This man is your 21st century, 24-carat, fresh-from-the-rack STAR.
Why now? After [a]Mark Morrison[/a], Another Level and the fucking [a]Lighthouse Family[/a]? And why him? A bright-eyed 19-year-old Southampton lad in pursuit of only, ahem, the natural highs? What charms elevate him above the half-arsed Lotharios and stage-schooled pretty faces? To put it simply: why is [a]Craig David[/a] the best thing to happen to British R&B, ever?
‘Born To Do It’. Perhaps the answer’s right there, because [a]Craig David[/a] has taken to stardom like it’s encoded in his genes. ‘Twas his grinning visage that made the term ‘underground garage’ a misnomer, bringing sugar-sweet soul-boy vocals to the cut-glass snare-snap of Artful Dodger‘s ‘Rewind’. But this year’s ‘Fill Me In’ proved he was no mere UK garage session musician. [a]Craig David[/a]: playing the role of the Milk Tray man for the jiggy generation – and crafting a near-perfect pop single in the process.
. It’s an equal opportunities chat-up line, baby – ‘cos [a]Craig David[/a], he cares.
The weird thing is, there’s something oddly pure – virginal, even – about the whole Craig David deal. In the sweaty hands of the bump-and-grind brigade, the phrase ‘Born To Do It’ would sound like some stale-breathed chat-up line. Here? A reference to [I]Willy Wonka And The Chocolate Factory[/I]. Meet Craig David – he’s the wide-eyed kid with the golden ticket. Aw, you’ve just gotta love him.
Frankly, it matters not a jot. ‘Born To Do It’ breathes new life into the clichis of R&B, marking out [a]Craig David[/a] as the first British contender to have an icicle’s chance in hell of cracking the Stateside R&B market since, ooh, Seal.
This man is your 21st century, 24-carat, fresh-from-the-rack STAR. [a]Craig David[/a], all over your magazine covers, all over your airwaves. [a]Craig David[/a], all over your boing.