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Thursday 21 February 2013

Timebomb Is Officially Forgiven - Kylie Slays Once Again!


I've been writing this blog since 2006. And even if you've only dropped by a couple of times over the last 8 years - two things should be clear by now. I really like Beyoncé and Kylie Minogue. The former has been getting a lot of coverage lately but I've been suffering from major fan fatigue with the Australian pop deity. Aphrodite was pleasant enough but the single choices were absolutely repellant and then she wasted everyone's time with that heinous Abbey Road Sessions bullshit and released the worst single of her glorious 25 year career with "Timebomb". I just needed a break.

But then a funny thing happened. I hired Holy Motors on a whim a couple of weeks ago and watched in awe as Kylie turned in her best screen performance since playing a junkie whore in Sample People. Her star turn was absolutely compelling and I sat through the damn movie another three times trying to work out what the fuck was going on. I still have no idea but it's highly recommended! Next came the Roc Nation deal and news that she is hooking up with the likes of Fernando Garibay on her new album - a fantastic development after slumming it with British hacks for far too long. And then I stumbled across "Whistle".

I feel like I've fallen into a parallel universe where time stood still and I'm stuck in 1998. You know the era when Kylie revolutionised pop by singing about fonts with Towa Tei. Only instead of exploring Japanese pop decades before it became trendy, Bey's new BFF is getting down with Icelandic folktronica outfit Múm on a contribution to the Jack and Diane soundtrack - a film, if I'm not mistaken, about lesbian werewolves. What in the name of Dannii's sold-out K-mart range is going on? And why is it so fucking amazing?

"Whistle" is obviously not single material - it begins with the line "I bleed like a pig" - but it is absolutely gorgeous. Imagine if Enya smoked peyote and then tried to cover Bjork for some idea of the demented, ambient magic that unwinds over the next six, languid minutes of aural perfection. This is so different and so beautiful. Just what I needed to get interested in Kylie again before she returns with a pitch-perfect pop album later this year and sets fire to Madonna's dusty wig once and for all. I love this.

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