Daily Mael 1988

Another Les Rita Mitsouko collaboration. Very clean pop. Ron playing the mini piano in the video is, as is to be expected, very disturbing.

A collaboration with French pop group, Les Rita Mitsouko. Innocuous bouncy tune with nothing much to recommend it.

Brilliant. Stand out track on Interior Design by a country mile. The return of wit and wonder. The synth strings on it do a fabulous job as all the other clutter is pared back. The deadpan way he tells the story of hooking up with a superstar is masterful and the chorus is just the epitome of simple meodic beauty. Perfect sign off too: ‘I never told anyone about this cos after all, it’s none of their business what she or I did.’

The melody is king here. And at least there’s some interesting turn of phrase and phrasing. Regret is in the air mixed with disillusion and disenchantment. It’s not pretty. A sorry saga of what might have been and the fading of glory days. ‘Coming attractions washed up on the beach.’

Aaargh – those drums again. And soulless synth again. I’m going to scream. Sorry, but I can’t stand this. It’s a real chore to get all the way through. Never has a song title been so apt.

The high inflection at the end of some lines is a sweet touch and it’s a brilliant tune, but it suffers from the same malaise as The Toughest Girl In Town, in that you’re constantly waiting for the music to get off its arse and do something instead of fannying about being all 80s unsubtle special effects. I want to be gripped and driven along, not gently petted. Where’s the fire?

Like the initial deep riff and you can’t fault the fab melody but it really should take off after the second chorus with a regular 4/4 beat or something instead of the beat going all artsy fartsy off kilter. So frustrating to listen to. Missed opportunity I feel.

The various ‘Love-O-Rama’ refrains doing a lot of the work here to keep you interested, but overall it’s too synth heavy and those in yor face 80s drums haven’t aged well. It’s bearable, though, and the prize for best line goes to: ‘Don’t go pulling a Polanski.’

It’s alright, but a tad bland. I like the parp parp parp bit at the end of each repetition of the title and… that’s about it. Fairly self-explanatory story wise except for ‘Brown bodies just a little too wide prance around.’ OK.

This is a great wee song. Who would have thought stalking could be this much fun? Not creepy at all. Except it is. But you’re hooked by the phrasing and the way its all structured. The ‘I could be fifty, I could be sixty…’ bit reminds me of PIL’s ‘I could be right, I could be wrong.’ But that’s just me. Scary laugh at the end.

Ticking all the smooth New Romantic boxes – all strings, synths, xylophones and breathy backing vocals. Outdoing ABC and Spandau Ballet, including the gloopy lyrics. Are they serious? ‘Laughing friends won’t buy it.’

The return of the guitar. Soft rock Sparks. Washes over me. Kind of like The Cars and a million other groups. This is not a good thing. I want to like it, but, oh, there’s Ron playing guitar in the video suggesting he’s taking the piss out of guitar heroes. Ha!














1967 – 1969