This Time 20 Years Ago!… The Hottest Hits Of July-ish 2004!!

The Hottest Hit On The Planet:

Enya lives in a castle.

Remember that time Big Boi was interviewed about how much he loved Kate Bush, and he was all like,

Apparently Kate owns multiple properties, including a manor on a cliff that’s at risk of falling into the sea. But, as far as I can tell, Kate Bush does not own a single castle.

Enya, however, lives in a castle.

I guess it’s not quite a castle, not a real one anyway, since it was built in 1840, and castles were well and truly out of date by then, but it has turrets and a secret tunnel and that’s good enough for me. She bought it in 1997. Bono, naturally, is one of her neighbors.

This begs a number of questions. Such as: how much money do you need to buy a six-bedroom castle? And did Enya earn that money from her biggest hit as a lead artist, 1988’s “Orinoco Flow”? (it’s a 10)

Or did Enya earn her castle-sized royalty cheque from another, far more obscure song? A song she had released a couple of years earlier. A song which consists of little more than Enya humming along to a New-Agey chilled out orchestra. A song that is barely a song. A song called “Boadicea.”

“Boadicea” probably would have remained unknown to all but fans of Enya deep cuts, if not for The Fugees, who sampled the tune for their 1996 hit “Ready Or Not,” featuring Lauryn Hill being Nina Simone and defecating on your microphone (it’s a 10).

After listening to the song however, and quite liking it, and after asking around to satisfy herself that The Fugees weren’t gangsta rap – and that they had “a positive message” – Enya decided to settle out of court for $3 million.

It appears that if they had been gangsta rap Enya would have taken them on! Imagine for a second, if it had been the Wu-Tang Clan! Imagine if Enya disrespected the Wu!

$3 million is probably enough to put a deposit down on a 6-bedroom castle, don’t you think?

But the story of “Boadicea” didn’t end there. Just last year, Metro Boomin’, with a bit of help from The Weeknd and an uncharacteristically unsweary 21 Savage (*twenty-one*) took a tune called “Creepin’” to very near the top of the charts (it’s a 7:)

Now, this wasn’t the first time that “Creepin’” had been taken to very near the top of the charts. It had happened before. It happened in 2004. But that time “Creepin’” had been called something very different. Back in 2004 it had been called something far less creepy.

Back in 2004, “Creepin’” had been called “I Don’t Wanna Know.” Back in 2004, “Creepin’” had been sung by Mario Winans in the role of The Weeknd guy, whilst Diddy played the 21 Savage character.

Although the two tracks possess different song titles, they are very much the same song. The sample is the same.

The beat is, pretty much, the same. Naturally the words and melody – outside of the rap part – are the same. If you were only half listening, you could very easily mistake one for the other.

But the two tracks feel different. The Metrooooo version is creepier, as you might expect when you match the bleakest, most nihilistic major R&B singer of the current generation, with the bleakest, most nihilistic major rapper of the same.

Compared to The Weeknd, Mario Winans comes across like Mario. That would be teenage R&B heartthrob Mario, of “Let Me Love You” fame, a song which would become a huge smash a couple of years later.

Just to be crystal clear, Mario and Mario Winans are different people.

Or, if you are confused, feel comforted by the fact that you are not the first to have made that mistake.

Mario Winans is a member of the Winans family, a family that is for Gospel music what the Jacksons are for pop.

So presumedly, young Mario had quite a wholesome upbringing. So what did his family make of it when he started producing R. Kelly albums in the 90s, followed by a stint producing for Diddy? What did Mario make of it when he heard about what Diddy has been up to lately? His latest sex-trafficking shenanigans. He probably shook his head and muttered: “just can’t believe this, man.”

That Mario came from such a wholesome household makes sense. Maybe this is why, compared to “Creepin’”, “I Don’t Wanna Know” sounds like something from a more innocent time.

“I Don’t Wanna Know” sounds like something from a more innocent time even though it features Diddy on the track; a pitifully wounded Diddy upset that you cheated on him even though he gave you extra cheese.

Now, I know – or at least I am pretty sure – that “cheese”, in this instance, means money. But I like the idea that maybe Diddy has a side hustle as the proprietor of a pizza restaurant or something. A quick Google of “diddy pizza” did produce this headline:

…so who the hell knows? I didn’t click on it. It felt like a rabbit hole I simply did not want to go down. You do not want to go down a Diddy shaped rabbit hole…

In addition to the cheese thing, Diddy also says “I know when you in the house or when you cruisin’” which is not something you want to hear from someone accused of rape, sex trafficking…

And yet, Diddy still sounds more innocent than 21 Savage, whose biggest alleged crime appears to be pretending to come from Atlanta, when actually, he’s from London.

I don’t know how much Enya made from “I Don’t Wanna Know,” but the sample was so central to the song’s whole vibe that Diddy is said to have given her 60% of the royalties, plus put her name on the CD cover as a featured artist.

Maybe one in Bissau or Palau, in the shade of Avalon. Or Fiji. Or Tyree. Or the Isles of Ebony.

Enya would probably prefer not to have her name on a record with Diddy, but we’ll never know for sure. She just lives up there in her fake-castle, all by herself, rarely engaging with the modern world. Her latest tweet was a tribute to Sinead O’Connor, in Irish. Sometimes she tweets a Happy St Patrick’s Day message.

Perhaps they discuss the odd fact that a recording of her humming lives on as an endlessly renewable source of spookiness, when gangsta-rap-beat makers are in need of a particularly chilling beat. Or perhaps she just spends her days, sailing away, sailing away, sailing away…

“I Don’t Wanna Know” is a 6.

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Meanwhile, in iPod Land:

Jet came from Melbourne, a city that likes to refer to itself as ‘The Rock’n’Roll Capital Of Australia.’ Sometimes, when Melbourne gets especially excited, it mentions that, in 2018, it was named the Live Music Capital Of The World!

Melbourne is the kind of city that would, also in 2004, name one of its laneways – and Melbourne is also strangely proud of its laneways – AC/DC Lane…. yes, really. There was a lot of controversy at the time over whether it was permissible to include a lightning bolt in a street name, or even a forward slash.

A couple of years later they would name one after Chrissy Amphlett from The Divinyls. In summary then, Jet came from the ultimate rock’n’roll city.

Jet also had the ultimate garage rock revival look – hair, lots of hair, shaggy hair, hair on the sides of their face in the form of great big shaggy sideburns – the ultimate rock influences – Iggy Pop obviously – and the ultimate rock ideology – that if it wasn’t rock, it was rubbish.

Speaking of Iggy Pop, the boys from Jet bristle at the suggestion that they ripped off “Lust For Life.” They point out that they discussed the matter with the Igster himself, who agreed that it sounded more like “You Can’t Hurry Love,” the song that Iggy was ripping off in the first place.

“To be honest with you, that kind of annoyed me a lot”, said Chris Cester, drummer, and also one of the brothers. Why did it annoy Chris?

“Because I always thought it (claiming that they’d ripped off “Lust For Life” when they’d actually ripped off “You Can’t Hurry Love”) was really lazy.”

The boys from Jet are fine with you thinking that they are ripping off other people’s songs, they just get pissed if you don’t guess the right one.

To be fair to Jet, it was suddenly so much easier for fans to guess the right song. Because – through the power of Napster, Limewire and Kazaa – they had access to the entire history of music.

But suddenly, instead of saving up your pocket money to buy a handful of albums a year, you could listen to everything without leaving home!

And then, in 2001, Steve Jobs introduced the world to a device which could hold those songs.

Then 5,000 songs. Then 10,000 songs. And you could carry these songs – the entire history of pop music potentially – around with you all day long, in your handbag or backpack!  The device was called the iPod, and it was like living in the future!!!!

At this point however not everybody owned an iPod. Only about 4 million were sold in 2004. That probably still sounds like a shitload, but the next year, in 2005, sales surged to 20 million! That was the year that iPods became such a big deal that professional bandwagon-jumpers U2 jumped onto the bandwagon with their own official U2 iPod! And still sales surged, finally reaching just shy of 55 million in 2008.

At least part of that growth was due to advertising. Ads that were simple. Clean. Classically designed. Like an Apple product.

Also, because now it was also compatible with Windows.

“Are You Gonna Be My Girl” wasn’t the first iPod jingle. That honour goes to Propellerhead’s Richard Nixon sampling Big-Beat classic “Take California”, and an ad that clearly demonstrated how the product would be used. Judging by the pile of blank CDs sitting next to his Mac, this dude did not pay for a single one of his bangers. He simply ripped them off the Internet.

Kudos for the Gus Gus and Ladytron selections though. This guy had taste!

Jet wasn’t the only act in the first wave of iPod ads, but they may have been the only ones to get a hit out of it. The other tunes were either a couple of years old – “Rock Star” by N*E*R*D (it’s a 7) – or had already peaked months earlier – “Hey Mama” by Black Eyed Peas (another 7) – and so consequently did not fly up the charts as a result.

And the hits kept on coming. According to this handy compilation of every iPod advertisement, in addition to the ones you probably remember…

• U2 doing “Vertigo” (it’s a 7)
• Feist’s “1,2,3,4” (it’s a 9) – introducing the iPod nano with video
• Coldplay’s “Viva La Vida” (it’s an 8)

…there are some that may have passed you by. Do you remember the Bob Dylan one? The Paul McCartney one?  My estimation of both of these great men has now been greatly diminished.

As for Jet, well, their next album – Shine On – would infamously get a 0.0 review from Pitchfork, “written” by “Ray Suzuki”, a person who didn’t even exist!!!

But that’s another story.

Why did Shine On receive a 0.0 rating? Who knows?

The 00s were that kind of decade.

That review may be the most famous album review of all time. It was instantly shared via emails and MySpace messages and whatever other primitive forms of communication we possessed at the time, which is not something that regularly occurs with album reviews. It was as a result of that that I started reading Pitchfork. Which led me to start reading Stereogum. Which led me here.

So it all worked out fine, I guess.

I wasn’t the only one to be introduced to Pitchfork in this way. The “monkey drinking its own piss Jet review” may be one of the defining moments of my generation. Pitchfork was already plenty popular, but that review sent it into the blogsphere stratosphere.

But you could also argue that they were indirectly responsible for both the decade’s biggest gamechanger in music consumption– the iPod, duh – and the biggest gamechanger in music criticism! That’s quite a legacy to have!

Fun song, though. “Are You Gonna Be My Girl” is a 7.

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Meanwhile, In Hip-Hop But Not Really Land:

So Outkast had released two pretty much solo albums and stuck them together to make one big Outkast double album.

Why did nobody think of this before? Could this have saved The Beatles? – because, in the words of Big Boi on his eargasm “The Way You Move”, Andre 3000 “went to do a little actin’” (it’s a 9)

By “actin’, ” Big Boi seems to mean letting Andre 3000 be Andre 3000. Encouraging Andre 3000 – or, as we all agreed to refer to him last time, Nookie Blossumgang III – to follow his mystical muse wherever it went, no matter how weird and wonderful that place might be.

Or, how incomprehensible for that matter.

Thus we ended up with an album: – The Love Below – that was simultaneously:

• Brilliant (“Hey Ya”)
• Pretentious (a drum’n’bass version of John Coltrane’s version of “My Favourite Things”)
• And just plain goofy (that Valentine’s Day jam referencing leprechauns and groundhogs and the Easter Bunny and all this talk about Santa Claus…)

Thus, we ended up with an album of undeniable twerk-friendly quirkiness.

Then, there’s “Roses.” A song so goofy that a great many people refer to it as “The Poo-Poo Song”, and may actually believe that’s its name. They refer to it as “The Poo-Poo Song” even though Andre, sorry Nookie Blossumgang III, is actually saying “Boo-Boo.”

“Roses” is also a song so hooky – what with the jazzy piano intro! the soulful organ!! the sheer glee with which Nookie Blossumgang III sings every single line, most notably “CAROLIIIIIINE!!!!!!” – that it’s easy to miss the fact that “Roses” is criminally cruel to Carolines.

Nookie Blossumgang III and Big Boi…

… have spent their entire high school careers – again, I’m basing this entirely on the video – trying to get with Caroliiiiiine aka “Biggest Flirt.”

Their reaction to this rejection? Nookie Blossumgang III’s response is to put on this whole school production – and what a production it is, complete with Paula Abdul choreographing the thing! – simply to inform Caroliiiiine, and the entire high school, that she is a bitch.

Nookie Blossumgang III fantasizes about Caroliiiiine “try to put on her makeup in the mirror, and crash, crash, craaaaaaash into a ditch”, singing with such delightful glee that I really don’t think adding “just playin’’ immediately after really makes it okay. Sayin’ “just playin’’ is not a get-out-of-jail-free card! And anyway, what sort of misogynist incel shit is all of this?

Then Big Boi, aka Hot Tub Tony, pops in to try his luck, informing the poor girl that his AIDS test is flawless, and that he wants to see her support bra not support her, neither of which seems likely to float Caroliiiiine’s boat, and indeed, judging from the video, don’t.

By the time Big Boi pops in at the end again to mutter:

“Bitch (crazy bitch)
Stupid ass bitch (crazy bitch)
Ol’ punk ass bitch (crazy bitch)
Ol’ dumbass bitch (crazy bitch)
A bitch’s bitch (crazy (bitch)
Just a bitch (crazy bitch)”

I think the point has well and truly been made. Caroliiiiine is a bitch. Got it.

Somebody at least seems to have realized just how problematic this approach is when time came to make the video, deciding to be far more sympathetic to her plight.

Caroliiiiine seems to be about the only one acting as though she has a lick of sense, reacting in the only way a self-respecting Caroliiiiine ought. By which I mean watching Nookie’s little song and dance show with a mixture of boredom and derision, before being finally going off with Katt Williams aka “the cat and his bread”, quite possibly the only man in America more of a dandy than Nookie Blossumgang III himself. “Take one final look, at the past…” he tells her “and we’re out.” And thus Caroliiiiine was spared further slut-shaming from our two heroes.

Despite all of this, despite all the goofiness, despite the gleeful character assassination, or maybe because of it, misogyny has never been so much fun, and “Roses” is an 8.

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Meanwhile, in Rock Anthem Land:

I know.

You are probably sick of reading about “Mr. Brightside” and its 20th anniversary. And also its parent album Hot Fuss and its 20th anniversary.

But are you sick of the song itself yet? If you are, then I don’t blame you. It’s not impossible that not a single day has gone by in the last 20 years that you haven’t heard “Mr Brightside” being played in some capacity, whether you wanted to hear it or not. Particularly if you live in the UK, where it has recently been officially deemed the most popular song never to have reached Number One.

If, however, you are not yet sick of “Mr. Brightside,” then I also do not blame you. For “Mr. Brightside” is one of the most exciting songs of all time! It’s a rush! A blast! It makes people go “whoop”! Whoever knew that paranoia and jealousy could be such fun?

Brandon Flowers is coming out of his cage, and  {* straightens his jacket for effect *} he’s feeling “JUST FINE!”, instantly providing us with both the definitive example of a man saying that he’s fine when he’s really not – women tend to do the “I’m FINE!!!” thing so much better…

Brandon Flowers grew up, as he describes it, as “a Mormon in Las Vegas,” dreaming his teenage dreams of glamorous indie rock’n’roll stardom, something that never really existed until Brandon invented it. Indie rock is a lot of things, but “glamorous” has never really been one of them.

Whilst listening to Hot Fuss deep cut “Glamorous Indie Rock’n’Roll,” it’s difficult to avoid the conclusion that Brandon Flowers didn’t really have a solid understanding of indie rock’n’roll culture. For one thing, nobody calls it “indie rock’n’roll.”

At least Brandon seems to have understood that social and sexual insecurity has always existed at the very heart of indie dancefloor bangers, a subculture that somehow turned the mumbling of “why is the bedroom so cold? You’ve turned away on your side” into one of its ultimate “whoop” inspiring party starters.

With “Mr. Brightside,” Brandon arguably did one better. Taking these social and sexual insecurities and using them to fuel the ultimate indie rock’n’roll Las Vegas floorshow! Creating one big progressively escalating chorus of paranoia.

Paranoia that, so it turns out, was well-founded. For “Mr. Brightside” is based, at least partially, on fact.

Brandon was asleep. At home. Now the line, “now I’m falling asleep, and she’s calling a cab” makes it sound as though Brandon’s passing out in the club – no judgement from me, we’ve all been there – but no, he was tucked in bed at home, when he got a feeling, an inkling really, that his girlfriend was cheating on him. So he went to their favorite pub, and there she was, having a date with someone who wasn’t Brandon.

It was the and a bottomless well of meme-able material. Apparently it’s haunted by friendly ghosts. Maybe it was those ghosts who tipped Brandon off.

So it wasn’t all in Brandon’s head after all. She was almost certainly, touching his… um… chest?

“Mr. Brightside” describes, in masochistic detail, the experience of watching your crush go off with someone else, trying to convince yourself of the unconvinceable – “it was only a kiss… IT WAS ONLY A KISS!!!” – watching them share a smoke… Brandon just can’t look. It’s KILLING HIM!!!

Brandon’s going to be okay. He can buy himself flowers. And besides, heartbreak just gives you something to write a hit song about.

The video to “Mr. Brightside” is, conceptually, not that different from Outkast’s “Roses.” There’s unrequited love. There’s Jealousy. It’s set in some poorly defined historical era (Is it the Belle Epoque? The Ancien Regime?). There’s an impossibly gorgeous girl.

The gorgeous girl in question was failed Polish ballerina (she apparently had “flexibility limitations”), Izabella Miko. Who describes herself on LinkedIn as a professional “Happiness Enthusiast.” Izabella’s other big moment was in Coyote Ugly, but this is probably her most famous role.

If there is one piece of trivia that you need to know about The Killers, it’s that they got their name from the fictional band in the video for New Order’s “Crystal” (it’s a 9). Continuing with this tradition, they decided to perform as their own fictional band in “Mr. Brightside,” The Genius Sex Poets. Whatever historical era the video for “Mr. Brightside” is supposed to be set in, I can’t imagine how it could possibly co-exist with a band called The Genius Sex Poets.

So of course, there is now a band called The Genius Sex Poets. Judging by their Spotify streams – or lack thereof– their choice of name has not helped them much. Probably because they sound nothing like The Killers and everything like a garage rock version of Jefferson Airplane. They clearly need as much help as they can get on the publicity front, so here they are:

All of which explains why “Mr. Brightside” is brilliant. All of which explains why “Mr. Brightside” burnt up indie dancefloors. Why it burnt up karaoke stages. Why it’s played constantly at parties.

There is a good chance that you have been in a “Mr. Brightside” situation at a party – feeling torn-up inside whilst watching your crush go off with Julia Roberts’ brother – at the very moment that “Mr. Brightside” was playing. Maybe it made you feel better. Maybe it made you feel that you weren’t alone. Maybe it was strangely comforting to realize that Brandon Flowers understood your pain.

Do you people not listen to the lyrics?!?!?

“Mr. Brightside” is a 10!

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Meanwhile, in Europe Land:

O-Zone are the most famous boy-band ever to come out of Moldova.

O-Zone are the biggest hit makers – of any genre – to ever come out of Moldova.

Which – since I can see you looking quizzically at the screen – is a slither of land wedged between Romania and Ukraine. Moldova would probably be the most obscure country in Eastern Europe, if not for Transnistria:

O-Zone yodeled – or whatever it was supposed to be, is it traditional Moldovan singing? – “Ma-ia-hii, ma-ia-huu” etc whilst dancing on an airplane wing. And they did this WHILST IT WAS FLYING!!! (probably not actually)

And yet still not a single American had heard of it until some guy called Gary on the Internet made “Numa Numa.”

Or, if that somehow passed them by, until T.I. and Rihanna sampled it for “Live Your Life.”

Whilst the “Ma-ia-hii, ma-ia-huu” bits are the most ridiculous moments of “Dragostea Din Tei” – which is Romanian for, of all thing, ‘Love From The Linden Tree’ –  the rest of the tune doesn’t exactly let up either. I mean, lyrically, it’s genius. Here’s the English translation of the first verse:

“Hello, hello
It’s me, an outlaw
And please, my love
Receive happiness”

This is followed by:

“Hello, hello
It’s me, Picasso
I gave you a “beep” and I’m strong
But you must know I’m asking nothing”

This is very clearly a work of staggering genius.

“Ma-ia-hii, ma-ia-huu” however, just means “ma-ia-hii, ma-ia-huu.”

“Dragostea Din Tei” is a 6.

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