I’m sorry gang, but this just won’t do. The next big thing has been served up again hot on the tracks of about 10 other next big things and the emperor’s new clothes have never looked more like a sagging, nude, middle-aged record company bigwig.
Have a listen to the above and see what you think. See if what happened to me happens to you.
Where are you in the song? Just past the intro and a few seconds in? When it started, it was alright, wasn’t it? Sort of like The Strokes doing something in a weird time-signature. The guitar was nicely trebly and erratic – the bassist doing weird things as well, playing a counter-melody rather than thudding out a dirge.
But then the vocals went and kicked in and you realised what was going on. You realised that some fucking record company is trying to flog you a hybrid of the aforementioned Strokes and fucking STING.
I’m not buying it. I’m not illegally downloading it, come to that. This is The Police of the noughties and the horrific vocals combined with the preppy American college garb combines to create a gruesome mixture of curdling influences.
Set your watches for a couple of months’ time when hopefully these great white hopes will have sunk without taste or trace.