing it in the background of your entire life since forever. That's not just because "Little Black Submarines" is a compressed version of "Stairway To Heaven," but also because songs like "Gold on the Ceiling" and "Stop Stop" have those irresistible grooves you didn't know you'd been craving this whole time. Moments in between those peaks, like "Money Maker," "Run Right Back," "Sister" and "Dead and Gone" keep the ear from waning. This album is compulsively listenable. Each track cements the fact that Auerbach and Carney are the makers of great rock music.

Still, it never betrays the sound that brought us to the Keys two years ago. Auerbach's guitar wails with wry, dark pain, his vocals distant and obscure, Carney's drums thundering insistently, tons of interesting minor choices all throughout. This is auteurial rock, still, while also being for the masses.

It works because they're great at what they do, and know how to soak the album with those primal elements that makes music so addictive to so many people. "Lonely Boy," the opening track and first single, announces it with great urgency. There's a reason why this is the "mainstream" stuff, though: it's fun. It's big, it's groovy, it's hook-laden, you find yourself humming it, it moves you. It's fucking delicious. If you're an artist playing to small audience, it's no great shakes to make an album you can be proud of, just by following your instincts. An album like this requires walking a remarkable tightrope act.

Buy this album now: iTunes Canada // iTunes USA // Amazon.ca // Amazon.com



Friday, November 16, 2012

Serious Contenders: Rolling Stones, "Ruby Tuesday"



With the release of the Rolling Stones' 3 disc (or more) retrospective, it occurred to me just how many different things the Rolling Stones did. The standard narrative was that whatever the Beatles did, the Stones had to try too, and did worse: The Beatles used strings on "Yesterday" so the Stones used them here. The difference is that the Beatles were that versatile, that whenever they would try something, they would become it wholly. It can be hard to pin down the exact nature of the Beatles after 1965 because of all the different stuff they threw themselves into. The Rolling Stones, by contrast, never weren't "The Rolling Stones." When they used baroque arrangements, they were still fronted by Mick Jagger's lumbering, dirty white blues vocals. The balladry was not a change or an adaptation or a new identity, it was a reference: the tough guy breaking down, reality crashing into the fantasy backdrop created by the musical arrangement. And because of that, the Stones' ballad work has a different effect than the Beatles'.

The Beatles were method actors, immersing themselves in their current role. The Rolling Stones were character actors, there to be themselves in whatever situation required it.

Thursday, November 8, 2012

The Beatles: Beatles for Sale (1964)

Beatles For Sale is one of those hole-in-one shots for music critics. We like to write about it because it boils to two key points:
  • The Beatles, exhausted by the rigors of Beatlemania, were starting to get worn out, resulting in some negative music.
  • The music itself was still pretty awesome; the Beatles were approaching yet another creative peak, despite or perhaps because of the stress.
The Beatles, short on time and demanding too much of their new songs to crank out 14, went back to using covers to bolster their albums after the all-original A Hard Day's Night. By and large the song selection doesn't add to the narrative that Beatles For Sale was deliberately a negative album: "Words of Love" is very pleasant, and it's hard to read much into "Rock and Roll Music" and "Kansas City/Hey Hey Hey Hey." But the presence of covers at all, even competent, high-quality ones, is looked at as a surrender or a concession: "We have to crank out another album, but we'd need more time to write 14 songs of our own." This might not be the case exactly, but it's hard to blame them for digging down and pulling a few standbys from the back pocket.

My personal favourite is the much-maligned "Mr. Moonlight," which is if nothing else the most interesting. I love the vocal interactions built into the song, which suits the Beatles so well, the slight but jittery guitar work, and that muddy-sounding organ solo. And yet everyone else hates it.

As well, there are a few original tracks on Beatles For Sale that are not considered exceptional. You won't find too many people placing "Every Little Thing" on top of their list of favourite Beatles songs, same with "What You're Doing." And yet the truth about the Beatles at this point was that, for what they were putting out, even their less notable songs are still pretty awesome. "What You're Doing" has a sublime, muscular riff that perfectly sits in the mid-60s vibe. "Every Little Thing" has a good chorus, if not a hit-caliber one, bolstered by that little dramatic drumroll there. They are, it's said, "better recordings than songs." Not great on the page but really come alive in the studio. "I'll Follow The Sun" gets some love - Paul was responsible for all three of these songs, and this one apparently even dates back to the early years. I find that odd, since its light, sensitive lyrical matter, about moving on confidently after a break-up, sounds very "current" for the Beatles at the time of this album. While John was gaining a gift for introspection, Paul was mastering the art of writing a catch-all, the exact right level of vagueness appropriate for a pop song.

"Eight Days a Week" wasn't released as a single in the UK but was just too obviously a hit not to be one in the States. That's the kind of song you want all over the radio, with its glorious fade-in (who even does that?) It sounds like it's coming up over the horizon, a big towering thing. Lyrically and structurally, it's classic Beatles, catchy and pleasant as all hell, with a few interesting quirks to set it apart. I've also always loved the way they deliver the title phrase, keeping the pitch sharp, maintaining some giddyness. It's an oasis of positivity on this otherwise bleak album.

Bleak, I say. Not that this is a bad thing. Lennon's contributions, the oft-discussed opening trilogy of "No Reply," "I'm a Loser," and "Baby's in Black" as well as "I Don't Want To Spoil The Party," all explore negative emotions and occurrences, like rejection, doubt, frustration, and paranoia. It's hard to tell which is the best. "No Reply" has those dramatic crashes under the title phrase. "I'm a Loser" has one of the single best choruses, "I'm a loser / And I've lost someone who's near to me / I'm a loser / And I'm not what I appear to be." which is maybe a more revealing statement than was usual for a pop song.

And maybe the greatness of it was that it was still pop music. That these were still technically the friendly moptops who had only just taken America by storm less than a year earlier. In some ways it's like meeting someone really nice at a party, but an hour later they're spilling their guts about their recent party (and hey, I just told you there was a song about exactly that.) And yet somehow, they're so friendly, and charming, you hang on every word. These songs are easy to get caught up in, never overly melodramatic or bogged down by the negativity that runs through them. They aren't good because they're darker: they're good while being darker.

This is where it becomes important that the Beatles write their own material. From the shellshocked-looking cover to the title, the Beatles clearly enjoyed kidding their image a bit, apparently aware that people buying their albums were, in a sense, checking in with them every few months, and if they were being honest, this is how they felt: not like superstars but like refugees. They could form that kind of dialogue with their audience, even if it was primarily screaming girls. Maybe they knew I'd still be here 50 years later overanalyzing it. That level of openness and "authenticity" would be a defining aspect of rock and roll from then on. Rockers who don't somehow seem genuine don't get taken as seriously as the ones that do. That's why the Monkees aren't in the hall of fame.


Buy This Album: iTunes Canada // iTunes USA // Amazon.ca // Amazon.com







Tuesday, November 6, 2012

Alice Cooper, "Elected"



Happy voting, America. Don't fuck this up.

Serious Contenders: Lesley Gore, "It's My Party"



There's a reason why music is mainly for teenagers. Teenagers are still learning the world - learning what they're up against and how to deal with it. That was true in the 60's and it's true today, and there's not much difference between this Lesley Gore classic and a One Direction hit, in that respect. Songs like this walk us through the first shitty times we get thrown our way, in this case having an emotional breakdown at your own goddamn party.

Is it a brilliant song? Is there anything especially great about the lyrical depth or the musical arrangement? Not really, but it's one of those snapshots of being young and having "the feels." This is what good pop music does.

Thursday, November 1, 2012

Does It Rock? Alex Clare, "Too Close"



I wouldn't say I am inherently biased against electronic music - house, dance, dubstep, whatever variation you like. I would definitely say it's a blindspot for me, like metal, modern punk or hiphop, and of the major genres. In these cases, I'm not a fan, and I don't know what it takes to be a fan, but it's not like I don't think it can be good. Overall, that's probably the main reason that I don't try to push farther in making this a career. Genre music has been a larger and larger part of music sales for the past few years, and I am not comfortable right now, maybe never will be, telling people why a new Deadmau5 or Skrillex CD is or isn't worth their time. My thoughts on the subject are just not relevant. By and large, this site serves people like me, who aren't devoted to a particular genre, but who aren't typically consumers of Top 40 music - your Adeles and Taylor Swifts. That doesn't mean we can't or don't like Deadmau5 or Adele, but that we're less likely to be deep in their waters.

Like I said, that doesn't mean I am against electronic music. It's rarely applied in music that I would like, and then sometimes it is and I find it impressive. This Alex Clare song, which is all over the radio and in TV ads, is that sort of case. The dubstep backing underlines the tension in Clare's voice as he negotiates a typical hard-love lyric. The combination of the two, I find pretty astounding, because this is the first time, to my (uneducated) ears, dubstep hasn't just been noise for noise sake, or something patched onto another song, but a genuine song that I, someone who's into music and songwriting and rocking out, can enjoy. This is a pop song with legs, a dance song with heart, something you can either move to or sit still and appreciate.