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Pick at the pops: 19 March 2007

Elvis Presley and Ray Quinn

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Our weekly round-up of the weird and wonderful world of pop music...

Pop’s death knell rang out across the nation last week, with Eurovision travesties, Beatle sell-outs and Ray Quinn to the fore. Our first port of call is across the Atlantic, however, where tinpot goths The Horrors were offending the good citizens of Boston, bringing down pop’s gods - literally. Singer Faris Rotter scaled the wall of the venue they were playing to grab a bust of Elvis Presley, proceeding to smash it up on stage. Kids today: no respect.

BONG! The knell rang again as punters in their droves carried X Factor manboy Ray Quinn to the top of the album charts with Doing It My Way (geddit?). The Robbie Williams-doing-Frank Sinatra impersonator must win some sort of award for the least necessary record ever made. As for those punters, well, shame on you.

BONG! Doctor Who’s Captain Jack (John Barrowman to his earthly family) stuck the boot into pop’s bruised and broken torso on Eurovision: Making Your Mind Up. The bewildering choice of panellist spoke rapturously in favour of Scooch’s limp entry, brainwashing the public into choosing it as our representative. We’d be the laughing stock of Europe if Daz Sampson hadn’t already sealed that last year.

BONG! Sir Paul McCartney looks set to be the first person to sign a record deal with voracious coffee conglomerate Starbucks. To be fair, Macca probably needs some extra cash right now, and he is in fact currently without a label, but still – it just doesn’t feel right, does it?

Just when it seems that all hope is lost - that tawdry deals, terrible records and European embarrassment are all we have to look forward to - something comes along to restore one’s faith in pop’s barmy and entertaining potential. Step forward Dame Joss Stone, whose new album directs buyers to her website to read her ”thank you” section - all 7000 words of it. This astonishing masterpiece leaves no woman or man unthanked, a particular highlight being a ringing endorsement of Lauryn Hill’s sanity. About a third of the way through, Joss wonders “what am I jabbering on about?” – we’ve no idea, Joss, but you go, girlfriend. Big love.

Matthew Horton

Picture: Empics