These words are my words: Or, A defence of (some) pop music.

Let's get one clear. One irrefutable fact set in the most immovable granite: Most pop music today sucks. Most pop music is meticulously designed and marketed toward specific gender, age, and racial demographics. As it goes through this marketing makeover, it loses sight of what music is supposed to provide in the first place: An uncharted ride, a rollercoaster into the unknown- fun, pop is supposed to be fun. When a good pop records flirts across the airwaves, you are supposed to lose control of your body, hips switching from left to right, arms akimbo, like so many evangelicals on American Christian Network broadcasts.

But most of the time, this doesn't happen. Instead, you Usher's new album- flat, uninspired, everything-sounds-the-same horseshit. His last album, 8701, was great- what happened? Lil Jon and the crunk wave, that's what. Instead of doing what wanted, Usher saw gold in Lil Jon's hills, and now I have to suffer because of his greed. When I tell you Chingy makes me lose my mind, rest assured, I don't mean it in a good way. Ditto Anastasia- She's one who got breast cancer, so why do I feel like I'm the one suffering? I could go on and on and on and on...

...and on and on. Except I said I'd defend pop. So here goes. Two words. Natasha Bedingfield. "But Mark", I hear you exclaim, "Isn't she the younger sister of Daniel Bedingfield? And isn't Daniel one of the most infuriating non-personality's in music today? And doesn't the man have all the class and sophistication of a smelly gym sock hanging on a shower rail?" Yes, that's true. However, one musn't judge a sibling based on the merits of the other though. Nat has it goin'on. I mean, she namechecks Byron and Shelley, for Christs sake! Which is refreshing, in an era when most pop tarts can't namecheck anything but Gucci, Prada, etc,.. Her song 'These Words' has enough great hooks to snag Jaws, and her singing, well... She almost allows the words to tumble from her tongue, in a disarming, beautiful way. It's in and out the door in under four minutes and leaves you with a smile on your face. And who can ask for more than that?

Justin Timberlake, Pharell, Kanye West, Beyonce. Okay, these people aren't Kofi Annan, but they're sure as shit not Kissinger. Not saving the world, but not destroying it either. My favourite band in the world (by some margin) is still Radiohead. I like music that stimulates me, be it mental (Hail to thief) or just butt wiggling (Franz Ferdinand); Big Pimpin' (The Blueprint) or big message (Talib Kweli's 'Quality'). But all this stuff isn't JUST made for shifting units- it's made because the artists involved got that feeling, because in the studio, they lost control of their minds, or their bodies, or both. Something pre-fab Pop/American/Australian Idol will never understand.

Records I'm listening to this week:
THE OPEN- the silent hours (2004)
THE WIRE COMPLEX - a work of fiction (2004)
McALMONT & BUTLER - the sound of... (1995)
THE KILLERS - hot fuss (2004)