w/e 25th March 2006

Pop is dead! Or so it would seem. Westlife hold the somewhat flickering candle for boybands, more through a desire to limp into old age singing crap cover versions of ballads than to prolong the genre (they ain't no Backstreet Boys), and the girlband contingent consists almost exclusively of the never-tiring Sugababes and a few others. But there's still lots to talk about in the world of popular music, so I thought I'd round some of it up here to enliven your Friday.

Well it's no longer "Chico Time", thank goodness. Not that I'm predictably jumping on the anti-reality TV bandwagon - you would think that Simon Cowell invented auditioning by the way people talk. He didn't, he just invented televising it (or Simon Fuller did, and Cowell nicked it, but I'm sure I'm boring you. Who are all these people called Simon of which I speak?). Just how do people think previous singers, be it Lulu, Diana Ross or even the likes of Streisand and Dion, got big? It was simply through being discovered, and X-Factor or Fame Academy or Soap Superstars On Ice are no different. The only difference is, these days the public decide, which may be why we end up with such bland choices. Witness this weeks Mothers Day battle for the number one album between Andy 'Binman' Abraham and Journey "Sarf".

I had to sigh upon seeing the tracklisting for the Journey Sarf album. "First Time Ever I Saw Your Face"? Really? It kind of sets the tone. Here are a group that could be the next Climie Fisher! Or at least play and write. And what do the bigwigs do, but give them a bunch of old standards to croon. It appears to be what people want, as music is now bought by women in supermarkets more than teenagers, but is it going to lead anywhere? Pop is dead because there are no non-conformists any more. We really need someone unique to come along and shake things up a bit - preferably someone with loud music, bright clothes and good songs. Give the music back to the teenagers!

You've got to love 50 Cent. I've sort of no idea what the appeal is, but every few years a new rapper gets his fifteen minutes of fame and manages to convince the world that everything he produces is like gold. Therefore thirty tracks is always far better than twelve. Rap is fun, but to my mind it's far better when contrasted with music of the chorus-led melodic variety. There was an absolutely rubbish track by Roll Deep last year which basically consisted of the melody line to a well-known eighties hit, over which a bunch of people shouted. Even worse, many rappers of 50 Cent's ilk consider the shouting alone to be valuable musical currency. Sampling and borrowing is an art akin to collage, and many are good at it (Nelly for example). Some expertly combine it with intelligent verses and that's "Stan" by Eminem - a classic to rival any song released that year. This week Fiddy revealed that Eminem has "blocked" (the implication being via respect rather than legal injunction) the release of a new 50 Cent album this summer. It figures - Eminem is a canny old thing, and knows that less is more. Fiddy meanwhile professes to have a "stockpile" of songs building up, which leaves us only to pray for divine intervention akin to whatever caused Black Eyed Peas studio to burn down that time. Fiddy is fun, but we don't need his rarities in the world.

Elsewhere this week, ape-like former Boyzone singer Stephen Gately "wed" his partner of four years (has it been that long? It only seems like yesterday he was with that embarrassingly tall Dutch chap) in a private ceremony. "Wed" do you see. Most of the papers added the inverted commas. I'm not for or against the whole shebang, but it seems pretty pointless to make it 'proper' if the press are still going to talk about it with a sly wink and some inverted commas as if, you know, it's kind of not real after all. Elton couldn't be at the wedding which means he probably had a funeral to go to. Oh, and Morrissey claims the Smiths were offered $5m to reform. Just do it, I say. Ambling on stage and belting out yer hits is hardly reforming anyway. It could be forgotten by the morning, and charity could take the fee. I suppose it must be like being offered a fortune to go back and sleep with your ex-wife again, twenty years after a divorce. Tempting, but whatever the cost it's probably more hassle than it's worth.

That's all for now. If it's a hit, I'll be back soon with more chatter from the underworld of fame and the underbelly of pop. If I flunk out at Number 16 (for that's a flop these days) you'll see my padded-out Greatest Hits in a Cash Converters and nay hear of me again.