Song of the day – 464: Kate Nash
Some folk may contend she’s been hanging out with the wrong people recently. Not from where I’m sitting.
The test here is simple. Would I like this if I had no idea of who the person behind it is?
The test here is false. That’s not possible for me to imagine. It’s more Babes In Toyland – minus the guitar – than Bikini Kill, anyway. And it’s more spewing, mouthy, antagonised by unfairness, late 70s punk than either. (Yes, Honey Bane. I am looking at you.) More dislikes than likes on YouTube, huh? You just know how I feel about that. Need a copy of the lyric sheet. Written and recorded and filmed in under 24 hours, apparently. Shave 20 hours off that, and we start to approach Everett True heartland territory, not that length of spontaneity is a marker of anything beyond impatience and a possible unwillingness to see the job through. I don’t know about Kate not being herself here. I don’t think Kate is necessarily being her old self here. This is bad? People don’t like change, especially not from those they think can’t – or shouldn’t – change. This isn’t necessarily a great pop song, but it’s a provocative one, an irritant, one that makes you think: and that’s always a plus. Next time she tours, I’d like to see her put together a supporting cast of Muscles Of Joy, Tunabunny and Sky Needle. And The Thin Kids, of course. Oh… and Kate? If you haven’t listened to Patrik Fitzgerald yet, you really should.
Better a has-been then a never-was.
DISCLAIMER: I have been known to like Kate Nash’s music before now.
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