Looking at the name of the artist and then the cover of the single (a close-up of a slightly disaffected but quite clearly beautiful woman, looking sideways indicating an element of personal heartache), I thought this was going to be much worse than it was. I expected a ballad along the lines of Leanne Rimes. The first forty-five seconds are exactly what I feared, but then it veers a little off the blueprint.
What we have instead isn’t much better, but a couple of marks have to be given for not being formulaic. It’s by no means as genre-crossing as it hopes to be – a gentle beat does not make a club classic, especially when combined with some purposely different vocal sections. She sings in several different styles – gentle and breathy to begin with, then more angst-ridden before attempting to go a bit edgy. It finishes part MIA, part Tori Amos, with a big sugary layer of gloss slathered all over the top. Towards the end, she is joined by chanting girlish backing vocals repeat “nice boys, they don’t last” in annoyingly smug way – like a chorus line from 'Annie', but dressed with hooped ear-rings and a bright pink tracksuit.
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Just in case you hadn’t guessed, it’s about how nice blokes don’t win out in the end. And it’s a cliché of a song as well, so the sentiment is very fit for purpose. This isn’t the pop music that changes things – it’s not the next ‘Dirrrty,’ or ‘Hey Now!’ but you can tell it thinks it is.
The first of six remixes backing up this single is as appealing as a night in Walkabout, as the weird bits are dumbed down a little and whatever well-concealed good was in the original are wiped out completely. It’s an improvement on many things churned out in the name of chart stardom, but beyond respect for being a little bit different there is absolutely nothing to admire here.
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