There was a time when a female with a lethargic vocal delivery was quite sexy, but in these post-Winehouse days, it just tends to stop being sexy and start sounding as if the singer is pissed, or out of their heads on scag. Sia’s vocal starts off as lethargic, but then moves on to a mighty slur, like an octogenarian sitting by himself, mortal drunk, musing about his days of sex and hedonism through the haze of ten pints of Scotch. The Sex And The City generation of females may well take time out from buying shoes and handbags to weep salty puddles to this song, as it blares out from their status symbol stereos and they look back upon the greatest love that they lost. It’s that type of song, you know? The type that closes a romantic comedy starring the latest teenage star destined to be photographed knickerless whilst leaving a Limo. The type of song that 18-19 year old girls have on their MySpace profile. The type who have the obligatory profile picture of the pouting mirror shot, of one hand on the side, and the other hand desperately clutching the mobile phone which encapsulates the desperation of the reflection. On further inspection she’ll have wrote things on her profile like “life’s a journey, not a destination” and her friends will have posted messages saying “dnt wory bout him, he a dick, ya can do beta than him” and “u deserv beta babie girl” as she moves off from the first of many points in her life when her heart will be broken. It’s one of them, it may well have a lot of truth, honesty and passion, but when you get to such a point in your life when all you have left is bitterness and cynicism, it tends not to cut the mustard. Instead, it leaves you agitated and exasperated. By now we’ve all had our fair share of female fronted piano ballads giving way to strings, big emotional key changes and climaxes, the formula is a little tired now and love songs just aren’t my bag.
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