Up, by Right Said Fred
Suggested by Robb Sutherland
I did not enjoy this.
However, before we get into it, I have to mention something.
According to Wikipedia, the piano on Up is played by none other than: Phil “Philthy Animal” Taylor. The legendary drummer from Motorhead.
Let that sink in for a moment…
On a Right Said Fred album.
By the drummer from Motorhead.
I’ve yet to find any corroborating evidence for such a salacious claim, through my rudimentary Google noodlings. It may just be a ripping wheeze from a trollish internet wag. If you can find proof either way, do let me know.
So! Let’s get back to the review.
If you claim you’ve never danced to I’m Too Sexy, then you are lying.
For a time, it was everywhere. Even since, it’s omnipresent. It’s at every wedding disco, in every cheesy dance club at closing time, at every ironic retro Uni bash, on every Big Camp Megamix.
I don’t care if you’re not a dancer. You’ll have bopped along in your chair near the dancefloor, cradling your Bacardi Breezer as the less inhibited in your party slipped and slid, waving their arms in the air like they just didn’t care. It may have been a bop that was accompanied by an ironic roll of the eyes, but it was a bop nonetheless.
The song is a bonefide, iconic, timeless classic. It’s a simple dance refrain that’s transcended mere music. It’s like Happy Birthday, or Three Blind Mice, or Vindaloo by Fat Les. It’s more than a song, it’s a way of life. It doesn’t matter one jot whether I, or anyone else, actually likes it.
Yes, I’m Too Sexy is my standout track. Was that in doubt? It is Borg. We are Assimilated.
Can you name any other Right Said Fred track? I’ll bet you can name one, maaaybe two like me. Can you name a fourth? Liar.
Both Deeply Dippy and Don’t Talk Just Kiss are light, melodic dance-pop. They are primped and pomped by sounding brasses and bouncing basslines. They are overborne by the same monotone and uninspired Fairbrass vocals. Let’s face it, the man can’t belt out a tune. To paraphrase Buzz Lightyear, it’s not singing… it’d talking with style.
There are other songs on the album. Do they matter? No. It’s more of the same, pleasant enough as an amuse bouche but certainly not a main course. If I had to describe a Right Said Fred song as a foodstuff, it’d be ‘profiterole’.
This album gets 3/10, and I now rank myself amongst the handful of people that have heard FOUR Right Said Fred songs. Up is lightweight, inoffensive nonsense, eclipsed by the 800-pound shirtless gorilla in the room that, as the saying goes, is far too sexy for this album.