Smoke until you're blue in the face...
She's been lauded by the likes of Q, The Times, Uncut and Express (God help us); supported the likes of Martha Wainwright, John Prine and Wilco (Lord have mercy) and featured on the soundtrack of a Gwyneth Paltrow movie (for God's sake) and now Catherine Feeny has had 'Mr Blue' remixed by someone who has worked with Razorlight...fuck...
'Mr Blue' is 3:03 minutes of pointless toss that was written to console a troubled lover. This is ridiculous. Anyone that's been through tough times whilst in a romantic relationship knows that a heinous article such as 'Mr Blue' is not what is required to get things back onto an even keel.
Sure, sometimes a few well chosen words and good advice can hit the spot, but more often than not, all you really need is a truckload of sex, drugs and rock n' roll. I mean, let's be crystal fucking clear about this one: We're British - not American. Yanks may witter on about therapy, working through "issues" and leaning on support groups but that's just not the way the game is played here in Blighty. Far more effective is quietly wallowing in a swamp of despair and desolation, drinking your weekly units in half an hour and eating a lot of kebabs. It's all about breeding I guess...
'Mr Blue' is repetitive to the point of despair; as twee as a Michael Rosen poem recited by a bunny rabbit and as satisfying as a packet of Silk Cut Ultra.
The record company describes the single thus: "A sweet summer breeze of sailing melody and warming brass". I recommend it be revised thus: "A weak bumming sneeze of wailing mediocrity and foaming arse".
N.B. It gets the extra point because the title reminded me of the ELO classic. Fickle? Me? Surely not...