Tuesday, 28 May 2013

Mick Warwick wrecked his first EP.

From the outset, Mick Warwick introduces his diction as 'drawing inspiration from… Justin Bieber's vocal acrobatics'. Need I say more?

As I clicked 'play', the banal whimpers that came through the speakers choked me into wanting to hammer myself into the floor and doze off at the same time.

I was afraid. As 'Create' came on, my brain instantly re-awakened the post-soviet memories and spun me back into a large, damp room covered in moulding wooden boards and peeling wallpaper with over-40s swaying in monotone endless circular rhythm with either vacant or positively pissed off expressions on their faces. That's a typical 'diskoteka' in 90s Moscow, a place where no-one should be brought back to, dead or alive.

Just as the memory starts to fade and the track begins to reach a level of mediocre, his whining pierces through the music and hacks it into tiny little miserable shreds. Mick's attention-seeking-Enrique-wanna-be-minus-the-tonality voice proclaims his desire to write music that is 'intended for the popular market' - going the way he is, Mick will be just as popular as Paris Hilton's one-hit wonder 'Stars Are Blind' (yes I also had to google it just to make sure that it did actually exist in the space-time continuum). Lost in concern for how he will be depicted by the mainstream public, Mick dumbs himself down and spills the few drops of authenticity he may have ever had.

The absence of vowels from the title of his EP 'WRWCK' must have been an ironic statement for it's lack of personality and emotion. The poor guy is clearly in a confused daze, wasted on a concoction of tacky pop, a splash of electro, topped with rap, rock and a misplaced hint of latino - anyone's head would spin and lead you in a zig-zag motion towards the nearest toilet from that level of mixing. Not to mention his influences combine Bon Jovi, Queen, Drake and Justin? All of those placed in the same room will surely get just as awkward and confused as his (lack of) musical style. 

Monday, 13 May 2013

Wednesday, 8 May 2013

I'm worried about Beyonce, I'm afraid she has dissociative identity disorder.

A philanthropist, a humanitarian, a woman of incredible moral standing and a role model for a good 80% of girls. Her superiority to the rest of us common people often lands her a semblance to the likes of the Queen and even God. She judges us for our many debauched mishaps and instils guilt and admiration of her flawless demeanour. But is Beyonce actually the woman she paints herself to be?

The point at which I became worried of her countenance and general emotional wellbeing was at her recent UK tour. She dusted her ever-growing crown with a few more diamonds and followed Peter Parker's wisdom of 'with great power comes great responsibility' as SuperBeyonce stated: 'I feel that it is my job to empower women' - her super-abilities clearly got caught in spidey-web and never reached the crowd of followers judging by the multitudes of girls wearing next to nothing at the concerts - if leotards and skirts that could easily pass as belts are a motif of empowerment, Joan of Arc made a rookie error taking up all that armour. However, even though she beseeches respect, Beyonce herself personifies men down to a wallet: 'If you ain't getting money then you ain't got nothing for me' - really B? Money isn't everything in a guy, they have souls too.

But the girls aren't to blame, after all she only lets you 'put ya drink up in the air if you look sexy'. Yet after dictating that, once again her alter ego takes over and remarks that “Some women show some nudity in all their pics. But I am known for being prudish” - the doppleganger didn't stay for long and before we know it B cordially appears in GQ wearing nothing but pants and a cropped football shirt to get the inane male readers as excited as Jim Levenstein fingering a pie. But it's ok, because she uses her godly power with words to verbally mask her actions. After all, she's just a woman who wants 'to be respected and remembered for [her] talent in the first place, not for [her] booty.” - surely that means its ok for the rest of us to say one thing and act in contradiction with the forenamed values?

One also must not forget that money is a massive driving force behind her worrying condition, because after all sex sells, right? Who needs morals when you're 'that fly chick, plastic Marc Jacob mini'. Queen B is definitely walking down a maniacal path, she even acknowledged it herself: 'I’m more powerful than my mind can even digest.' Poor B, she must be going mental trying to maintain her supremacy and bitch-fight other half-naked rich 'hustlas' like Rihanna from the throne as well as holding up her ideals of being 'graceful, talented and strong and fearless and brave and someone with humility', it's a hard job.

In fact, I was further alarmed by her mental state after recognising correlations between her and Tom Cruise's self-professed god-like cerebral standing. Whereas one pronounces himself the ruler of scientology and all its followers, the other maintains a "temperature-controlled digital storage facility that contains virtually every photo of her" - I guess when you run out of things to do with your millions it's an easy slide back down into childish fantasies of your own totalitarian, fictional world.

Too concerned about holding on to her idealistic crown, Queen B retreats under a utopian, polished mask when in the public eye. But worry not, her alter ego's little voice bellows from undercover: 'when i get on the stage i'm just purely free' - and freely does the ghetto money-loving chick emerge to slut drop all over that stage floor. 

It seems Beyonce passed DID onto her writers as well:

'I know I got it but don't flaunt it even though brothas want it
Dancin' dirty while I'm flirtin' 'cause he's checkin' up on me'

'Disrespect us no they won't …...
Boy im just playing, come here baby
Hope you still like me, If you hate me'

Yes, even a god-like mind will be boggled trying to be two people at once.

Image sources: http://thatgrapejuice.net/2013/04/rihanna-elijah-blake-head-3-million-beyonce-sales-hit-305-million/

Saturday, 4 May 2013

Back to the future

One of the most overshadowed and forgotten facets of the 80s synth pop era is the stratospheric rise of gaming and the mind-numbingly, brain-piercingly repetitive theme tunes. Luckily a current band, Power Glove recognised the similarity between them and the flourishing turn towards mind-numbingly, brain-piercingly monotone electro/techno/each-song-is-a-cool-new-genre mixes (take the magnificent union of Will.i.am and Justin, futuristically duelling away to see who can fit more copies of their own face into each frame) - so what they did, they thought the hell with it, why not just stick some old school theme tunes together and call it electro metal! Finally! A new sound was born - have to admit I was taken aback by the hypnotising, almost poetic flow of the melody through the zooming galactic nostalgia and hopes for a new space age (which they unfortunately lost out to Will.i.am yet again twitch-dancing his way all the way to mars). The retro buzz paints an image of King Kong facing Godzilla in a robot dance-off amongst dilapidated streets of Tokyo and even the extreme likelihood of being flattened into a concrete pancake doesn't stop me from wanting to join in. However, if being trampled by sic-fi characters is your kind of thing, head to the TooManyGames convention in Phoenixville on the 14th June to hear Power Glove live accompanied by Brentalfloss, Inverse Phase, DJ Cutman (let's hope he's as good at cutting shapes as Edward Scissor Hands), Rainbowdragoneyes, Temp Sound Solutions, Skgb, X-hunters, Keith Apicary, Storm Blooper and DJ McGRANAMAN.