Thursday, March 11th, 2010

Staygold ft. Spank Rock & Damien Adore – Backseat

Oh, those Swedes…


Martin Skidmore: I know nothing about this lot, but it’s kind of amateurish electronica with most of the vocals somewhere on the spectrum between weak singing and flowless rapping. I can’t think of any ’80s records that sound like this, but there could have been.

Doug Robertson: I’m going out on a limb here, but I’m pretty sure that they have more than a passing acquaintance with the collected works of Prince. If he was dead I’d say that they’re channelling his spirit, but as he’s not then they’ve clearly captured and killed him, just so they can channel his spirit. Oh, and mount his stuffed corpse in a glass display case in the centre of the hallway. Still, despite having all the subtlety of a Justin Bieber fan on twitter, this is pretty good, so let’s just pretend that it’s nowhere near as blatant as it actually is.

Hillary Brown: I wouldn’t go so far as to call this an unsuccessful exercise in nostalgia. It succeeds at what it sets out to do — the question is whether that was worth doing to begin with, and I think reasonable people could disagree. I’d rather Spank Rock’s full raunchiness were unleashed. I’d rather it didn’t sound like I was listening to this on my plastic Fisher Price record player. I’d rather it were more committed to pleasure than to a Prince spin-off pastiche. But it’s still not entirely hateable.

Pete Baran: With the exception of the thoroughly superfluous rap, this is a gorgeously fluffy disco concoction, repetitive enough for a groove, inventive enough to keep you interested. A great break would elevate it beyond the kind of Europop fun that could chart; as is, I think this will be a pleasure for a select group of people.

Martin Kavka: The live version (with the twenty-second cameo from Robyn) only shows the limits of Damien Adore’s falsetto in effecting any response from the listener.

John Seroff: I was talking with a friend recently about why I do Singles Jukebox and what I get out of it and why I listen to these songs over and over and over to engage with material even devotees tend to view as ephemeral when I came up with what felt like an apt metaphor. Let’s say you have a balloon; a bright red, plump, airy balloon. If you take that balloon and hold it to your head, it’ll flutter softly to the ground. But if you take that balloon and rub it against your head, vigorously, over and over, static builds and the balloon will grab your head and hold on for long stretches of time. That, of course, is the magic of good, adhesive pop music: exposure doesn’t make a bad song good (I’ve endured considerable psychic torture in seeing this methodology out), but it allows a listener opportunity to find all the nuances and fast-twitch fiber in a meaty song. Which leads us to “Backseat”, which didn’t initially grab me but is now my favorite new Jukebox single of the new year. It’s Prince-level falsetto filthy and just as funky sharp, a peppermint rolled in curry pepper. Even the generally execrable Spank Rock don’t make much of a dent while passing through. And that instrumental break! It’s on a par with “The Girl and The Robot” to my ears, and just a joy to jump in the parking lot to.

Comments are closed.