#St Asaph Classic Car Show

[andersonmald]

MG TF (1954) por Steve Glover Por Flickr: St Asaph Classic Car Show 20/04/2014

#MG #St Asaph Classic Car Show #Flickr #Classic Car #PTF179 #Oldtimer #Voiture Classique #Coche Clasico #Auto d'epoca #Motorcar #Automobile #Auto #Car Photo #Car Image #Car Photograph #Car Picture #Old Car

[thesinglesjukebox]

LIZZO FT. MISSY ELLIOTT - TEMPO

[6.75]

I suppose this would be an Allegretto...

Alex Clifton: This is a dream combination -- not sure how these two hadn't worked together before. I now judge high-energy songs on whether or not they'd be good to run to (weird metric but it's been working so far) and the beat on "Tempo" is a winner -- easy to keep pace to, easy to dance to, easy to get stuck in your head. I'm also delighted that we have a song with the lyric "thick thighs save lives." I'm not as in love with this as I was with "Juice," but Lizzo continues to sound good as hell. [7]

Stephen Eisermann: At this point, I'm starting to wonder if Lizzo will ever release an objectively bad song; her track record is pretty flawless. I first heard "Tempo" in the car while dancing at my sister's wedding reception this past weekend. My sister has always been curvier, and it was a big concern for her on her wedding day, but she seemed as confident as I'd ever seen her Saturday -- that is, until this song came on. Gone was the quiet confidence of my sister dancing politely to "Suavemente," "El Sinaloense" and "La Negra Tiene Tumbao" and instead out came a whole new Liz, one who was twerking in the center of her dance floor while all of my Mexican Catholic family watched, shook, wondering what happened to the self-conscious girl of before. But that's what Lizzo does, constantly. She takes a hot beat and empowers you, either with some feel-good rap or, as is the case here, some good provocation. Even if Missy's verse feels incomplete, it doesn't matter, because Lizzo came to play and it's hard to hate on confidence that sounds, feels, and looks this good. [8]

Katherine St Asaph: I don't dance, and any confidence boost the lyrics might provide slams fatally against the fact that the external world views my body as a collection of misshapen, unsightly, useless parts, an awareness I can't just turn off. (Which is the case for every song like this.) This song isn't for me. It doesn't help that the "When Doves Cry" guitar squall and Missy's verse, where she turns into Chingy, completely overpower Lizzo's subdued verses, which isn't supposed to happen at all. [3]

David Moore: The way Missy Elliott finds a little flicker of an idea and kindles it into a blaze of inspired silliness is always a thrill, but here it serves the counter-productive purpose of revealing the weakness of the rest of the track -- Lizzo's enthusiasm and ebullience can't hold a candle to Missy's lark. [6]

Alfred Soto: It's not twenty seconds old before "Tempo" blasts us with a distorted funk riff and the too long gone Missy Elliott. Nothing's changed -- "twerk skills are legendary" you knew. The chorus flickers, disappears. Chorus? Who needs one when Lizzo and Missy compete for sound effect attention? [7]

Tobi Tella: This collaboration feels epic in the same way Christina Aguilera and Demi did, a symbolic torch passing from old-school to new-school from two similar artists. Lizzo has Missy's classic swagger and flair, and the fact that she hasn't lost any of her uniqueness as she becomes more and more mainstream is truly something to be commended. This bangs as hard as anything she's ever released, and hopefully it becomes our generation's body positivity anthem over some more questionable songs... [8]

Katie Gill: I am always here for a bonafide ass shaking song, especially when it starts off with such an amazingly fun guitar riff like this one. The song is a beautiful cacophony and plays with sound in such a fun way, shifting from that minimalist beat to air horns & sirens, only to almost IMMEDIATELY drop back to the beat. And it's clear that Missy is having a blast, making the most out of every 'r' she gets to roll. This song is pure unadulterated fun, an ass shaking song that knows exactly what it is and spends the right amount of time crafting everything to near perfection. [8]

Iris Xie: Never thought I'd be so happy to hear "Truffle Butter" again, but I like "Tempo" and its version of that pinging synth more. "Tempo" takes that initial synth and layers it underneath with a heavy bass and a stop-start militaristic rhythm that makes the atmosphere simultaneously warm and domineering, and Lizzo's command is ice cold, casual, and driven. She's absolutely done with anyone telling her she can't command the dance floor, and whoops, she now is! The verse that starts with "pitty-pat" and ends with "cat" winds up your dance moves and is pretty much twerk material. But Missy, that sweet deliverer of unflinching vision, sonically grabs the theme of the song and busts out all the 'rrrs~'. But then she becomes very rude in the best way, and creates her own equivalent of a feature stage at 2:05 by changing it to a melted stadium band that sounds like the equivalent of lightning charging, with a brief drum clatter solo that sits with you long after it comes back to Lizzo dictating you to fuck it up to the tempo. But most importantly? The entire sentiment of the song is for any big girls (and anyone who identifies with those sentiments) who have ever felt really bad about moving on the dance floor -- it was never your problem, it was always the boring-ass "slow songs." And if that's really not one of the best ways I've ever heard about taking up space in clubs that can be hostile to those who don't have normative bodies, I don't know what else is. [9]

Jonathan Bradley: Eight bars of Missy rhyming tongue trills is worth the admission, but this beat isn't fucking anything up: the bass knocks but it doesn't move. A modulating arpeggio sounds like a placeholder waiting for the finished edit. Lizzo matches the effort; her last appearance round here underserved her personality, but here it's like she's waiting for a reason to show up. What she does offer are some very rote verses and a chorus that isn't sure it's not a verse. It's quite demure, even if you don't start to think on how unrestrained Missy could be in her heyday. [5]

Joshua Copperman: You know that old friend you had in high school that was into the same kind of music you were into? You said you'd stay in touch but grew apart from them because they were in a different, faster crowd than you? That's Lizzo. Her BJ Burton "artsy-fartsy phase" spawned some stellar, aggressive music, but her major-label music is more fun and positive to somewhat mixed results. Oak (of "Pop &" fame) made a manic beat more reminiscent of those early days, but the actual content is light enough to make room for cat puns including "prrr me a glass." It's a shame she won't go back to that earlier, more raw music when rappers like Cupcakke balance the high-concept antics with brutal honesty, but it's clear that's not what Lizzo feels like doing. That artsy phase increasingly feels like something she overcame than something she plans on revisiting. You occasionally hear back from that high school friend, but it's clear that they were never going to be the person you wanted them to be. But it's better to accept that because they're happier and freer the way they are now. They should really put away the guitar, though. [7]

Joshua Minsoo Kim: Two overrated artists release a song that sounds exactly like you'd expect? I find the fireworks and beat switch fake-outs more exciting than the vocals. When the song ends, I'm left with... nothing, really. Lizzo's recent singles have all been ordinary crowd pleasers, the sort of standard we should have for solid stock music. "Juice" felt like Facetuned Prince. "Tempo" is similarly watered down. [3]

Nortey Dowuona: *incoherent babbling* Lizzo going in *MORE INCOHERENT SHRIEKING* Missy going in *GLEEFUL HOWLS OF TORMENT AND JOY* A small Afro was found on top of the MSNBC offices yesterday. *sounds of confusion and slight annoyance* [10]

[Read, comment and vote on The Singles Jukebox]

#Lizzo #Missy Elliott #rap #hip hop #pop #music #music review #writing

[swipestream]

Sensor Sweep: Windy City Pulp Show, King Arthur, Star Wars Target Audience, Model T in Combat

Conventions (DMR Books): The 19th annual Windy City Pulp and Paper Convention took place this past weekend in Lombard, IL. It was a three-day affair, but unfortunately I was only able to attend for part of the day on Saturday. Five hours may seem like a good amount of time, but it wasn’t nearly enough to take in all the event had to offer.

Doug Ellis and Deb Fulton were gracious enough to share some of their table space with me so I could peddle DMR releases.

    Anthologies (Tip the Wink): This nineteen story anthology is edited by one of Baen’s best, Hank Davis. Though the book is pretty new, the stories range from as early as the Thirties all the way to now. So I think it qualifies as a Friday Forgotten Book for it’s contents. For the most part, this is the kind of science fiction I grew up on and still love.

  Fiction (Old Style Tales): Doyle’s final great horror story is truly a worthy swan song – a tale who’s science fiction maintains a level of effective awe in spite of having been categorically disproven by aviators a mere decade after being written. And indeed the tale is science fiction, fitting snuggly on a shelf between the speculative horror of H. G. Wells which preceded it and the cosmic terror of H. P. Lovecraft which succeeded it.e cosmic terror of H. P. Lovecraft which succeeded it.

    Myth (Men of the West): Of all these Latin chroniclers by far the most important was Geoffrey of Monmouth, Bishop of St. Asaph, who finished his “History of the Britons” about 1147. Geoffrey, as has been said, is not a real historian, but something much more interesting. He introduced to the world the story of King Arthur, which at once became the source and centre of hundreds of French romances, in verse or prose, and of poetry down to Tennyson and William Morris. To Geoffrey, or to later English chroniclers who had read Geoffrey, Shakespeare owed the stories of his plays, “Cymbeline” and “King Lear”.

  Authors (DMR Books): James Branch Cabell, who was born on April 14, 1879–just over one hundred forty years ago–has slipped into genteel literary obscurity. An author once praised and befriended by the likes of Mark Twain, F. Scott Fitzgerald and Sinclair Lewis, JBC had his entire fantasy epic, known as “The Biography of the Life of Manuel,” printed in a uniform hardcover eighteen-volume set at the height of his popularity in the 1920s and early ’30s. He was, by far, the preeminent American literary fantasist of that era. And yet, he is barely known outside hardcore literary fantasy circles now.

  Cinema (Rough Edges): I didn’t mean to write about two Raoul Walsh movies in a row, but that’s the way it’s worked out after last week’s post on DESPERATE JOURNEY. COLORADO TERRITORY is a Western remake from 1949 of the Humphrey Bogart classic HIGH SIERRA, also directed by Walsh eight years earlier in 1941. Both are based on the novel HIGH SIERRA by W.R. Burnett. In COLORADO TERRITORY, Joel McCrea plays outlaw Wes McQueen, in prison for robbing banks and trains, who is broken out so he can take part in a payroll heist from a train in Colorado.

  Popular Culture (Jon Mollison): Long time genre fans expect to see the usual Boomer perspectives.  Naturally, his version of the story of science fiction begins and ends with the era of the Boomers. To be fair, he is a film guy making a film about film people, so it’s no surprise that his documentary would ignore the foundational stories of the genre.  It does start with HG Wells, but then skips straight past four decades of science fiction to land on rubber monster B-movies. The usual Big Pub diversity hires get trotted out to offer Narrative Approved talking points about how the genre has matured under the careful guidance of perverts like Arthur C. Clarke without a mention of giants like Howard and Burroughs and Lovecraft and Merritt and the rest of the True Golden Age writers.

  Star Wars (Kairos): Two cultural observations that have repeatedly been made on this blog are that Star Wars has been weaponized against its original fans and that decadent Westerners are perverting normal pious sentiment by investing it in corporate pop culture products. Now a viral video has surfaced that documents the unholy confluence of both phenomena. Watch only if you haven’t eaten recently.

  Cinema (Mystery File): I’ve spoken often and highly of Fredric Brown;s classic mystery novel of strip-clubs and theology, The Screaming Mimi (Dutton, 1949) and recently betook myself to watching both film versions of it, side-by-side and back-to-back, through the miracle of VCRm watching a chunk of one, then the other, than back again…

  Pulps (John C. Wright): So what, exactly, makes the weird tales and fantastic stories of that day and age so “problematic”?

The use of lazy racial stereotypes, did you say? This generation has just as many or worse ones, merely with the polarities reversed. See the last decade of Star Wars, Star Trek, Doctor Who and Marvel comics franchises, for examples.

The portrayal of women as weak damsels in distress? I will happily compare any number of Martian princesses or pirate queens from the pulp era to the teen bimbos routinely chopped up in the torture porn flicks of this generation, and let the matter of malign portrayals of women speak for itself.

  Fiction (Nerds on Earth): Howard Andrew Jones (who we’ve interviewed not once, but twice!) strikes that balance masterfully in For the Killing of Kings, the first book of an expected series. The book drops the reader right at the moment when a scandal in the Allied Realms begins. This controversy involves the legendary weapon of the most famous commander of the vaunted Altenerai Corps, N’lahr. Jones doesn’t even let two pages pass before the reader is invited into the discovery that something is wrong with this magic-infused sword, and it is that problem that carries the book’s action from start to finish.

            History (Black Gate): Enter the Western Frontier Force, a hastily assembled group of men from all parts of the empire that included two of the war’s many innovations. The first was the Light Car Patrol, made up of Model T Fords that had been stripped of all excess weight (even the hood and doors) so they could run over soft sand. Many came equipped with a machine gun. Heavier and slower were the armored cars, built on the large Rolls Royce chassis and sporting a turret and machine gun.

  Westerns (Tainted Archive): Geographically and historically the concept of “The West” is very loosely defined, when associated with the literary and film genre of the western. With the possible exception of the Eastern Seaboard almost every part of the USA had been called “The West” at some stage in the country’s history.

  Authors (John C. Wright): Gene Wolfe passed at his Peoria home from cardiovascular disease on April 14, 2019 at the age of 87.

This man is one of two authors who I was able to read with undiminished pleasure as a child, youth, man and master.

I met him only briefly at science fiction conventions, and was truly impressed by his courtesy and kindness. We shared a love of GK Chesterton. I never told him how I cherished his work, and how important his writings were to me.

  Authors (Rich Horton): Gene Wolfe died yesterday, April 14, 2019 (Palm Sunday!) His loss strikes me hard, as hard as the death last year of Ursula K. Le Guin. Some while I ago I wrote that Gene Wolfe was the best writer the SF field has ever produced. Keeping in mind that comparisons of the very best writers are pointless — each is brilliant in their own way — I’d say that now I’d add Le Guin and John Crowley and make a trinity of great SF writers, but the point stands — Wolfe’s work was tremendous, deep, moving, intellectually and emotionally involving, ambiguous in the best of ways, such that rereading him is ever rewarding, always resolving previous questions while opening up new ones.

Cartoons (Wasteland and Sky): One small loss of the modern age I’ve always been interested in is the death of the Saturday morning cartoon.

For over half a century they have lingered in the memories of just about everyone alive in the western world as part of some long ago age that will never return. But nobody talks about them beyond nostalgic musings. The problem with that is they require a deeper look than that. I don’t think it’s clear exactly why they do not exist anymore, and it is important why they do not.

  Fiction (Tip the Wink): It’s the stories, not the book, that are forgotten here. From the publisher’s website:

“Known best for his work on Popular Publications’ The Spider, pulp scribe Norvell Page proved he was no slouch when it came to penning gangster and G-man epics! This book collects all eleven stories Page wrote for “Ace G-Man Stories” between 1936 and 1939, which are reprinted here for the first time!”

      RPG (Modiphius): Horrors of the Hyborian Age is the definitive guide to the monstrous creatures inhabiting the dark tombs, ruined cities, forgotten grottos, dense jungles, and sinister forests of Conan’s world. This collection of beasts, monsters, undead, weird races, and mutants are ready to pit their savagery against the swords and bravery of the heroes of the Hyborian Age.

Drawn from the pages of Robert E. Howard’s Conan stories, this roster also includes creatures and alien horrors from H.P. Lovecraft’s Cthulhu Mythos, to which Howard inextricably bound his Hyborian Age. Other entries are original, chosen carefully to reflect the tone and dangers of Conan’s world.

Sensor Sweep: Windy City Pulp Show, King Arthur, Star Wars Target Audience, Model T in Combat published first on https://medium.com/@ReloadedPCGames

[thesinglesjukebox]

CHARLI XCX - BOYS [6.72] Who's looking for a good time?

Eleanor Graham: Video game noises will only ever be cute. They will never be evocative in the way that a synth line, a "woah" or even a "hey" can be. They may serve once or twice as punctuation but they cannot, aided only by a one-syllable word, carry a hook. But I do like the languorous glitter plod of this. And the sugar rush of bridge: "I was miles away, yeah!" I love to have fun, honestly. I'm just bitter because the video coerced me into a crush on [redacted]. [5]

Anthony Easton: The video is a masterpiece, a weaponized, high femme, millennial pink reworking of the ironic/not-ironic gender trouble of Collier Schorr -- made even more disturbing by finding out how hot I find Charlie Puth. The song, with its hint of Super Mario coins like a wink against capitalism, with the minimal drum beat like blood flowing from the heart to more southern regions, that laconic kind of delivery that suggests a louche moral decadence. Plus, how she sings the phrase ring tone, is almost as good, as ear wormy, as the perfect hook line of "I'm sorry, I missed your party." [10]

Nellie Gayle: 'I need that bad boy to do me right on a Friday/ 'And I need that good one to wake me up on a Sunday/'That one from work can come over on Monday night/ I want em all.' Never have the bubblegum archetypes of boy toys been so clearly joyously articulated as in Charli XCX's newest single. A pop star who clearly enjoys taking the piss out of that title (when once asked about why she liked her single 'Break the Rules' in an interview, she replied 'I like that it's so . . stupid'), Charli revels in the stereotypes of boy crazy, partied out girls. The many 'types' of girls have been outlined throughout the pop cannon - there are crazy girls, there are fun girls, there are dirty girls. In one way or another, Charli XCX has inhabited all of these personas for the sake of great, EDM-laced pop. In the video for 'Boys', she takes her own routine objectification (which she usually handles with amusement more than anger), and casually tosses it back to pop culture's finest dudes. Stormzy munches on some fruit loops, Joe Jonas licks his ice cream mustache, Diplo should presses some poodles. Saturated in bright colors, these visuals will come to mind every time you relisten to 'Boys.' It's a wink to gender roles that is cuter than it is inflammatory, and like all of Charli's best moves, it's best described as 'fun.' [8]

Maxwell Cavaseno: Functional to a certain level of flatness that Charli's wound herself around to the point that I'm never sure if it's her strength or her weakness. Still for the sake of all this melancholy gazing, and the spry little chip-tune punctuations, that bleakness serves as a complimentary sense of boredom, an audible fluster of the lips and sigh at something that feels more frustrating than it ever needs to be. Odd to find something so disappointed in itself could be so satisfying. [6]

Dorian Sinclair: Charli XCX sure is a chameleon, isn't she? There's a sort of dreamy wistfulness here we haven't heard from her too often, and with a different performer I suspect it could quickly become saccharine. But the wryness she brings to most of her performances is here as well, and that combined with the humour in the lyrics (and that adorable chiptune sample) has ensured that, since I first heard it, I've been busy thinkin' bout "Boys." [8]

Alfred Soto: Chirping wistfully like Philip Oakey and Giorgio Moroder, the synths and Charli XCX turn "Boys" into a tuneful flutter. Who wouldn't get wistful at the thought of absent boys or the boys we can't have? [6]

Julian Axelrod: Once you get past the instant-classic video (and lord knows I haven't) you realize "Boys" is a work of pop genius. The chorus is one of those brilliantly simple, universally relatable, deliriously catchy gems every songwriter wishes they'd thought of first. But the real magic is in the verses, as Charli reveals her thirst has left her friends out to dry. "I wish I had a better excuse like/I had to trash the hotel lobby" is such a perfect line, adding nuance and depth to both the song and Charli's party monster persona. (Which makes it all the more fascinating that she doesn't have a songwriting credit here.) The song becomes more resonant the more you listen: Who among us hasn't abandoned (or been abandoned by) a friend for some fleeting affection? That's what makes "Boys" so sublime: Like all great pop songs, it's really about friendship. [9]

Crystal Leww: Much fuss has been made about this music video, but the song itself is so dreamy, conjuring images of sunshine and grass fields. I am not sure if Charli XCX will ever get to be a huge pop star, but I don't care; her music feels so atmospheric and familiar, like it sits in the bottom of your stomach and wriggles through your brain and body. "Boys" has stuck with me for days, whisking me away from sweaty subway cars in the morning back to the weekend afternoons in the sun. [8]

Thomas Inskeep: I really hope that the viral popularity of this video leads to "Boys" going overground and Charli XCX becoming a real, big pop star in the US (I know that "Boom Clap" was a top 10 single three years ago, but that was three years ago), not only because she's one of our best purveyors of pop right now, but because "Boys" is relentlessly, charmingly cute. It's purposefully underproduced, and thus sounds very low-key and almost quiet, in a highly endearing manner. And besides, who of us isn't guilty of missing ______ because we were "busy thinkin' 'bout boys"? [8]

Joshua Copperman: A song about the female gaze and a video for the male gaze. Well, to quote a show that this might fit well on, it's a little more nuanced than that - there's nothing here that suggests that she's attracted to masculinity or manliness, unlike, say, "he's so tall and handsome as hell", and Charli's narrator is more in love with the idea of BOYS! than actual boys. (Swap out boys for "girls" and it's a Mary Lambert song, but that might be part of the point.) It's an interesting step after the #1 Angel mixtape managed to blend the PC Music stuff she was doing with something more accessible - this is full-tilt accessible, but with just enough edge from Charli's breathy performance to ensure that it stays true to her weirder side. [7]

Anjy Ou: I was surprised that Kero Kero Bonito didn't write or produce this - "Boys" hits that sweet spot between mainstream pop and Japanese bedroom pop that she's so good at, especially at the beginning. Charli, ever the pop chameleon, gives this sound her own self-indulgent twist, with lyrics about ditching a hard-partying lifestyle to swoon over her many suitors. Its blips are cute and sweet, and she cruises languidly through the song, like she wrote this the morning after while still in her pink cloud of peak crush. It would be a bit too basic for me, but someone set this song to a video of my favourite k-pop boy band and suddenly everything made sense. [7]

Katherine St Asaph: I mean, I too have had a crush on every boy, but this is just the languid parts of "Grins" severed from the exciting ones, or "What I Like" without the specificity and sex, or "I Don't Like Anyone" with trap vocals, Super Mario Bros. coins and emotional anemia. It's not that the older Charli XCX grows the less mature her music does -- that's too easy -- but the more detached she grows from anticipation or euphoria or danger, all those things boys can do. I suppose it's novel that the video's full of cutesy-alluring boys rather than cutesy-alluring girls to distract from a lack of substance, but there too, I prefer men. [4]

Stephen Eisermann: Anyone has ever felt "boy crazy" probably had the same mixture of nostalgia and anxiety while listening to this song for the first time. My first thought was immediately, "omg Stephen, don't overplay this song or say you relate, just be cool, even if this is a blog straight from your now deleted Tumblr," but it quickly became "damn Charli... you get me." Charli makes efforts to disguise or explain herself for this all too common phase and instead simply admits that, yeah, she was thinking about dudes. This willingness to be vulnerable, because yes, admitting you think about the gender you are sexually attracted to often is showing vulnerability, plays well against the quiet composition, and the bell/high pitched sound that plays after every time Charli says Boys perfectly sums up the feeling of butterflies that often accompanies those thoughts. All in all, a terrific effort and only made better by a simple yet colorful video that shows all the different kinds of boys we are attracted to, even if I could've done with a bit more brown goodness in the video. [8]

Will Rivitz: There's so much to love about "Boys," but I think the part most telling of Charli XCX's genius is the utter perfection of its chorus. It's quintessential Charli: though superficially inane, it captures in four perfect lines her bittersweetly self-reflective ethos. She doesn't really have any excuse for blowing her friends off -- she wishes she did, it'd make things a lot easier -- but the swell of life and love and just everything worth caring about got in the way, so she let things happen. It's a beautiful perspective, "stop and smell the roses" restated freshly and eloquently in the face of a neon facade Charli doesn't really care to hold up at the moment, the one people usually think of when they think of her. Charli XCX juggles personas adroitly, but I don't think that's so much a function of her skill inhabiting multiple characters as much as it is her skill at expressing the complexities of human experience as, y'know, complexities, as opposed to hammered-down stubs which fit a general narrative arc too cleanly. Here, she discards the party-girl aesthetic of Number 1 Angel for a more passive outlook, but the beauty of "Boys" is that the two attitudes never feel contradictory. No matter who a person is or what they act like, sometimes it's ok for their head to be in the clouds. [9]

Will Adams: That Charli XCX has done the hyper-crush premise many times before shouldn't be a deterrent -- it's where she excels. The problem with "Boys" is that it replaces the textured sonics of True Romance with tinny snares and overused GameBoy switch-ons and the ebullience of "Boom Clap" with the dead-eyed stare of "After the Afterparty." [4]

Edward Okulicz: Eh, I preferred it when Charli XCX was a whip-smart songwriter who made cool, indelible, effortless pop. Now her effort seems to end with the concept, because beyond its catchy monomania and shareable video, there's not anything else here. [3]

Jonathan Bradley: "Boys" wafts like a daydream: it's an insular and domestic song, a pastel doodle in a diary's margin or a decorated bedroom wall. Kitty Pryde knows how effectively these rough drafts can invoke the intensity of little infatuations. Charli's rough draft is very rough though, and the chiptune chirrups of "Boys" are aggressive in their flimsiness. It gets old to be reiterating this with each new single Charli puts out, but PC Music's conviction that it constitutes a clever deconstruction of pop to make a kind that sounds deliberately shoddy is not an interesting one, and Charli's embrace of their approach has squandered her talents. Here, she dials up her natural insouciance -- a playfulness fitting for the subject matter -- to the point it seems she can barely be bothered delivering the lyric. The performativity undermines the persona; this isn't a song about crushes on boys, but a song about Charli knowing how much we all want to enjoy a song about crushes on boys. [4]

Joshua Minsoo Kim: It took a dozen listens before I realized the song's ephemeral, almost nondescript nature works strongly in its favor. This is the sound of an instinctual sigh that appears while daydreaming, and Charli XCX captures that perfectly when she intonates "boys." The subtle details here -- the water samples, the ticking, the ringing phone -- never feel intrusive, thankfully. Which means that for these short three minutes, the fantasy never dies. [7]

[Read, comment and vote on The Singles Jukebox ]

#Charli XCX #Boys

[thesinglesjukebox]

AULI'I CRAVALHO - HOW FAR I'LL GO [6.20] ...Maybe we should stick to Disney...

Alfred Soto: My nieces love Moana; I've had the screener on my desk for two months. The most indelible Disney anthems combine melody, well-placed zingers, and a core of showbiz feeling that's accessible to any child interested in self-dramatization. "How Far I'll Go" has the blank universality of a Diane Warren ballad. [4]

Mark Sinker: I assume by now there are classes taught in the conventions of the modern Disney musical -- the shapes the melodies take, which notes to hold, the forms, the means of the build. Practical classes taught composing them; maybe theory classes taught recognising and interpreting them. It's not a bad thing, this web of rules -- in fact it's what's allowed the genre to combine maintain popularity while deepening its emotional range and subtlety from picture to picture. But it does tend to mean that songs are generally stronger within the musical they're from, and only now and then break free as stand-alones. "How Far I'll Go" is no "Let It Go" -- to detail the tricks that make this so, you'd probably have to attend some of the classes. [6]

Leonel Manzanares: Ah, the classic Disney "I Want" song. "How Far I'll Go" does a very good job defining Moana's inner struggle -- and pretty much establishing everything you need to know about her character at that point -- but the track itself is a bit underwhelming. A bigger production and a bit more vocal intensity could have prevented it from sounding like one of those Eurovision ballads that miss the final by one point. [6]

Dorian Sinclair: This ticks all the boxes for a musical theatre "I Want" song: it tells you who the character is, what she wants, and what's standing in her way. It does so in a distinct and memorable way, though -- I'm particularly fond of the rocking melody, which feels perfect for a song about the ocean, and of the way the first chorus runs into the second verse, pulling you forward. Cravalho's performance, as well, shows a really keen awareness of how best to pull out the text. But points are lost for the chorus being generically belty and for the ridiculously abrupt ending. [7]

Katie Gill: It wouldn't surprise me if Lin Manuel Miranda became the next Alan Menken. Both are formidable Broadway(ish) composers with a talent for mimicking different styles and making songs that sound a bit like other songs. Just as "Part of Your World" reminds you a bit too much of "Somewhere That's Green," "How Far I'll Go" reminds me a bit too much of the last minute of "Waiting For Life." It's not one of the better songs from Moana -- I still have absolutely no idea why "You're Welcome" wasn't nominated for the Oscar instead. Still, I've had SEE THE LIGHT WHERE THE SKY MEETS THE SEA IT CAAAAAAAALLS ME stuck in my head since I saw the film in November, so that's gotta count for something. [7]

Jonathan Bradley: I haven't seen Moana, so when I listen to "How Far I'll Go," I hear a well-crafted centerpiece showtune: stirring, melodically lovely, yet with its themes drawn in unforgivingly bold lines. And these are very familiar themes for American children's entertainment, an explication of cultural ideologies of self-determination, of forging one's own path and striking out from an established social milieu. Musicals, though, are supposed to be broadly drawn, and even as I first watched this song in video form, I understood better its emotional beats, the narrative context in which its protagonist's frustrations became specific and more relatable. There were a number of very stupid thinkpieces that tried to reduce Lin-Manuel Miranda's Hamilton to pop song and not theater, and "How Far I'll Go," which he wrote, is better appreciated as the latter, as evidenced by Cravalho's superior performance to that of Alessia Cara in her radio-ready version (c.f Demi Lovato and Idina Menzel with "Let It Go"). A comparison between Usher's remake of Hamilton's "Wait For It" and Leslie Odom Jr.'s demonstrates too how the actor's and the pop singer's task requires different talents of musical interpretation, with one filling out the emotions unwritten and the other living the ones that are, and Cravalho's best recommendation is how well she performs the actor's role. All the more incentive to head to the box office, then. [7]

Jessica Doyle: Moana is my new favorite Disney princess ("But I'm not--") but Moana is not great; it feels hemmed in. You can imagine that, with so few examples of Pacific Islander protagonists to choose from, the pressure was on to make these characters relatable but still good, capable. So the writers didn't want to make Moana's father a misogynist, and thus the father-daughter conflict feels forced; they didn't want to insult Moana by giving her a love interest, so her conflict with Maui hits the same beats over and over again. Moana even gets a redefinition of the idea of "princess," with an emphasis on power instead of tiaras--but she has to recognize her responsibility from the start, rather than start out self-centered and grow into it like Ariel (or Elsa and Anna, for that matter). In other words: it's not easy to plot around a central figure whose tragic flaw isn't tragic, or even off-putting. The lack of tension shows in "How Far I'll Go," where the writers end up repeating "island" in the second verse for a cute-cute-and-cute effect. But given the constraints, I'm not sure Howard Ashman himself would've done much better. In short: #WeNeedDiverseFilms so we can have better songs. [4]

Katherine St Asaph: The quality of Disney musical themes is chosen purely by consensus; critics mean nothing. "Let It Go" sounded like a lesser "Defying Gravity" ripoff back then too. [4]

Cassy Gress: In general, I thought the best songs in Moana were the ones that Opetaia Foa'i wrote or co-wrote, and not so much the Lin-Manuel solo ones, but as big Disney songs go, this is a keeper mostly due to that soaring, longing chorus. You can take or leave the pre-choruses, which feel somewhat rushed and/or underwritten, and you can definitely leave the groanworthy "I know everybody on this island / has a role on this island / so maybe I can roll with mine." But the warm brass in those choruses, resolving from Vsus4 to V, and the flute(?) arpeggiating like the sun as it shines on the sea, and just the pure heart-squeezing joy in Auli'i's voice on "it calls me." I identified a bit too strongly with Moana's desire to see the world beyond her island when I saw this movie, and months later, it's still hard for me to listen too intently to this without getting a little choked up. [7]

Lauren Gilbert: I probably should not admit in public how many times I've sung along to this in my car. It's a Disney song, full of the usual cliches about finding your path and listening to your heart; it fits neatly with "Reflection" from Mulan and "Let It Go", but I can't bring myself to care. I'm 26 years old, and this song brought me to tears; and maybe it's the quarter-life crisis speaking, but Auli'i Cravalho's voice is perfect and pure and piercing and I'm crying again. I've spent too many nights awake wondering what's wrong with me, wishing I could be the perfect daughter, and Moana's fulfillment makes me hope for my own. I haven't found my wind and sail yet, but maybe I still will. [10]

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#Auli'i Cravalho #How Far I'll Go #Moana

[thesinglesjukebox]

FIONA APPLE - SHAMEIKA

[7.20]

Fetch the sidebar...

Tobi Tella: Fetch The Bolt Cutters was ascended to classic status by The Discourse as soon as it was released, and it doesn't surprise me that so many people find value, because Fiona's writing always functions on eight different layers of aware. What I connect with most about this is the self-awareness that Shameika probably truly could give less of a fuck about this petty middle school drama now, but the comment was so internalized that a whole song has stemmed from it decades later. Everyone has moments that are insignificant to everyone else that have informed your entire life and flare up constantly. The fact that the statement is encouraging makes it even sadder; negative comments feel designed to stick in your brain, but pumping yourself up with backhanded compliments given to your 12-year-old self is pathetic in a way most artists would never share with their listeners. [8]

Alex Clifton: A whirling hurricane of a piano line combined with doses of humour and emotion, jazzy and inventive and just plain fun to experience. We all have our own Shameika experience, buried deep -- some comment from another kid that definitely does not remember you now, as an adult, but the words stick forever. There's a really lovely tenderness in the way Apple recounts this memory, the fact that Shameika was never a friend, but bolstered her confidence in a way few others ever could. Small acts of kindness can go a long way, and that's a lovely nugget to remember these days. [10]

Katherine St Asaph: The Fiona Apple Discourse has arrived, maybe belatedly but inevitably, and as increasingly common my stance isn't any of the usual Am I The Asshole voting options. My stance: The Idler Wheel is Fiona Apple's masterpiece, the genius coronation should have happened then, and in happening belatedly it happened for an album that, while good, is lesser. It's not that nothing sounds like Fetch the Bolt Cutters, it's that people forget the stuff that sounds like it exists. (The artist most obviously musically influenced by Fiona Apple is Amanda Palmer, but the culture isn't ready for that conversation. Mostly.) "Shameika" is experimental perhaps, but more than that it's theatrical, like a dramatic monologue. Apple writes another runaway-calliope piano line, kin to "Left Alone" or "Fast As You Can," and structures musical cues and lyrical asides written as vaudeville -- on lines like "that just made the bullies worse," you can practically hear the spotlight and the phantom ba-dum-tish. She vamps, gives herself a Greek chorus, toward the end almost raps; there's the sense that she's just barely keeping up with the tempo and the clatter, a straightforward metaphor for the tempo and clatter inside her mind. Normally I love all these things and wouldn't mind millions more, so why does "Shameika" feel slightly lesser? Some of it is subjective -- I'm a cat person, so "my dog and my man and my music is my holy trinity" hits roughly the same way as "heckin' doggo." But some of it may not just be me. As Apple as a composer and vocalist has grown more freewheeling, less predictable, Apple as a lyricist has grown more didactic, not always for the better. This is most apparent on "Under the Table," but the bridge here does it, too, as does the titular Shameika, here to dispense affirmation. It's one thing for Apple to write about specific but anonymous men (see "this guy, what a guy") and something else when it's a named, likely black kid from middle school whom she barely remembered beyond a blessing that doesn't entirely sound like a compliment. Apple doesn't idealize her ("Shameika wasn't gentle and she wasn't my friend") or turn her into a reaction GIF (the memes, though...), but for an artist whose writing is usually hyper-meticulously examined, this feels a bit un-examined. One senses, palpably, another side to the story. [6]

Edward Okulicz: It's the Fiona Apple origin story! Well, it's a Fiona Apple origin story, as good a place as any to come to know this iteration of Fiona Apple. Her piano is, in isolation, a bit of a rollicking good time, and in context, like a rimshot trailing behind every word picture. They're good pictures too -- crunching leaves, the sound of a riding crop on her leg -- making "Shameika" a crisp, well-paced vignette. Google reports a 500 per cent increase in searches for "is the piano a percussion instrument or a stringed instrument" in the last month. [8]

Jacob Sujin Kuppermann: Fiona Apple's songwriting most commonly focuses solely on her own self-- or at most, her self and some invisible, off-stage figure of longing or derangement. So the strangeness of "Shameika" is in the way it hinges so much of its emotional weight on more coherent others-- the title character, who is defined solely in the context of Apple's reaction to her, but also Tony and Sebastian and her dog and her man. It's a strangeness that's not entirely productive. The way the track slows down and clangs around whenever Shameika gets brought up feels weighty and unproductive, especially given the chaotic grace with which Apple navigates the rest of the song. And at the end of it all, "Shameika" feels like a tokenized figure, not allowed to exist outside of Apple's grand cosmos of the self. It's still thrilling, but there's a certain hollowness at its center. [6]

Alfred Soto: To what degree listeners will accept -- never mind forgive -- the Magical Negro Dictum at work depends on how compelling they find Fiona Apple and Amy Aileen Wood's talent for playing drums as if it were a piano and how the chorus piano line hints at a cha-cha. If taken at face value, which I don't, "Shameika" depicts a teenage woman confronted by sundry opinions about her self-presentation. Everyone mentioned she assimilated as every artist must.Whatever else, Shameika or whoever was right about Apple's potential. [8]

Juana Giaimo: I listened to Fiona Apple's album only once. It was alright; I didn't not enjoy it, but neither did I love it. Listening to "Shameika" on its own is a whole different experience: it sounds unique, while on the tracklist it is just like another song. The changes of speed, her trembling voice and the sudden piano arrangements construct an organized mess in which every element is in a designated place. The surface is captivating, but I wish I could hear more than just that. [7]

Leah Isobel: Fiona constructs a rattling, screaming subway car of a song around a single moment of warm clarity. It's a little better as a meme than it is as a hook, but it works regardless. [8]

Ramzi Awn: The world might be ready for Fiona Apple to don her best Frank Zappa. Still, Apple's goofy composition falls short of exuberant. Her commitment to the off-kilter is welcome, but it is unclear what emotions the single aims to inspire. At times, it brings to mind Liz Phair's latter-day stabs at eccentricity. Music has no responsibility to be beautiful, but at its best, it connects the human dots of experience. I'm not sure what Fiona Apple has been experiencing, and I don't know if she is either. [3]

Jackie Powell: After the first drum roll, chaos ensues on "Shameika." Chaos and jitters are synonymous with a middle school experience, a time when young women become hormonal and just so damn difficult to deal with. I imagine Apple skipping and walking to school to only be thrust into the social hierarchy. It's degrading. I was also the kid "not chosen." Apple knows her audience and she portrays a moment in time that's felt deeply by only half of the characters involved. People enter our lives, impart simple yet profound wisdom, and then they disappear. The memories, depending on their delivery and timing, can stick like an epoxy. Apple accepts Shameika's rejection or indifference to friendship with the repeated line: "She got through to me and I'll never see her again." But when you are young, that idea of never seeing someone again sounds pessimistic. Both Apple and I refused to accept that reality in the moment. The last 20 seconds of the track, the bluesy bassline, and the saw-like distorted crackling illustrate how that one-sided moment felt inside. So thankful, but confused and empty. Does potential come with emptiness? When I first heard her album Fetch the Bolt Cutters, I immediately envisioned it as easily adaptable into a one-woman show on or off Broadway (whenever live performance comes back). "Shameika" is a monologue sung. [8]

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#Fiona Apple #pop #music #music review

[thesinglesjukebox]

ELLIE GOULDING - RIVER

[3.88]

It's Canaday, starting with a musician who's not Canadian; however, Ellie Goulding's been a liar, been a thief...

Katie Gill: Honestly, the theories as to how this cover hit #1 in the first place are a lot more interesting than the version itself. It's a bog standard cover of a beautiful song that we've had way too many bog standard covers of already. Goulding is bringing absolutely nothing new to the table here, playing this song straighter than a ruler. As such, a middle of the road song gets a middle of the road score. [5]

Michael Hong: Joni Mitchell's classic was always one of the best breakup songs, and with a line like "I made my baby say goodbye," you could feel that self-blame and regret in her voice. It made the former line where she stretches the word "fly" with such intense longing hurt all the more. Ben Platt's version for last year's The Politician was a solemn showcase of grief, empowered by his powerful voice that trembled with regret. Goulding's voice is far too airy to back the grounded context of the lyrics and it's a shame that a line like "I made my baby say goodbye" is delivered with a sad little whimper. Coupled with the way the track is being released, Ellie Goulding has managed to dim the emotional release of "River." [4]

Brad Shoup: It's easy not to fuck up "River": follow the tracks of Mitchell's blades. And so Goulding does, from the piano that I instinctually let tap on my tear ducts onward. Understandably, she enjoys the thought of flying most. But she can't -- few could -- nail the mixture of regret and fascination Mitchell brings to "I made my baby cry". So yes, a decent routine, but one more faithful to the text than the author. Corinne Bailey Rae and Herbie Hancock executed a better one -- over a decade ago now -- that fully apprehended its creator's jazz leanings. I suppose I should be grateful Goulding didn't attempt the same. [5]

Katherine St Asaph: The coalescing take around Ellie Goulding's cover of Joni Mitchell's "River," is the take I hate most, i.e. that it's just another example of conspiratorial prolefeed served by THE BIG BAD ALGORITHMS, specifically the result of moms who don't want to troubleshoot every speaker in every room of the house asking Amazon's Alexa to play Christmas music, for which this technically qualifies. The culprit here is not "algorithms," probably, but payola -- "River" is an Amazon exclusive, which means Amazon has incentive to hustle it past all its recommender algorithms clamoring for "All I Want For Christmas Is You." Indeed, as payola goes, some tranquil, contemplative Joni Mitchell, even in cover form, is an inspired, even counterintuitive song choice. (And if The Algorithms were truly evil, in their vast data collection they will have learned by now there are better songs to play to troll people with.) What's really interesting, to me at least, is that Ellie Goulding was just on an Andrea Bocelli single sounding studiedly similar to Sarah Brightman, and now she's on a Joni Mitchell cover sounding studiedly -- well, not similar, but closer to her than to Ellie Goulding. Given that a year ago Goulding was giving interviews about how her voice didn't sound like anyone else, where now it sounds rather the opposite, what's the strategy here? An attempt to distinguish herself from the hundreds of Halseys and Bebes who share her vocal style? An exit strategy into adult contemporary (and out of having to record singles with Juice WRLD)? Upcoming pivot to West End (uh, whoops, happened already)? Upset, hopefully not still, she wasn't in Cats? Planning to fake everyone out on the UK Masked Singer? [5]

Scott Mildenhall: Streaming has arguably compelled national charts to better reflect what people are actually listening to, so is it a failure or a victory that a number one single has arisen via gerrymandered inadvertent and passive consumption? It's hard to say if that's more or less legitimate than a 911 CD2 with three free postcards, or a label messenger boy being sent to buy all copies of a 7" from one of the few shops used to measure sales, but it does come with greater possibilities. In a few updates time Alexa will be writing, recording and releasing her own material and playing that to the unsuspecting, at which point the entire top 40 will be full of her, metaphysically straddling all conceivable and as yet inconceivable genres with songs that not only target, but also sample the unwitting utterances of individual users. That, or maybe just note-for-note covers of tasteful classics, who knows. [5]

Iain Mew: I'm pretty sure I was algorithmically treated to "River" over Christmas, and even pleased to have something that wasn't the usual turn up. It was definitely well ahead of the time a few years ago when my parents bought a Christmas compilation of knock-off soundalikes without noticing, and specifically the unique horror visited upon "Fairytale of New York" therein. Listening to "River" now in January it tries hard not to do anything interesting, but can't help but sound more stark than plain, which is something. [5]

Jacob Sujin Kuppermann: If you're going to use your terrifying tech near-monopoly to force a hit, at least make it less boring than this. [1]

Alex Clifton: If you keep the captions on the YouTube video, it begins with "(emotional piano music)", a fine example of subtitle editorializing before the song even starts. It's a bland moment for Ellie, whose normally delicate and distinctive voice falls into generic indie girl territory. At least it's better than this "River." [3]

Alfred Soto: I swear, I published this list of solid Joni Mitchell covers before I endured Ellie Goulding's literalist approach to Blue's most guaranteed tear wringer. Less anxious than Beth Orton's, more okay than Corinne Bailey Rae and Herbie Hancock's. Yet consider: Goulding's matter-of-fact reading teases out Frozen II's queer subtexts. [6]

Nortey Dowuona: Heavy, slipping piano chords are trying to pin down the hem of Ellie's thin, soothing voice, but it slips through and Ellie sees the flowing river, both a little relieved and a little disappointed, settling herself on the riverbanks and thinking about the passed years since "Lights" and wondering how she wound up here, waiting for the river to freeze in the wintertime. Then, Joni Mitchell flies over the river on her way to deliver some presents to kids in Ukraine in a hurry and freezes the river 45 feet deep, with Ellie happily beginning to skate, her future forgotten. [7]

Joshua Minsoo Kim: Joni Mitchell's music is striking for many reasons, but one that never fails to impress is how every bit of instrumentation fleshes out ideas presented in her prose. To take a less obvious example from Blue, "A Case of You" is a song suffused with wistfulness and lingering romance, and the guitar chords--swaying rhythmically but nevertheless sturdy--take on the woozy feel she sings of in the lyrics. "River" isn't as understated: it's bookended by the sound of "Jingle Bells" to indicate the longing and sadness she experiences in the middle of enforced, unavoidable holiday cheer. Her desire for a river she "could skate away on" finds motion in arpeggios, but they inevitably find their way back to that variation on "Jingle Bells," signaling her unresolved feelings; the extended outro carries with it something solemn. Goulding's take on this is serviceable, but she doesn't magnify or play on anything that makes the song brilliant and moody and affecting. Its existence is no less meaningful than if you were to sing the song yourself and record it (in fact, doing so would be more personal, more meaningful). Still, the mistakes are glaring: Goulding truncates the ending, stunting the song's emotional heft; her singing is comprised of large gestures, failing to subtly evocate; and there's a sense that in wanting to remain faithful to Mitchell, she's failed to make this song her own. [0]

Thomas Inskeep: I wish Goulding had done something, anything to change up this cover of the Joni Mitchell standard, but she didn't -- she plays it completely straight. So what's the point, if I can listen to the original? A great cover reinvents a song, turns it inside out, finds something new. This does none of that. [3]

Ian Mathers: The backing sounds close enough to the original, so the proposition here is, what? Let's take one of the greatest songs of all time, and instead of having it sung by Joni Mitchell, a legitimate national treasure here in Canada, an absolutely seismic figure in the history of modern popular music and, it should be added, one of the finest vocal performers in the field and replace her with... Ellie Goulding? If anything, you feel bad for her absolutely adequate performance and I'm sure sincere love for the song. But the original didn't somehow fall into a black hole, so why does this exist? [2]

Kylo Nocom: Those runs are rather dry. I witnessed a brilliant rendition of "River" in a talent show tribute last month, so no excuses for a cover so tiring, so lacking in Joni's fragility. A shame Ellie won't even benefit from some Christmas cheer now that it's January. [3]

Will Adams: Charitably, a "faithful" cover; uncharitably, a cover so occupied with replicating the original it's rendered pointless. Perennial cover songs like "Fast Car" or "Hallelujah" or this don't need to be 180'd every time; something simple like the soft rock arrangement Sarah McLachlan gave it works fine. Goulding's version does little more than quantize the vocals and add harsh amounts of treble. [4]

Joshua Copperman: "Ellie, you haven't really changed," I said, "It's just that now you're unrecognizable; sing something else instead." [4]

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#Ellie Goulding #Joni Mitchell #cover #pop #music #music review