Disco Sticks, Muffin' Bluffin' and Playboy Mouths, All in a day for the Gaga - The Fame Review

I thought I could resist. over-styled (but magnificently so), over-hyped (but who isn't in an era of internet buzz?) and overly keen to be seen as unique but of course we know this isn't true. Her initially Gwen Stefani-esque aesthetic tarted up with some Bowie-style lightening bolts and 1970/80s-themed homemade couture and grandiose stage name initially led me to believe that she would be more unorthodox in her musical style. Imagine my surprise then to find backing dancers, synchronised routines, sexy skin flashing and radio-friendly poppy hooks. Sure it was exquisitely polished with a fabulously-styled exterior, but she's no subversive musical oddity. Of course, she shouldn't have to be, but I can't help but feel that her image demands she be seen as such.

And so I tried to resist, determined not to get sucked in by the hype machine, but Just Dance, her debut, chart-blazing single, is a force to be reckoned with. Its simple but relentless hook, grimy keyboards and funky electro beat make in an irresistible feel-good, night out delight. Her follow up, Poker Face most definitely follows the same blueprint but with a more outright Britney-style pop chorus in contrast with the stomping, strutting card-game innuendo-laced verses. There's also a cheeky attempt at rapping that feels dangerously close to Fergie ('I'm bluffin' with my muffin') but she just about gets away with it.

The rest of the album never quite reaches the same furiously addictive heights. In terms of up-tempo, high energy dance tunes there's the synthy LoveGame with its strong beat but crude lyrics and lazy rhymes, there's also this nagging feeling that it sounds like a reject from Gwen Stefani's Sweet Escape album. More successful are Beautiful Dirty Rich; a smoky, decadent, slinking beat-driven semi-rapped mid-tempo delivered with relish; and Money Honey, a bassy, attitude-packed slice of funk in a similar vein to Just Dance. Elsewhere title-track, The Fame (which has a touch of Faster Kill Pussycat about its intro), is a catchy marriage of guitar and electronica-lite while Boys Boys Boys and Somerboy are flirty eighties electro confections with a frothy choruses.

There are also more honest moments when the retro cool shades come off and the Gaga moniker is dropped for a glimpse behind the glamour, most notably Again, Again. It's a departure from the usual preening electro-pop with rawer, rockier tale of frustration set a forceful piano riff with punchy drums and guitar. However, both this track and Brown Eyes do feel a little at odds with the rest of the style over substance synth-based stomp that's on offer here, despite providing some welcome depth (though the difference isn't much more than the depth of a pothole when compared to, say, a puddle). A decidedly more mawkish attempt at sentimentality is Eh, Eh which could literally be released by any teeny bopper popstrel. It's a soft, plinking love song that's bland and radio-friendly to a level of pandering. A more successful take on a softer side is Paparazzi, a mid-tempo love song set to a 'paps seek celebs' metaphor with the bombast and drama of the confident, spiky verses melting pleasingly into a syrupy chorus.

Lyrically GaGa's got one track mind with one theme of fame, riches and glamour being loosely touched upon throughout and the results are generally as vapid as one would expect but rarely intrusive. There's nothing profound, earth-shattering or even clever to be found amongst the funky beats and dirty electro snarl. GaGa's vocals, meanwhile, convey attitude, flirtation, sweetness and a little angst whenever is appropriate without ever really being challenged. And so, in the end, The Fame is worth a listen for a rather strong selection of catchy, danceable electro pop tunes with a veneer so glossy you could check your hair in it but it just don't expect it to deliver upon the promise of its avante garde exterior. Because, when all is said and done, GaGa is just your average wannabe pop princess with delusions of grandeur that she can't quite live up to. Having said that, there's no denying that this girl can pen a memorable hook and grab your attention on the dance floor, just don't expect anything here to truly resonate with you once you've hung up your discostick for the night.

EDIT: So it turns out I've reviewed the Original Edition as apposed to the UK&Ireland Edition which includes all the above mentioned tracks as well as three new additions. First off there's the rather forgettable and utterly generic Starstruck which opens with the Gagster spewing yet more nonsense in her robotic drawl and proceeding to spout gibberish throughout. It features a passably catchy chorus (GaGa giveth) as well a tiresome rap cameo (GaGa taketh away). This is followed by the half-baked Paper Gangsta with its mind-numbing chorus that seems to retract her previous statements regarding her desire for all things fabulous (it also claims that she doesn't want some flash faker, erm, pot, kettle, black?) and finally there's the I Like it Rough which is nothing more than yet another serviceable synth-laden electro jam (anyone hoping for a sudden daliance with acid jazz, new age or bluegrass will be disappointed). Give it a rest woman and leave things as they are instead of bloating what was a consistently strong tracklisting with more of the same only weaker. If too much of a good thing is possible then too much of the same basic things rejiggered 15 times is certainly possible, this is one for hardcore GaGa-ites only.

When Comic Relief-related over-exposure beckons, you sit up and finally review their album: The Saturdays - Chasing Lights Review

The Saturdays have proven that they can colour code Topshop's finest clobber like no one's business but can they make an worthwhile pop album to justify the title of the Next Girls Aloud? Erm, no but they can serve up a collection of slickly produced (if slightly dated), serviceable electro-pop tunes with some r'n'b edge. There's occasional spurts of balladry and a handful of mid-tempo numbers but, all told, this is a fairly brief, by-the-numbers affair.

Keep Her, for all its synth-laden drum and bass aspirations, is nothing more than a 'been there, done than' Girl Power break-up lament. The funky Work boasts a catchy chorus and along with the superb Up (which is far and away the best track on offer here) is a standout up-tempo. Both are confident, strutting and successfully hooky. Set Me Off is no slouch either with its big chorus, electro beats and plinks and some menacing guitar strings. On the slowie front there's the vocally accomplished and infectious Issues which, despite sounding more than just a tad generic, wins points for not be a dour, joyless full-on ballad like, oh, say, the clunky, piano-led Fall. Elsewhere the jaunty Why Me, Why Now and the title track Chasing Lights are pleasing, more acoustic sounding numbers.

Vocally the girls aren't all that distinct as individuals, save for Vanessa's caterwauling and Una's huskier tones, but together they harmonise sweetly. The lyrics offer little of interest, managing to avoid cringe-inducing but always walking the line of trite, dull and a little lazy. Other than that there's not a lot to say really. There's none of the Sugababe's moody edge or creative input and there's none of Girls Aloud's infectious playfulness or varied, clever production. However, it is a cut above the average wannabe girl band output with enough catchy ditties and all important potential to secure their status as ones to watch, if nothing else.

It's Not Alright, It's Exceptional - Well I was never gonna give it a bad review, was I?

Ms. Allen was once a mockney chavette and MySpace Queen in a prom dress, Nikes and sweetly singing razor sharp vulgarities over a peppy ska pop melodies amid some sideward glances about being Keith Allen's daughter. Whatever the tabloids had to say, whatever scandal followed her, whatever negativity may have been thrown her way it didn't matter, Alright, Still was an addictive slice of original, well-produced, witty pop with an acidic tongue and ferocious bite; just what the genre needed. Now she returns to scene after an all-too-lengthy hiatus and now it seems the dubby beats and classic ska samples have gone the way of her mock-gold hoops and frilly dresses. Instead stands a sleek, more media savvy (if not media wary) mature pop princess back at number one again with The Fear. Her last number one, Smile, was a perfect representation of the album it was lifted from, the sweetest of sweet infectious melodies counteracted with cutting lyrics of ex-girlfriend scorned. Just the same The Fear is very much an indication of It's Not Me, It's You, the lyrics are as biting as ever but this time the scope is broadened beyond relationship pratfalls and onto a bang upto date social commentary set to a more ethereal, William Orbit-esque electro musical style.

And this is the blueprint that Lily's sophomore effort follows while shaking things up along the away to achieve a sound that is cohesive throughout but varied enough to feel fresh until the end. In terms of thought-provoking lyrics It's Not Me delivers, 22 is a piano-led commentary on a youth obsessed society disregarding female celebrities once they've hit their supposed sell by date. Everyone's At It's thumping beat and blaring sirens set the scene as Lily questions today's drug culture, pointing out that it extends beyond the grimy street dealers and into the civilised society "grown politicians to young adolescents prescribing themselves anti-depressants,". Some slightly more questionable sources of inspiration include former President (emphasis on the former) G.W Bush in the hilariously direct, chiming nursery rhyme Fuck You which includes a chipmunk-worthy key change. Yes, it may feel a little dated already but it's an anthem and there are plenty of prejudiced bigots and duff politicians in the world that the song can be directed at. Anyone worried that Lily has left behind her trademark tales of relationship woes needn't fret, Not Fair is basically Not Big p.2 only in the form of country and western ho-down and an irresistibly infectious hook. Never Gonna Happen is pure concentrated rejection in the form of a polka (if you can believe it) with a devastatingly blunt middle eight; imagine being dumped by a chorus in a specially penned musical number.

Allen's new electro sound works beautifully throughout, Back to the Start's frenzied, breathless, cluttered chorus contrasts effectively with the haunting verses that apologise to her sister for resenting her set to a stomping beat and bass-laden synth and the aforementioned Everyone's At It feels like The Killers circa Hot Fuss (i.e before Flowers became a pseudo-philosophical fashionista oddball). The sound also translates successfully to quieter moments such as the lush I Could Say and the sweet and sincere love note Who'd Have Known (which has lost some of its raw, intimate charm in translation for demo to copyright-infringement free finished project). A surprise highlight is the airy, simple and charming Chinese an ode to the banal details of everyday life that become so significant when you've been away from them for long enough. There's even an attempt at a more acoustic sound, laden with electric plinks and a pulsating beat of course, with Him, a sometimes slightly cringe-inducing but generally astute and witty 'hymn' regarding what the big man upstairs would be like were he here today. And the album closes with the vintage twang of He Wasn't There, a song that fully accepts and reveres her father in spite of and even due to all his flaws.

It's Not Me, It's You is a stellar follow-up to the brilliant Alright, Still it maintains many of the best qualities that made that debut so special while developing them into a more mature and refined sound. It all just works wonderfully as a body of work, flowing from song to song provoking thought, smiles, perhaps the odd tear and every note of it rings utterly sincere and personal; a rare quality that makes this album a worthy investment. I could say that it sets a new benchmark for modern pop albums but this seems a rather meagre accolade when written in black and white and one that doesn't quite do this humorous, heartfelt, honest and creative triumph justice.