Since HDUK began we've been deluged with several promotional pop singles, sent by those record companies who are, in the main, just starting out and know no better. In the spirit of supporting our independent brethren, Home Defence stupidly agreed to write a few words on each of these 7-inch slabs of mediocrity. If you're the type of music lover who enjoys skulking around the vinyl-only import section of your local rock hole then you're lucky we felt community minded enough to warn you about the following wastes of the world's limited resources...
Christ, I'm Horny - Training Bra
The latest batch of manufactured girl-pop urchins turn up uninvited on my record player with this risible ode to twelve-year old toyboys. The lyrics, which describe "hanging around the school gates, tryna get some second year lovin'", smack of false sensationalism, particularly when delivered by five women old enough to be Emma Bunton's eyebrow technican. Meanwhile the musical accompaniment sounds like nothing so much as the signature tune of International Karate on the ZX Spectrum played at twice the normal speed. Nice penny
My What A Tumescence - The Dirty Welshmen
The cover is a photo of Keith Chegwin, poorly-doctored to make it look as if he's humping Louis Theroux, while inside psychedelia-tinged fretwork eschews vocals in favour of the sound a tramp makes over a 24 hour period of living in a skip, condensed into a 3 minute pop song by the false idolatry of modern technology. Needless to say, this is socially and historically enriching but utterly unlistenable.
Svrkqzzs E.P. - Bun
Impenetrable electronica vaguely resembling the sound of Squarepusher performing an abortion on an Indian elephant. Features somewhere between seven and nine samples of 'found sounds' including the artist washing his feet, cleaning the guttering on his house and arguing with a Telesalesperson over the phone. The third track is probably the least likely to disembowel your eardrums, featuring as it does the kind of bleeps and accelerated drum patterns not heard in this country since the New Wave of Tokyo Handbag Techno movement of the mid-nineties. Two thirds of the way into the final piece some bloke starts yelling: "Oi! Leave that alone!" and continues for the remaining three and a half minutes of the track. By then you know exactly how he feels.
Bulletproof Ombudsman - Long-Legged Spanyell
Over-processed nu-metal nonsense which believes itself to be some kind of conduit for the anger of a generation. You can tell this by the way the band have deliberately misspelt the breed of dog they feature in their name. Despite the volume levels and intermittent swearing this struck me as all very polite, particularly the percussionist who drums with all the enthusiasm of a widow ironing a shirt.
I Got Married To The Girl Next Door - The Casanova MC
Garage update of the Henry VIII song in which various members of London collective Tha Kicked Pansy Crew debate what it would take for The Casanova MC (Real name: Humphrey) to, "get married to the girl next door". As gunshots burst the tyres of a number of expensive cars in the background the Junglist playa tells us how "she gotta have fine boo-tay", "bring her own bling bling" and "not done no guys no many times before". This overblown jingle sets the cause of feminism back at least fifty years and is all the better for it.
Baby, Ooh. Love Me, Baby, Baby. Baby - Tina Whelks
Fresh from reality show Exmouth Indoor Market where her sweet-selling bonhomie and running flirtation with the fishmonger captured the imagination of a nation, Miss Whelks arrives in our record shops extravagantly buffed and with her once-wispy singing voice coached into that of a bellowingly ersatz soul singer. "My bay-bee is a mountain," Tina hollers. "With summits and snow, oh-eeh-oh ooh-ooh-ooh oh-oh." With this abomination she's well on the way to becoming South Devon's answer to Celine Dion, although we can only hope Tina doesn't directly contribute to as many grim suicides as her mentor. Whelks is apparently in the running to represent Y-N-O-Mi at next year's Eurovision and is heavily tipped to be the first British entrant to register a negative score.
Monkeys Make Good Husbands - Bummilingus Chapman
Finally we apprehensively approach this trio of St Albans pale whiteboys who imitate the kings of gangsta rap
in a manner all civilised people wish went out with Vanilla Ice. Even guest appearances from Chris Morris and
The Rebel MC can't save this dated piece of coyote vomit. Interestingly 'turntablist' DJ Jizzy Kelvin was
originally the main rapper in B.C. but was forced to retire after placing a lit firework inside his mouth in an
attempt to ape the unique flow of bad bwoys with bulletholes in their heads like 50 Cent and Mark Morrison. The stunt went horribly wrong and Kelvin ended up taking his jaw off. He now performs without a mouth, squatting behind the decks to emit the occasional whimper between second-rate scratching interludes. Tragic in a dull way and a gobless star in waiting, unfortunately for us.
Contact Al Likilla at the Home Defence UK email address for advice on how to submit your record for review. Please note, we draw the line at Electroclash.