Perfume - "Spice"

It figures the day I'm finished typing up my Year End List, Japan's Perfume swoops in with their latest single, "Spice," and lifts me to pop heaven. Two days later and I've probably listened to this song 300 times. Seriously. It's why here at W.O.W. love the plasticity and sheer future-forward sonics of Britney Spears, Tove Styrke,HyunA and to a lesser extent, even Ke$ha and Rihanna. Perfume have been at the J-Pop game for a spell, but JPN, their first album in four years, has simply come out of nowhere and raised the bar in the pop park. Autotuned, maximal, brimming with 8-bit bleeps and candy-coated arpeggios -- this is something you need to hear in surround, in widescreen, everything ping-ponging around the room. Being stuck in a pachinko machine. I think I've used that analogy before, but it's most fitting here. Maybe it's the cold war between with K-Pop that has raised Perfume to this entirely new level?

 

Jhene Aiko and the Sailing Soul(s) Crush

Jhene Aiko? So I dismissed any urge to download Aiko’s summer mixtape simply based on the cover (something you learn not to do in school, right?). I thought she looked like a second-class Beyonce or Rhianna, treading R&B waters, just trying to make a name via hipster R&B mixtapes. Can’t fault a girl from trying, especially in a dog-eat-dog world full of producers trying to meddle with various ingénues/wannabe-divas for the end result – just one hit. I must be blind to certain trends at this point, as I can’t identify (besides Drake’s “Marvin’s Room”) where Aiko is lamping over others’ creations/beats. I was introduced with “Snapped,” seen in the amazing Ah-Ha/Akira inspired vid below, which by all accounts is a Jhene Aiko exclusive.

As I was spewing out the virtues of Britney Spears’ recent Columbus show (review/or sort of review forthcoming), a good friend of mine asked how I decide on which parts of the plastic pop universe I choose to adore (since there’s so much). He wasn’t questioning my love for this ilk of sophisto-mainstream pop (he understands the general nostalgia), but just why I chose Britney over another. Or Beyonce over Rhianna (which I do). Or for that matter why Jewel’s “Intuition” is much superior to any other contemporary artist, in her predicament, who attempted to tap into that Top 40 realm down that alley. And for all those questions, I didn’t have an answer. It’s not a guilty pleasure, as there’s no such thing. Femme Fatale, Britney Spears latest masterpiece (yes, masterpiece) is not a guilty listen. It’s one I genuinely enjoy on many levels for its future-forward approach to pop and how it posits the star. Anyone who thinks Britney Spears continues upon a downward slope is definitely not listening to the music. It’s not her creation, fer sure, but the money and ingenuity attached to her persona is enough. I wish these behind-the-scenes wizards took more chances. Then, of course, a legitimate artist (?) like Jhene Aiko, or Sky Ferreira, or Nicki Minaj, would be in the running for this stable of production ohhhs and ahhhs. Instead, I suppose they all fight the good fight, against the Britney’s and the Beyonce’s of in their horizon. I’m sure some of them will prevail. I haven’t yet even tipped the iceberg of Tove Styrke (jeez, just wait). There is assurance, that much like her counter – let’s plug in the wonderful Cassie right now, Jhene Aiko has a bright, but predictably, unpredictable future ahead of her.

It was early morning, this week, playing this loud, that I was assured of Aiko's power.Go Here for the Mixtape.

"Open Your Heart" Just Because

I always wanted to be the kid in this video. A Top Ten '80s pulse. Peter Rafelson, who wrote this, also wrote the previously mentioned Jane Wiedlin hit, "Rush Hour." So it all makes sense.

This is just because....the time is right.....entering the holiday corridor.

Zola Jesus >> Closer to the Pop Charts?

I'm trying my best to not turn into one of those dime-a-dozen empeethree blogs, that basically recycle every press release they get throughout the day into what they consider a newsbit. It's just an empeethree kids, posting it will get you hits, but not street cred. That said, I got very excited when I saw that Zola Jesus has yet another incredible release on the way -- Stridulum II, the follow up the Stridulum from earlier in the year. If you've read here or over at the Agit-Reader for the last few years, we've been in love from first bite. Nika has come a long way from that initial 7" from Die Stasi and this new track proves it. When I interviewed her last year, I asked her about being a pop artist eventually -- she has never ruled that out. Maybe the Dark Lord's Madonna? Well -- this re-recording of "Sea Talk" from the Tsar Bomba EP is the closest thing to "Live to Tell" I've heard since Madonna did it. The song has always been there, the vocals, the melody, but it just needed some black-light histrionics and inside-out neon to shine it into a late-night club classic. The Evolution will not be Televised.

Zola Jesus - "Sea Talk (Stridulum II Version)"

Poolside with Menudo

Yes. With Menudo. I know what you're saying. It's not possible that anything by this Puerto Rican franchise worth salvaging and for the most part you would be right (I took the trip down their YouTube rabbit hole to investigate/get proof). But for one measly single, over the course of their decade-long, switcheroo, plastic pop, (Latin) world-dominance, they broke through to America. I think it was Nick Rocks and not MTV that played "Hold Me" incessantly. It's puerile and sickly sweet, but there's something about the synths and ugh-beats coalescing that does it for me. Plus they went towards the English language for this track (and Ricky Martin makes an appearance in this configuration), even when they didn't need the English speaking world to fly in their personal jet. I don't really remember this Poolside -- it wasn't even a radio success, just a blip, a joke, an anecdote that most of us Northerners could care less about, but whoever wrote this song knew the definition of pop hit.

Poolside with Sky Ferreira's "One"

Constantly documenting the emerging teen pop stars of today frequently reminds me of Wooderson’s timeless quote from Dazed and Confused – “I get older, they stay the same age.” Not that Sky Ferreira’s 17-year-old perspective scares me for the future of our youth, quite the contrary. When a single as ebullient and catchy as “One” finally dominates and wins one for team, I actually feel some hope for the next generation as I wither away, secretly obsessing over a pop song so laced in ephemeral euphoria, I’m amazed when it stays in the playlist past June. But it is June. The official beginning of W.O.W.’s Endless Summer and it’s high time I give y’all a perfect mix to soundtrack your barbecues and late-night reefer cruises through city streets.

Judging how many times I’ve listened to “One” since discovering it 48 hours ago, there’s really no better way to start the Poolside Class of 2010. The past few months I was hoping English tart, Ellie Goulding, would have raided American shores by now, but to no avail. I even suggested to her in November (if she was reading), that she should be aping Kate Bush if she wants to get ahead on the trends likely to make the rounds for pop singers of her ilk in this young decade. Can’t understand why she hasn’t caught on? Maybe the accent, the movement, the stateliness, is a bit to sharp for teens in the States?

Sky, on the other hand, has hooked up with a producer here (Bloodshy and Avant) who seem to know exactly what they’re doing with the artist – even injecting the first twenty seconds of “One” with what sounds exactly like the twilight of Bush’s “Running Up That Hill.” Of course, American audiences couldn’t get with the esoteric kings-und-queens lace in Bush’s songwriting, so “One” quickly moves to a hyphy-electro track which takes cues from both Cut Copy and any number of chillwave aesthetes who don’t possibly have this range of equipment to produce themselves saliency in the mainstream. Big budget pop stars will prevail, as long as they do it right. This song has everything built in for Sky – the faux-DJ-glitchy repetition in her verses, the rapidly ascending neon synths, and the skittered beat rubik’s-cubing beneath it all. Then there’s the image. They already got her covering Stevie Nicks, looking heroin-chic yet plastered as if a Lisa Frank Trapper Keeper exploded on her face. She’s got the style of a ‘70s air-conditioned, crystal-worshipping, expensive-coke-snorting diva and the innocence of watermelon-flavored Hubba Bubba.

Kids, this is POP at its absolute apex. We've come a long way from Debbie Gibson. Ke$ha be warned, your days are numbered.

Initial Musings on Xtina's Bionic

I’ve never made a point of caring all that much about the career arc of Christina Aguilera – she’s really been nothing more than radio fodder. I will admit to liking her voice opposed to many of her peers (Allmusic calls her the “Rolling Stones to Britney’s Beatles” – brilliant) over the years though her frequent shifts in style have been suspect. Remember the desperate attempt at getting “Dirrtty.” It’s always seemed like an uphill battle for her, even if she’s sold millions of records and is considerably more diva-esque than the bubblegum crop from which she was harvested. I am a frequenter of the pop charts, still to this day, and all I can assess from Christina’s latest “comeback” album, Bionic, is that she’s taking some risky, albeit safe in my sphere of influence, maneuvers to wriggle and croon her way back into a top spot.

So what’s so risky/safe? I can’t admit to ever listening to an Xtina album from front to back, but have enjoyed a number of her singles, but now can, as I was intrigued about every puzzle piece that (finally) made Bionic a reality. She enlisted every hot producer and world-class female ingénue on board to give her globe-trotting, future-disco cred – name ‘em, she got ‘em – M.I.A., Santigold, Switch, Tricky, Polow da Don, Sia, Ladytron. Then there’s the really strange addition of Le Tigre on “I Hate Boys” and the completely softball combination of a raging voice like hers and a Linda Perry penned ballad, as “Lift Me Up” is assured to be a gigantic hit. In fact, after giving Bionic a few spins already today, I’m loving the sultry, soul, numbers here – check “Sex for Breakfast,” my instant favorite – more than Xtina’s stabs at becoming current, a leader of the pack. She’s not capable of that. Whether she knows it or not, M.I.A. is giving her leftovers in “Elastic Love” and whatever contribution was concocted by Kathleen Hanna is barely noticeable. I will give her an A for effort though. Songs like “Glam” and “Woohoo” are filled with expletives, sexually suggestive rhetoric, and excellent beats (remixes please?), something, when done correctly, I can’t get enough of no matter who’s singing. Then again, Aguilera, who’s barely 30 years old, sounds completely out of touch for most of this ride. She’s a mommy, not a rebel. She’s not changing the face of anything.

Poolside with Bryan Adams

I know what you're saying. What does a pasty Canadian "rebel" know about chilling by the Troy Municipal, in nothing more than OP swimshorts? No running. There has always been something humbling about Bryan Adams -- is there really anything you dislike pre-Prince of Theives? -- "Run to You" ? "Cuts Like a Knife" ? Even "Summer of '69" had a Boss/Petty-lite that appealed to those of us 7 year olds who were into the most sugary of pop music. "This Time," the third single from the Cuts Like a Knife album, must've debuted in late August of 1983, right before school started up, right as the Endless Summer was finding a twilight. Nostalgia plays cruel tricks. Thinking I'll rock this from a cassette copy, on the Troy Levee, 'round dusk, in late August, 2010. I vow to make this a summer full of poolside.

Bosa Mora - Idol Hopeful/Columbus Native

Just as news surfaced that Simon would be leaving American Idol I began severing all ties with my eight year love affair with this ubiquitous display of pop culture. Yes. I'm a fan. Yes. I sometimes weep when those with heartbreaking stories conquer and head to Hollywood, but I'm already thinking General Larry Platt's "Pants on the Ground was the climax of this season. I'm sick of the audition shows and just waiting for Hell Week when we'll get to see if Columbus native, Bosa Mora, will get any farther. The cards are kind of stacked against him -- he is slightly boring, with no flash or superstar traits -- but researching his career in music it's safe to assume he may have an in once the judges see his skill on the piano and guitar. He's an original composer, rare for the average contestants, so hopefully he can wow them with his own songs. Maybe so, maybe not. I liken his voice to that of the late Teddy Pendergrass -- he'll need to up the smooth operator motif is he wants to survive.



UPDATE: Bosa did not make through the first round of Hollywood week, but assures his fans, via the Columbus Dispatch, that you will eventually see his name in music one way or another.

Bloggin' on Ke$ha is Required

Like it or not, Ke$ha is ubiquitous in the world of pop these days. It’s like it happened instantaneously. Fast forward two weeks and your mother will be all “I really enjoy that “Tik Tok” song, but what’s with the line about brushing her teeth with a bottle of Jack?” Well mom, that’s how teenage pop divas cum fragmented electro-hip-hop cyborgs talk on the radio now. Their sexual exploits and hard drinking is commonplace among the water cooler fodder of grade school kids and office workers alike. Extremes of this can be seen as innocently as Miley dry-humping the pole on an ice cream push-cart on the Teen Choice Awards to the Millionaires blatant party antics. If I called it out-of-hand I could also start to call myself old. I actually don’t object to this sort of behavior – women’s rights and all that, but if I had a daughter I might be distraught about the images my kids were seeing day in and day out. In contrast Ke$ha isn’t all that bad, just a bit dirty, a bit of a drunk, a bit reliant on the love of a boy, a bit of a bad speller. Now she’s got a number on hit in “Tik Tok” and a number one album in Animal. But to be fair, I prefer her to the Fergies, Katie Perrys and Lady Gagas of the pop universe, there’s much more pop and innovation in the songs of Animal than one would suspect – that’s likely the work of Dr. Luke and Max Martin, Scandinavian songwriting forces who could resurrect the career of Jordy if that challenge were given to them. As a result, with the prescience that songs like “Your Love is My Drug” and “Kiss and Tell” project, I predict Ke$ha will be around the charts for a while. And words like slut, dick, and Jagermeister will become a staple of pop vernacular. Just you wait. Everyone’s talking ‘bout her, but few will admit there’s some gold in the grit.



But then there’s the case of poor Uffie. I was listening to the Justice/Ed Banger affiliated chanteuse’s body of work this weekend (which amounts to about one good EP of songs) and was floored to realize she’s been kicking around for over five years. There are highlights for sure, but it looks like she’s missed the boat to stardom, ‘specially since Ke$ha has pretty much swiped Uffie’s penchant for raps that don’t rhyme (Paul Barman-syndrome) and bratty euphemisms that make little sense but sound cute under auto-tune (M.I.A./Missy) rolled into a somewhat suburban Caucasian blockhead flow that sounds remotely street-influenced – it’s effective, but it’s Uffie who perfected it first, there’s really no mistaking that. Check out the video below. While I’m digging on Ke$ha these days, I’m still holding out hope that Ms. Uff can regain the throne she never got the chance to sit in. Stay tuned.

Dear Eillie Goulding , Please Be Kate Bush

Someone in my Facebook universe stated that yesterday was a "Kate Bush kind of day." And though I couldn't quite put my finger on what made that quote correct, it was. A nice, semi-gray afternoon, that would be perfect for "running up that hill," splitting time between primal screams and earth-bound coos, circumventing English castles and graveyards. My usual indie-rock Nostradamus said a few years ago that the future would be made up of imitators of Beat Happening and Kate Bush -- I think by now I was half-right. While here, I've always been a champion of the globe-hopping, genre-toppling urbanized neon of artists in Diplo's stable (see former posts), I'm also a big supporter of the more Euro-centric, dance-club, electro-divas that have been sprouting up at a surprisingly fast clip (La Roux, Little Boots, Annie). Though many of those artist's singles were solid gold, full-length albums by them have had diminishing returns. Perhaps because they aren't sticking close enough to the Kate Bush mold. None of them seem as wildly eclectic as the woman who wrote a song called "Wuthering Heights" and turned it into a smash.

Ellie Goulding, probably best known these days (at least in the states) for remixing a Passion Pit (sic!) song -- this new singles, "Under the Sheets" is the perfect combination of that weird streak adopted from Bush and the blinking neon circuit sophistication want from those electro-pixies. Dig deeper and you'll see that Ellie is quite an accomplished musician, not just a cuddly prop in front of a phalanx of synthesizers. The first thing I had heard from her was mostly acoustic, her delicate voice the only thing fluctuating throughout. It's worth it to seek out "Guns and Horses" and "Starry Eyed." Amazing songs. High Hopes. Pop Park. Giving Lykke Li a formidable opponent.

Allison Iraheta - "Friday I'll Be Over You"

I've never been secretive about my obsession with American Idol. Though I think the quality of the performers and the choice of material has waned in recent years -- I always have a favorite that I was sad to see leave. Given the circumstances of this year and the Adam Lambert/Kris Allen culture war showdown, I've almost tuned out enough to give up completely. Especially with no Abdul hysterics next season. The only hope I had this past year was that Allison Iraheta -- the 16 yr. old phenom -- would prevail through all the male dominated shenanigans. She may not have had the vocal chops of Mr. Glambert, but she had her own style. I thought that was enough to make her the dark horse.

Finally we are about to see the results of Ms. Iraheta's burgeoning recording career. Currently her first single,"Friday I'll Be Over You" has yet to set fire to the charts, but I'm in love with how they've projected her to the airwaves. While I'm a bit weary of the Pink makeover her handlers are giving her, I love the pseudo-Runaways vibe and the eerie Metroid music box ludes that frame the chorus. A bit more Avril than I wished for, but I'm predicting a long career. At least as long as Kelly Clarkson, and long(er) than her season 8 peers.

Poolside with Washed Out

This might be the last Poolside for a long while. At least until I get the itch in March. This is actually more than Poolside, it's a chance to announce what I think is the single of the year -- Washed Out's hypnotic "Feel it All Around." That's hypnotic, no hypnagogic (and who knows what the fuck that entails). I've likely listened to this at least once a day since it was released. Goodness. It's inspiring, melodic, soothing, contemplative, nostalgic -- everything I want in a Poolside jam. This is a fan made video. Though I've never had the experience of scuba, and I didn't get close to a beach the entire summer, this is beautifully fitting.

FEEL IT ALL AROUND from Northern Lights on Vimeo.

Here Come the Twelves

Again. The anomaly of Brazilian MTV. Actual play videos (seems not even VH1 Classics is doing that anymore, seems like the metal block has been left in the VHS for months, haven't seen "Run to the Hills" in a while). What intrigued me most though, were the in-lay commercials, at least three per break. Here it was like a local (the alt-Brazilian contingent) happy hour for all the up-n-comers and those that supported them (the Tom Ze spots were obviously the best). But second best were the short clips by the Twelves. For simple minds, they are currently the Daft Punk (or at least Justice) of Rio, stripped of glowing pyramids and chrome costumes, but ultra-catchy disco-funk-rock all the same. You might not know them, but that's quite understood, unless you are hip to the Valerie crew from France they might not have made it to N. America. They've started with remixes of the ultra-hipster playlist, and moved into roller-skate glides, fitting their own synth-sketches into seamless mix work-outs. But here on MTV (no Brasil) they're seen working 8-bit terrain (placed incognito) in barber shops, beach walks, and the pandaria (bread stores) armed with Casio T-80s and sweat-suits. Charming little wonders, each of them, though I never got to see a Twelves video (did see the Mallu). N. American distribution? Vinyl LP?

Here's the latest mix I could find. Like Steely Dan doing Diplo.

In Defense of Animal Collective (and Myself)

Just yesterday I was gushing on about Merriweather Post Pavilion, the latest triumph from Animal Collective. Not sure why I'm feeling the need to defend my opinions, but opinions about the band (especially since the leak of this album) usually fall into categories of extreme opposites. You're either on or your off. Of course, I've been on for a long while and was well aware (back on the Strawberry Jam '07 tour) that they were soon headed for a breakthrough. This album is it, love it or hate it -- it's truly hard to ignore. I think my unashamed dalliance with Animal Collective is rooted in the malleable psychedelics they mine. In theory they are not unlike Faust, Beefheart, Boredoms, and (wait for it) Psychedelic Horseshit - in that these bands spread myraid tentacles out beyond the normal constructs of song and melody. One is free to follow whichever one they choose, a new adventure with every listen, the ability to pad and fill the holes with imaginary noise or sate the nerves by focusing in on one particular path. Merriweather Post Pavilion ebbs and flows in a similar fashion, but continuously (with the exception of maybe "Bluish" and "No More Running") crests in day-glo and tribal rhythms. It's not a dance record, it's not electro, it's not mongoloid-funk or hep-folk -- this band has wild aspirations to create fresh, pop wonders, and if that comes clad as the "event of the year" only days old or causes the latest/greatest blog-splosion since the birth of the internet, so be it. I enjoy every minute of it.

As a side note...I'm equally in love with Hipster Runoff's theory that Animal Collective is a band "created by/for/on the internet" and how the internet has forced us all to love them. Much of this is true, but who's counting. I enjoy every minute of it.

Here Comes Mallu Magalhaes

Delayed reaction. There are always a few days of unwinding needed after nightmare air travel, which I experienced two-fold (don't ask). And there's a ton to get organized, still, before I lay out complete survey of all that I dug up in Brazil (and this trip was a dream come true). So for now, my latest little obsession, Mallu Magalhaes, the newest indie-pop sensation to flood the MTV airwaves (and home-grown to boot). Truth be told, the South American MTV airwaves are actually fun to watch. During NYE alone I spied a triple play of the Fall's "Victoria," a self-produced Tom Ze spot, and Sepultura's "Dead Embryonic Cells," so the programming is grab-bag, but top notch.

For now, all I know about Mallu is this -- she's 16, dating the 30-yr-old from Los Hermanos, stars in some mobile phone commercial that plays ad nausea, and has yet to release her infectiously twee album here in the states. When she does, it won't be hard to compare her to other nymphs with a distinctive voice and oddball arrangements -- see Lykke Li, Bjork, Soko, Marit Larsen, Kate Nash (also huge in Brazil now), etc. More investigation to come. For now, here's the video for "Tchubaruba"

And....Heaven 17

I went to see Duran Duran. Yes. I know. But they were kind of awesome. I've been meaning for some time to go see ABC but was always afraid of what might have happened to them. But what they did was loungey romantic sophisto pop, so it probably hasn't gotten worse with age. Then I started thinking about Heaven 17, and how good "Let Me Go" is in addition to their whole body of work. So I forgot completely about both those bands and have been focusing intently on this song. Brilliant.

The Curious Case of Nick Heyward

Strange that in the curious case of Nick Heyward, I've discovered his gift in reverse. If you rewind to 1993 and the release of the single "Kite," you'd find some pretty geeky specimens doing white crosses, bong hits, and playing that in tandem with In Utero at the Vandalia house. Hard to believe that, in an era when we couldn't get enough of Nirvana and Smashing Pumpkins, this proper waif from London town could write a little sappy number like "Kite" and win us over unwillingly. This might have actually been our most played single that year. It is these days. Purely Beatles-esque, but a reminder that in England, grunge was only a distraction to pop melody.

Past the millenium I became obsessed with '80s music again, the sounds of a second-grade boombox and John Hughes films no doubt. I discovered Pelican West, by Heyward's claim to fame, Haricut 100. If you go back you'll love it, even beyond "Love Plus On." (Seriously, go back and listen). A shame a band like Vampire Weekend get compared to them, because this album is kind of brilliant and disposable all at once. VW should be grateful.

And now, the album above has logged a lot of time on the turntable upon finding it. North of a Miracle was released as Heyward's first solo album, at the same time that Pelican West was climbing up the charts. Heyward left the band before that record was even released, opting for adulthood early. North of a Miracle is a fairly hushed affair, full of lush arrangements and almost jazzy smoothness, but never lacking in pop sensibility, fans of Prefab Sprout should attend. "Whistle Down the Wind" will have you wishing for 120 Minutes again, or at least that episode of Top of the Pops.

Meanwhile....here's "Kite".....

Reflections on Britney's Circus

“There’s only two types of people in this world/Those that entertain and those that observe” and Britney Spears is a “put-on-a-show kind of girl.” That might be the only proverb Brit has learned in a decade long career. Still as vapid as a career that has become, whatever handlers handle her and producers that produce her, don’t allow her music to become as prosaic as she contends her life is these days (yeah I sat through For the Record). So Circus is the comeback? And unfortunately, last year’s Blackout, the pre-fab pop album of 2007 by default, suffered in popularity maybe because the world was more interested in Britney’s descent into the maelstrom of her personal hurricane. Circus is certainly not as stacked as Blackout, beginning with the insta-single “Womanizer” which is a veritable dentist drill of catch-phrase and quickly following that up with the title track, the “theme” or artist’s “intent” herein – “Hey, my life is a circus and I’m the ringleader” – it’s filed with dancefloor filler, but as a document of her coming clean, her Motley Crue confessional, it’s pretty infectious and hard to put down.

Those handlers haven’t abandoned the fact that Britney mouthing “baby” in an nth number of variations is paramount to her success (from “Baby One More Time” to a song about her kids here, “My Baby”), the key is what wraps around those coos. Of course having Timbaland’s protégée Danja will create some disposable sexxxy-back Timberlake-counter (“Kill the Lights”) and the indispensible Swede Max Martin waves Top 40 with his fingertips on the ode to (sic?) Amy Winehouse, “If U Seek Amy,” but the real treat comes with her tell-all chutzpah and the tracks that accent it with unlikely sources.

“Unusual You” would suggest that Brit has been listening to the Knife and Roisin Murphy (she probably thought this template was “hella cool” before the recording), it’s a mid-tempo disco ballad drenched in neon strings and micro-house beats. Likewise, “Blur” and “Amnesia” are absolutely stunning, kind of beating Christina Aguilera to the punch of pop queens finally succumbing to Talk Talk and Portishead backdrops. Throughout she drops little lines like “smoking up outside” or “doing him for seven years” then talking about forgetting her address or “f’ing” till dawn (yeah, no fucks yet). Overall she appears to be clear-minded about her chaos six months ago.

Maybe rehab does wonders, maybe the music she had dropped in her lap made her realize she’s got enough money to blind the public with the cream of the pop-candy crop, when her younger peers (It’s Miley) pull in the lucrative Wal-Mart booty now? Circus is certainly not a perfect record (Blackout was eerily close), but at least it’s current, tasteful, and unforgiving.

Futurecop or If I Could Live in John Hughes....

...Nu Shooz for a day, playing Mega Man (that might actually postscript this music), hanging out with Parker Lewis (that might postscript it too). ahem. Regardless, I spent a large chunk of my youth lusting to be in the same Saturday School as Molly Ringwald and Ally Sheedy. I often fantasized as an 10-yr.-old that Troy High School would be like that fictional Illinois high school as I threw shows in the dark during "Idiotic" with Justin Smith, and the bros, in the Wrestling room (padded from floor to ceiling). We would raid the poor saps who left their lockers unlocked on a Sunday afternoon while the dads played basketball in the best gym in the city.

Futurecop (best myspace ever) is probably one popular guy in England who can conjure these memories for anyone who gets goosebumps during particular scenes in the Karate Kid or even Superfuzz. He pays homage not to the Huey Lewis' and Wang Chungs' of the era, but the techy geeks who scored the films like Transformers: The Movie and Critters and War Games. The background music, the oddball ephemera playing on a boombox or a Wallman or a 3-inch color TV in the kitchen. My wife knows the rap from Revenge of the Nerds: II. I know too much about Jan Hammer and theme-song wizards like Max Tepper Sr.

At first I thought this was most definitely Gil Mantera without the party dream, as I'd like to attribute this whole blantant revival of our first digital pop playground to that duo. This isn't so much 8-bit, chiptune, but full-fledged fleshing out of 80's plasticity and gaudiness, toned for Spring Break and buffed for Prom.

I would post a track, but he's asked to hold off till the official release of his first EP. Till then, I urge a trip to the myspaces.