17th May 1999


Single of the Week

"Driftwood" by Travis

Everyone's favourite underdogs return, yapping round the heels of more successful peers with this timeless reminder of how eloquently liquid and emotionally resonant a rock ballad can sound when given to the right people. Fran Healy, possessor of one of the most sensual set of vocal chords in music today, wraps his tonsils around this achingly precious and heartrendingly molten track, instantaneously taking in such worthy influences such as the Beach Boys, REM and the likes of Nirvana's softer moments. There's a marvellously seismic hearbeat of a bass running through this also, which more or less makes it perfect.

A plaintive crawl through the Phil Spector classic "Be My Baby" is the first b-side; a great big smouldering beehive hairdo of a cover version that flits between torpor and seductive warmth in equal measures. Then comes "Where Is The Love", another great Big Ballad, complete with Roger Whitaker style whistling bit.

Travis may never make it big, but few bands are capable of making songs this massive.

Rating: 10/10

The Rest

"Remote Control/3 MCs & 1 DJ" by Beastie Boys

By contrast, the Beasties could release a recording of them repeatedly farting in a barrel and folk would clamber over each other to buy it. That said, their skill with a mic and a daft punk rhyme is pretty much second to none, as this double-a of tracks from the recent LP proves. "Remote Control" is the lads beating each other over the head with a big metal guitar riff and as such is as much fun as watching Ice Cube kick the crap out of Bon Jovi. "3 MCs and 1 DJ" is about as old skool as you can get, doing exactly what it says on the tin with the Beasties rapping over a scratching backbeat. Its like has not been heard since 1986.

Third track is "Putting Shame In Your Game (Prunes Remix)", a beep and booster sci-fi cruise around the neighbourhood, with Ad Rock and co at the controls which also ounds spookily like Cypress Hill.

The biggest proof that the Beasties are kool is the fact that no-one kicks up a fuss that they're white: compare and contrast with Eminem...

Rating: 8/10

"Kiss Me" by Sixpence None The Richer

Crap name. That out the way, "Kiss Me" is not all that bad, drifting gently around the kitten-petting, pony-riding locale that the likes of The Sundays lit up so prettily back in the great indie wars of 1987. However, all the lyrical references to "milky twilights" and "silver moons sparkling" are so saccharine that all your teeth spontaneously fall out in protest, and the inescapable suspicion that right now this is playing during at least 16 separate dinner parties makes the bile rise.

"Sad But True" is slightly less fluffy, a distorted guitar chasing away the bunny wabbits, but all this succeeds in doing is making it sound like The Cranberries. A live version of "Kiss Me" props up the rear, revealing that - unbelievably - the band do not hail from the cottage gardens of middle England, but are instead American. Which is akin to finding out Kurt Cobain was head boy at Eton.

Rating: 5/10

"I Quit" by Hepburn

I wish.

Desperate in the search for the next great Girl Group, Sony have blindly signed this hellish mascara-caked mixture of US AOR blandness, Natalie Imbroolywooly angst and girly-wirly vocals. Which is all I can be bothered saying about it.

"Sleeping Beauty" trawls new depths of disinterest, whilst "Butterfly" is every bit as bad as its name would suggest ("she's a pretty thing, a butterfly on a pin").

Please quit.

Rating: 1/10

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