Not you...or you...or you actually...get a life...
Still one of the most-talked-about bands of recent times, (although I did see the album in Woolies for a fiver on the way home last night), Midlands-based The Enemy have decided to release 'This Song Is About You'. I can't imagine why. Wait a sec - it's not what you think - I'm not gonna go all mental and tell you it's mindless crap that you shouldn't waste your time on (well maybe not yet); it's because this release of 'This Song Is About You' is as bizarre as a dinner party round Max Mosley's house.
You want to know why? You do? Here goes: I got sent six versions of 'This Song Is About You'. Six. Count 'em. Okay, so at least they were on the same disc. It's not like someone went totally nuts and sent me six different discs in six separate envelopes using six distinct stamps which meant my postman had to spend six times as long sticking them through my tiny letterbox one by one thereby increasing his chances of getting beaten up by the bastards next door six fold. I mean THANK GOD that didn't happen.
However, it got me to thinking: Does the world really need six versions of any song? And in record time I came back with the answer: No, no, no, no, no, no.
No song, (with the possible exception of Springsteen's 'Thunder Road' - but even then I'm pushing it) needs to be remixed, recorded and generally pissed about with more than twice...AT THE MOST. You need the album version and the live version. That's it. Demo versions, recorded-on-a-four-track-round-my-Gran's-house versions, reggae versions, remix versions - keep 'em all to your-bloody-selves guys. I don't wanna hear 'em. They are pointless.
With regard to 'This Song Is About You' I therefore felt justified in ignoring the 'Cat Burglar Remix' and the 'Superfrank Remix' and all the bloody rest of them (and not just because the titles were stupid) and instead elected to listen to the one that came out of the speakers first. Simple.
That version of 'This Song Is About You' was recorded live at Union Chapel - wherever the arse that is - and it's okay. Not bad, not brilliant; just...well...okay.
The lyrics are the sort of romantic and satirical social commentary that gave Paul Weller enough money to keep him in stupid haircuts for the rest of his life, whilst the acoustic guitar and mournful violin press an unerring wedge of fragrant pathos onto the salted cracker. And it's worth noting that the production is uniformly excellent too.
The Enemy are now confirmed Reading / Leeds players and one of the very few acts that might actually be worth watching. Make friends with them.