Say what you will about Kimbra (and I’m sure you will), but this is good. Very good. As good as pop ever reasonably gets.
Kudos to Scott Creney for his intriguing review over at Collapse Board – though I’m still not sure to what extent he’s taking the piss. Not so much over-egging the pudding as slapping a cherry on top of an omelette. Even so, he got me wanting to hear the song.
It’s like Cat Power if she had someone who loved her. It’s like Adele if she knew how to dance. It’s like the Rolling Stones if they were still alive. Where can anyone go from here except sideways?
With that hyperbole to wade through, I was shocked – SHOCKED! – by how much I enjoyed the Kiwi chanteuse’s single. I’m going to admit something slightly embarrassing now: I actually quite like that Gotye single she sang on. (Emphasis on “quite” here, let’s not go overboard. I quite like it in exactly the same way as I quite like the occasional song by Sting or Peter Gabriel, because it sounds exactly the f***ing same as something by Sting or Peter Gabriel.) I’m coming in from a position of not-hate. Even so, I was unprepared for this.
What is this?
It’s a neon pink song. A bright bubblegum fizz of verve and sparkle. It’s bold, and quite literally brassy. It’s fun, exciting, and doesn’t have the slightest intention of sending you to sleep. In other words, it’s the polar opposite of the Gotye songs that aren’t Somebody That I Used To Know.
This is what pop music ought to sound like. It has the plunking strings and rich denseness of old Motown but the delicious basslines of those modern pop songs that mistake hooks for actual melody. It keeps scampering off in different directions. It’s got the drums from Be My Baby. It’s breathless enthusiasm and giddy first crushes and unfettered joy without the slightest hint of cynicism. I’m entirely in agreement with the Youtube commenter: this is how The Matrix should have ended.