Welcome all to ๐๐ผ๐ป๐ป๐ผ๐น๐น๐โ๐ ๐๐ผ๐ฟ๐ป๐ฒ๐ฟ, a series of weekly reviews by Charles Connolly – an artist in his own right. Here, Charles delves into the greatest brand new singles brought to you by the best unsigned artists on our electrifying and eclectic set of ๐๐๐ฌ ๐ผ๐ง๐ฉ๐๐จ๐ฉ ๐๐ฅ๐ค๐ฉ๐ก๐๐๐๐ฉ playlists.
๐๐ค๐ค๐ ๐๐ก๐-๐๐๐จ๐๐๐ค๐ฃ๐๐ ๐๐ค๐ซ๐ (๐๐๐๐ฉ. ๐๐ฌ๐๐ฃ ๐พ๐ง๐๐จ๐จ๐ฌ๐๐ก๐ก) – ๐๐๐ก๐ก๐ฎ ๐พ๐ง๐๐จ๐จ๐ฌ๐๐ก๐ก
Charles is syncopatedโฆ
Nearly a third of 2026 has passed already, can you believe that? And isn’t it calming to finally have the entire world at peace? With everyone able to get on with everyone else? Where we can each live our life and have our own quiet thoughts and views without being opinionated or aggressive? Such relief. Oh… sorry… Either I was thinking about a different year entirely, or that was simply a dream. Or perhaps I was burying my head in the sand, oblivious to the smouldering embers permanently surrounding us all. We are certainly not at peace yet. Lord, no. I might go so far as to say, this is the most peaceless time of my life; and I’m sure my parents’ life too. There is raging fury in the upper echelons of power, so I’m told. And we are told a lot. Far more than we used to be. Which could be a major part of the problem. It’s not that there has been peace since WWII, it’s just that the peaceless parts of the world were simply not really on our radar. They “didn’t concern us”. And the Press did not go heavy on it like they do now; this used to be considered World News – for those who wished to broaden their outlook. These days we are told things like “The top man at the British Navy says we are not even close to being ready for war”. Excellent. Not only does that make me feel safe and cosy, but it’s also good to know that this info was not spread across the entire world for other nations to take note. Oh… sorry… Wrong again. It makes me feel as though my own front door is wide open, with my address posted online, complete with a list of things worth nabbing. It’s a short list, but if you happen to like hats, plants and cushionsโฆ
Another thing we are commonly told, is what to think, and how to think it. Not so much subtle swaying or suggestion, as backhanded brainwashing. As if this constant carnage is somehow to do with us… We had no say in any of this. We simply watch while wincing. Which is something weโve always done. But there have always been our own private thoughts on it all. These days, it seems we are to think the way they want us to think. Nay: to FEEL the way they want us to feel. They used to want to sedate us; to hide it all from us, so that we canโt have an opinion. They seem to have now realised that our feelings CAN be an asset to them. If millions or even billions of people are cajoled into thinking a certain way, then the horror somehow has โgood reasonโ to continue.
If you can resist it all, you might be fine. But you will need a great deal of willpower in order to get back to how you used to be; how you used to feel. I think most of us want our nice little life back. You know: friends and family, saving up for a holiday in summer, what youโre going to be eating tomorrow evening, justifying the cost of those new shoes when the soles havenโt quite fallen off your current onesโฆ THESE are the things that used to be what life was all about. Sure, we were AWARE of what was going on in distant lands (and even quite nearby, but involving people you have never known), but it didnโt rule us. We didnโt all used to be opinionated fighters. It seems that politics is almost all that people talk about now. And itโs the one thing that we really genuinely CANโT do anything about. Yes, yes, I know, โbut if we all band together, we can make a differenceโโฆ Mm. It rarely works, letโs face it. And it only tends to anger even more people. So what do we do? We focus. We focus on our own little life. Do you remember love? Private love? No, not THAT kind of private love. I mean the kind of love that involves you and your partner, and no one else. No, I said NOT that kind of love – filthy minds, the lot of you. I canโt be the only one who is one half of a ridiculously silly coupleโฆ We are extremely silly. We laugh, we play, we say nonsensical gibberish that only WE understand. We make facial expressions that would make Charlie Chaplin envious. We dance when thereโs no music playing, we point out how beautiful the sky is right now, only to embrace once again. We stand on each otherโs toes for no apparent reason. I simply refuse to believe that we are the only ones like this. Because THIS (at least to me), is what love is. One, born for the other. Itโs a good old-fashioned love.
And so we move to music. Those who skipped that first chunk donโt quite get what this is all about. These articles are not just music reviews. Music reviews are quite dull. Think of this more as a shared connection with the music or the artist at hand. Iโm sure HAL (A.I.) could give me a brief rundown of what a song is about, or how the song is produced, but I feel that what we are missing in this modern world is the human element. The part that ISNโT factual or โnecessaryโ. When I meet up with someone I know well, I of course want to know what theyโve been up to, and I wish for them to be as healthy as possible, but the reason I am meeting that person is to have a lovely time; to enjoy their company. And Iโm sure thatโs THEIR reason too! You donโt go home afterwards thinking โWell, that was quantifiably strategic and thus informatively nutritiousโ, do you! Sorry to interrupt – a reader has something to say: โWhat happened to โmoving to musicโโฆ?โ – Quite right! Youโre quite right; itโs about time. Last week we had a woman and a woman, so I thought Iโd mix things up a bit by reviewing a woman. Sexist pig, my FOOT! Please welcome Kelly Cresswell with her latest single, โGood Old-Fashioned Loveโ! Lyrically, the song basically outlines everything I have stated above – minus the toe-standing. The piece has no hidden meaning or metaphor of any kind, so you shouldnโt have any problems getting to grips with it. Although I do love the odd metaphor, I find that it can be a bit flowery and meaningless if not handled well. Ya know, when artists say โIt means whatever you want it to meanโโฆ Cop-out answer. When listeners asked me about the meaning behind my song โParakeetโ, my reply was โMeaningโฆ? Itโs a song about parakeetsโ. I donโt exactly go heavy on metaphor.
So, thatโs the lyrics. Musically, we go all the way back to the 90s, early, mid and late. There was a massively successful genre that Iโm not quite sure what to call. It blended acid jazz with pop, funk and soul. Although probably designed for the ears of the 30-somethings, I was 10 or 15 years old, and I loved it (but not as much as Supergrass). I can only describe the music by mentioning acts who dabbled in – or lived by – this sound. The Brand New Heavies, Morcheeba, Incognito, the James Taylor Quartet, early Jamiroquai, M People, Simply Red, the Lighthouse Family, the lighter side of Seal, and the lighter side of George Michael. I think most of you will know at least a handful of these names, and so will be able to get some sort of gauge or grasp on what weโre talking about here. Itโs easy, slick pop, written and played by professionals capable of far more than pop. But most importantly, it is designed to put a smile on your face. And that, it does. I gather that Kelly Cresswell was going for this kind of thang, and by Jove, she certainly managed! She is from a little English town called Widnes, which is in between Liverpool and Manchester. Meaning, she is sandwiched between The Beatles and Oasisโฆ Having been in the community – admittedly modestly – for over two years, this is her first time in my Corner. Many of her releases have been hastily scribbled into my โmaybe listโ, but never quite made it to the โfront pageโ – until now.
Although โGood Old-Fashioned Loveโ is penned by Kelly herself, this venture is not quite a solo project. Few should be. Within a matter of seconds Iโm sure you will realise (and gawp at) the high production standards of the piece – basically, as soon as the drums fade in fast. And THEN you will notice the incredibly funky bassline. It is all such pro-level! The production and mixing is achieved by a chap called David Gorst – the man evidently knows his stuff. The bassline, however, is played by none other than Kellyโs son, Owen! How bloody lovely is THAT?? But the thing is, this isnโt one of those โLet the kid have a goโ moments. Heโs damned good. I also have no idea if Owen is 28 or 12, but frankly I donโt really care. The point is, heโs brilliant. The bass is one of the key elements of the whole piece. Strip it of bass and it all falls apart. Even making the bassline less funky and less syncopated would flatten the energy and make the whole thing a little stale. But this isnโt to say it is ALL about the bass, HELL no! Thereโs so much here. The bright tambourine rides the groove throughout like a sexy metronome thatโs just found God. Then thereโs the Fender Rhodes laying the solid foundations every two bars, like a trusted, experienced father.
But before we get into pre-chorus time, this song ainโt an instrumentalโฆ Oh, KELLY! Such clarity and purity, yet such experienced seduction. The depth of her first line is impressive, but then she just LIFTS! Her precision with feeling is rare. Itโs usually one or the other: precision lacking emotion, or feeling in a tempo all of their own. Knowing nearly nothing about Kelly, I actually wonder if she is/was a session singer. She just HAS that thang. As does her son. This voiceโฆ It knows when to slink into the vibe, when to get peppy with the syncopation of it all, and when to let rip. Like in my favourite part of the entire song: the way she sings the word โprocessโ just before the first chorus. Ahh. Perfick. The chorus greets us with euphoric happiness; the kind of smile you envision when you think โgospelโ. But that chorus also brings us a whole horn section! Itโs tight, itโs balanced, itโs just enough excitement to make sure you dance without bashing your knee into the corner of the coffee table. Meanwhile, that bass constantly keeps my facial expressions busy: Ooh, Ah, Uhh!! Then what happens after the second chorusโฆ? Of course, the usual thing: a talkbox solo. Wha-??! Yep, an instrument that converts any vocals into a synth via a length of hose (one end in the mouth, clamped by the chompers) – probably the most unhygienic instrument ever invented, but ya know: we artists suffer for our art. Splendid! The trumpets get a little more busy in the final chorus, just for a final rousing round of โSpill Your Drink Like Thereโs No Tomorrowโ! And fade.
One final thing on the lyrics: she doesnโt want the kids to be โdragged into this messโ – I agree. Children and the young should be allowed to simply enjoy being young – youth doesnโt come up again later on in life.
There is so much more I could say about this song, but as always, itโs probably best if you just open up your ears and enjoy it for yourself.
I hope you all found this informatively nutritious, and not fun in the slightest. A toast to nonsensical gibberish! Careful, I might stand on your toesโฆ
Listen to ๐๐ค๐ค๐ ๐๐ก๐-๐๐๐จ๐๐๐ค๐ฃ๐๐ ๐๐ค๐ซ๐ on the ๐๐ผ๐ป๐ป๐ผ๐น๐น๐โ๐ ๐๐ผ๐ฟ๐ป๐ฒ๐ฟ Spotify playlist HERE!
Listen to ๐๐ค๐ค๐ ๐๐ก๐-๐๐๐จ๐๐๐ค๐ฃ๐๐ ๐๐ค๐ซ๐ on the ๐๐ผ๐ป๐ป๐ผ๐น๐น๐โ๐ ๐๐ผ๐ฟ๐ป๐ฒ๐ฟ Apple Music playlist HERE!
Listen to ๐๐ค๐ค๐ ๐๐ก๐-๐๐๐จ๐๐๐ค๐ฃ๐๐ ๐๐ค๐ซ๐ on YouTube HERE!
Follow ๐๐๐ก๐ก๐ฎ ๐พ๐ง๐๐จ๐จ๐ฌ๐๐ก๐ก on Instagram HERE!
Follow ๐๐๐ก๐ก๐ฎ ๐พ๐ง๐๐จ๐จ๐ฌ๐๐ก๐ก on TwiX HERE!
Please share this post and let me know your thoughts in the comments below
Leave a Reply to Javier Molina Cancel reply