NME's Jenny Stevens reviews this week's singles
The Magnetic Fields – ‘Quick!’
Anything but a speedy romp, Stephin Merritt’s typically acute lyrics – “What a waste of all those years/What a waste of all those tears” – would leave you sobbing into your gin if it wasn’t for the ludicrously uplifting synth bassline that sounds like a spaced-out Nelly The Elephant tramping through CBeebies.
Trailer Trash Tracys – ‘Los Angered’
Good luck trying to decipher this lyrical minefield. The vocals are wrapped in so much reverb you’ll be reaching for the smelling salts by the end of it. But such frivolous details as whether the protagonist is “killing” or “kissing” are small fodder. It’s like Kate Bush meets This Mortal Coil, with purring guitars and mentally haphazard drum skits that sound like a stray toddler bashing the shit out of a Casio.
Diagrams – ‘Ghost Lit’
This gushing, psychedelic trip of beard-stroking-knob-twiddling utopianism is such a dazzling haze of sonic wizardry, it’s easy to miss the rather sinister undercurrent: “We are killing ourselves with the softest smiles” swoons Sam Genders, like some sort of folktronic Brother Grimm ready to snap you out of a hook-induced euphoria by boiling your bones for breakfast.
Rita Ora ft Tinie Tempah – ‘RIP’
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“Sexy siñorita, I feel your aura/ I’ll make you call me daddy, even though you ain’t my daughter”. Oh Tinie. With such tender missives, how do you spare the time to think of any lyrics at all, such must be the magnetic pull of your oft-thrusting groin? Match that with Ora’s bleats of “I’m ready for you” and you’ve got a winning combination of mass-market pop fodder.
Gossip – ‘Perfect World’
Beth Ditto does Bonnie Tyler. Christ alive, is the world ready for such an Earth-realigning moment? Close your eyes, grab your fists and find some strategically placed crepe fabric to swish through, because this is three minutes and 49 seconds of the most ridiculous, gothic-window-silhouetted, arm-flailing, candlelit power balladry the world has seen since 1983.
The Subways – ‘Kiss Kiss Bang Bang’
For the love of God, somebody please call up The Subways and tell them it’s 2012. We’ve got the first black president in the White House. The Arab Spring happened. Aung San Suu Kyi was released from prison. The world has moved on. And the only decent thing to do is kiss kiss and bang bang this monosyllabic, landfill-indie incarnate drivel back to the mid-noughties.