The Streets are empty

Music is deeply personal and very subjective. What is one man's pleasure is another's poison. I happen to love certain bands which I have in common with some of my friends whilst there are others that we are polar opposites on.

No two people share exactly the same list of favourite bands, the same order of preference and agree wholeheartedly on all things musical.

There are certain bands that fall way outside of any genre I would enjoy listening to which I can appreciate from afar for their musicianship and dedication to their art. 'Take That' are a good example of this. I would never dream of buying any of their music, nor watching them live, but I do appreciate that within the confines of the pop world they are extremely talented and have elevated themselves above the rest of their peers with their infectiously catchy tunes and energetic live performances.

So I can appreciate that whilst something may not be my cup of tea, there is still a lot of talent on show and I can applaud and respect this.

What I do struggle with is the lyrical content of Mike Skinner's music. The 'Mockney' Brummie's lyrics just astound me in their banality and stupidity.

His lyrics remind me of a combination of playground skipping rope chants, juvenile Peckham council estate slang and homeless people drunk on Thunderbirds who either cannot get their words out in the right order or simply miss out words for ease of delivery.

Apparently he is an urban poet, bestowing the word of the street on us all and providing rife political commentary on all things English. I think he is a chav with a microphone. A fool with his own soapbox to stand on, incessantly preaching the gospel of Skinner to all ASBO's and delinquents, eager for some sign of empowerment to affirm they are not actually in the minority and a social ill but the future of mankind.

His lyrics have a childish simplicity to them and instead of writing flowing and coherent lyrics, he conveniently squashes seemingly unconnected sets of words and thoughts into a verse or chorus and then adds nonsensical phrases such as 'yes yes oh yay' to pad out lines and add a convenient rhyme.

The following is an excerpt from his song 'Fit But You Know it'.

See I reckon you're about an 8 or a 9,
Maybe even 9 and a half in four beers time.
That blue top shop top you've got on IS nice,
Bit too much fake tan though - but yeah you score high.

So when i looked at you standing there with your hoard,
I was waiting in the queue looking at the board
Wondering whether to have a Burger or chips
Or what the shrapnel in my back pocket could afford
When i noticed out the corner of my eye
Looking toward my direction
Your eyes locked onto my course
I couldnt concentrate on what i wanted to order,
Which cost me my place in the queue i waited for YEAH

I'm not sure what you think but this sounds like the musings of a 12 year old who has just got chucked off the top deck of the number 6 bus for sticking chewing gum on the seats.

This is not social commentary. This is not hard to do and worse still, this means nothing. A good set of lyrics will stand up to scrutiny without the music...poetry if you like. If you have never heard this song before and were presented with these lyrics would they mean anything? Would you guess a grown man had written them? I wouldn't. Annoyingly some of his music is quite catchy and does draw me in - right up until the point where I start listening to the words and then I lose interest.

To be fair though, it is easy to criticise something without offering an alternative or better solution. So with this in mind, I have decided to have a go at writing my own lyrics in the style of The Streets to make sure that I am not being unduly unfair and that it is actually harder than it looks

Here goes:

I is sitting on my chair in the dole office queue
Wondering might I should be cracking on to you
My mates is not 'appy coz my Reebok's are dirty
But oh yeah yeah, you seem for real flirty

Catching your eye I offer you some shandy
You like a good drink, bish bosh very handy
I say 'fancy a stroll back to mine in a minute
You leave with my can yeah yeah I don't get it

We bomb out the dole and head for the chippy
My my yeah yeah those lads is well lippy
We bog them out good style they head for the bus station
Yeah yeah double good yeah yeah celebration

Just as I thought. Easy. A real social poet is Alex Turner. Listen to any of his tracks and you will hear depth and resonance in all of his lyrics. At a tenderly young age he seems to have an intuitive understanding of relationships and people which allow him to write bittersweet lyrics which actually force you to listen to the stories he is telling.

Try writing your own Mike Skinner lyrics and then have a go at aping Alex Turner. See which one is easier.