A God-awful Small Affair

They don't hang about do they? Less than a year on from their debut after winning the X Factor in 2011, the show's first female act that has a feasible future in pop music (bye Amelia Lily) whilst displaying a semblance of personality (bye Leona) and remaining likeable (bye Cher) could've played it safe and rehashed a couple of quickfire hits and filled up the rest with dirge like they did on DNA. Here, though, the girls are taking risks and a lot of them pay off - just don't ask me which one is which because I'm sort-of over paying attention to these things unless they pop up on my Tumblr every day (which is my excuse, at least, for knowing all the One Direction boys' names). I may call them Fianzayn, Jesy (I only know her name because of the cruelty of Twitter), Scaryeyes and The Other One, but I can promise you they're all terms of affection. Too few albums open with air raid sirens. Just putting out there. Their title track taps into that whole

I can never make my mind up when it comes to discussing vocally-strained music gods making appearances at quaint old public events like the Queen's jubilee or the Olympics opening ceremony. The majority of viewers seem to fall quite harshly into the "give it up, grandpa!" camp and to be fair there are only so many times one needs to see Hey Jude croaked live. Whilst McCartney is fine to perform the Beatles' standards and parts of the British cultural furniture for whatever calendar milestone pops up, it's easy to see that he puts the most of his efforts into his...er... New solo stuff. This, his sixteenth effort, has a far more collaborative feel though than his last; 2007's Memory's Almost Full rather fell on deaf ears here and didn't last long in either head or heart. Here, though, he's gathered producers as decorated as Mark Ronson, Paul Epworth and Ethan Johns to help hone his legendary craftsmanship into a record that's fresh and int

Two and a half years ago, "who the fuck are Arcade Fire?" was a trending topic on Twitter. A year after, it was Bonnie Bear. The Grammys' viewership and their reactions to certain acts winning certain awards ahead of their teen idols is often amusing, and even moreso given the ubiquity with which Reflektor , their fourth album, has been released. They've now joined the ranks of bands who're virtually guaranteed #1 records upon release, and aside from Coldplay (who've gone sour but started brilliantly) and the Killers (ditto), those bands (Maroon 5, Keane, Kings of Leon) tend to be quite awful. So you'd be forgiven for expecting the band to cater to these new waves of fans with a more watered-down sound but if anything, the band are now drawing criticism for pretentiousness and alienating fans . Reflektor 's tracklengths don't look much more accommodating: a ten minute intro and eleven outro, and most of the rest is over 5. There are some

It is a generally held belief that it has now been over a decade since Eminem made a great album. 2010's Recovery was probably the lowest of the low, and I haven't quite shaken off that Haddaway sample. When I saw the tracklisting for this, his eighth LP, I was a little mortified to see another spot for Rihanna (after that year's excruciating overplaying of Love the Way You Lie ) and then appearances from Nate Ruess (of 2012's most annoying band fun. fame) and Skylar Grey (who I've yet to hear anything memorable from). And his public appearances, interviews and performances on TV this year have, as usual, been a little bit straightfaced and serious when social media calls out for either a sense of humour or a sense of controversy to get a level of excitement about a big name's new release. So I must admit that I wasn't exactly looking forward to TMMLP2 . I suppose that in a music climate that's seeing all sorts of weird directions for rap, I, and

Right. Don't mention One Direction. Ah. Following in the footsteps of the UK's biggest export since colonialism is quite a daunting task. The group of 4 - sort of dramatically shoved together by Louis Walsh in what was definitely not a lust for as much adolescent penis as possible - emerged as the fourth-placed act on 2012's series of the X Factor, overcoming both Rylan Clark AND the unfortunate handicap that one of their members (Louis' late addition) had a name that begins with G. As one would expect, the album - self titled as though to reinforce brand identity - gets all of the singles out of the way before a couple of covers, ballads and piss-puddle-club smashes fight towards pretending they have a whole album in them in the first place. They are, in order, the chest-clutching romantic debut 'Carry You' with its oooooh! s and clapping all-around pop factor, the serious-face acoustic guitar "just telling a story about this girl I like lol&qu

The rate at which the world seemed to "go off" M.I.A. between the years of 2007 and 2010, culminating in the release of her third LP MAYA and something dubiously referred to as trufflegate - essentially the hipster press' dismay at finding that she was successful and quite affluent now - was, as a fan, saddening. Although there are plenty of examples of newfound stars deserving of public backlash (hello, James Arthur) the whole thing seemed to centre around petty preconceptions about Maya Arulpragsam's politics and ethics. I'm just putting this out there, but Arular and Kala weren't political albums. That listeners took them as their sole window on Sri Lanka, or as the musings of a social activist, was a bit baffling when most of us were just jamming as though possessed to Boyz . /\/\ /\ Y /\, though, was the first real sign that maybe there was something awry: she'd adorned an unrelenting, industrial-dubstep affront on the senses, and the end results w

In pop terms, this has been a long time coming - who'd have thought we'd get our hands on a Sky Ferreira LP before an Azealia Banks one*? As early as 2009, Ferreira was one of those names that was excitedly talked about as the next big thing in the same hushed tones as those that were met with Jessie J, Rita Ora and Marina & the Diamonds... but now, looking back on the music video for One is a surreal experience. She clearly looks disinterested, and the song itself is just a few layers above total garbage. It's not difficult to see why she wanted to break away from that. Now, though, she's making headlines for all the wrong reasons in true popstar style. Arrested earlier this year for possession with DIIV frontman and boyfriend Zachary Cole Smith, and putting out LPs with uh, her own naked chest on the cover, you'd be forgiven for thinking this was another touted teen-sensation gone sour. In reality, Ferreira is now comfortable and her musical output has ne

I feel like I've been stuck on repeat this year writing about the surge of UK dance music culminating in 2012's monster hit Feel the Love with Rudimental. 2013 has been tasked with seeing these hitmakers make official introductions with their debut albums, and the first of our two prominent male guest vocalists (the other being Sam Smith) to emerge with an LP is Yorkshireman John Newman. At 23 years of age he's not quite in that bracket of annoying little things touted as a prodigy by the tabloids (see: Jake Bugg) but he's not exactly world-weary yet. One would hope. He's got enough behind him, though, to start off with a bow to his past: This record is a culmination of my life to this point, it's who I am and I wanted to thank everyone who has helped, supported, loved me and been an inspiration to me. [*] Indeed, this sense of debt to those who came before the Newman (I'm sorry, but it was a pun that needed to be made) is clear on its opening

It was a slightly cruel twist of fate that Anna Calvi should release her debut album less than a month before the time that PJ Harvey released Let England Shake , 2011's stand-out record. Both went on to be nominated for the year's Mercury Prize and it was a little like the idea of watching Bjorn Again compete with ABBA at Eurovision. Not to put a dent in either lady's artistic credentials, of course. This time around she doesn't have quite that level of shadow, and managed to chart at #32 - some eight places above that of her debut's attempt. In fact, everything about Anna Calvi seems to reflect the story of an artist finding her voice; Calvi herself didn't take up singing until her mid-twenties, out of what she called a phobia, and is one of those rare musical talents that are making their breakthroughs in their 30s rather than their wide-eyed teens. Would it be terribly ageist to say that explains her lack of soppy, poppy nonsense, and her oodles of stag

Every time I happen to glance upon the Saturdays on my TV they're always on some godawful daytime chat show like Alan Titchmarsh or This Morning . That uniquely British brand of blandness is largely the makeup of these five girls' DNA and now that there're a host of others snapping at their heels (Little Mix, Stooshe) the time may have just come to call it a day. Well. A Saturday. *groans* The group, now more famous for celebrity engagements and giving birth in sporadic cycles than their hits, actually scored their first #1 single this year: 5 years after their debut with If This Is Love made #8. In a career that saw even their Comic Relief charity single (a turgid cover of Depeche Mode) fail to make it to the top, it's come as quite a surprise. Their albums, though, have tended to be consistent bags of hits; Wordshaker in particular was one of those rare pop group albums where 80% of the songs could've been feasible hits ( Ego, Open Up, One Shot, Lose Contr

Rating: 2/10 Up next: The Saturdays

Would it be a little premature to have nostalgia for 2011, otherwise known as the year of the fine debut? James Blake, Yuck, Katy B, Anna Calvi, Washed Out, Cocknbullkid and Jamie Woon were all competing to be the year's most memorable breakthrough (well, let's be honest, half of them weren't but they had good albums at least) but the chamber-pop duo Cults may have just taken the biscuit. Since then, their singles Go Outside and Abducted have been popping up all over the place in adverts, movie trailers and TV soundtracks, and for a brief moment it looked like the pair would enjoy the same crossover success that Foster the People and Ed Sheeran were reeling in that year. It never materialised, and in fact, that was the least of their problems. Their debut may have come across as the chirpy, lovestruck pop of a couple in love but it was to see their romance fade. Speaking about their decision to continue with Pitchfork, Madeline Follin revealed: "I don't t

Ah, the Lady GaGa album cycle. It's rivalled only by the surfacing of a celebrity's nudes in the "what gets the gays riled up" stakes, and is subject to a hideous level of hyperbole, high expectations and Germanotta's own unmistakeable hubris. This time around she's stretched as far as vowing to be the actual first popstar to perform in space (many have claimed they will, but apparently she actually will), has made a typically overstated cameo in Robert Rodriguez's Machete Kills , and gone down the gimmicky app route that Bjork and Jay Z did to varying results (Bjork's was innovative and interesting, Jay's was done for a deal with Samsung, go figure). GaGa herself has clumsily tread between the two: her own app appeared to be free, as she probably intended, but now something's popped up, most likely thanks to the label, with O2 that charges consumers £1 a week to listen to it a week earlier than its release date. This careless slipping be

nope this is all wrong start again Rating: what happened to Sun of a Gun/10 Highlights: n/a Avoid: it all Artwork Watch: How 70s. Up next: Lady GaGa